The Past

I Adore You, But Give Me Park Avenue

Oh dear,my ignorance for writing was increasing steadily as days went forward. Very often I opened the page but left it untouched. February almost end in another day while I thought I just had my first post yesterday. Again, my range of thoughts has expand until it reached above the boundaries. One day I was thinking about letting go, how hard getting through the process not having what I usually had or how people could get so easily disappear in a blink of an eye. And the other day I was thinking about having an average score in school without seeing the importance getting somewhere upper. This life isn't about getting the best score in class, right? Then what's this all about?
Then another day, my teacher talked about the teenagers relationship nowadays. She doesn't do dating, she would rather had a guy came by the door step and ask for hand of marriage. that was odd but making sense in one-another perspective. True though, from what I observe, people got too busy maintaining this relationship what-so-ever and started to vanished from the radar. Other day, I spent hours and more hours with the strangely addictive guitar in my room, on my bed. Even I suck, still I felt well playing those innocent chords and created two pointless songs.
Due to the excessive thoughts, I already collapse before I started typing. Blame me, blame the hormones for being too sensitive. Blame the age for proving the statistics having the highest labile emotions. There you go and couldn't stop blaming something.

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz

Believe Me, My Glass Is Empty

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what I need is a little bit of stimulation. by reading someone else's blog that appropriate for me giving a certain force which moves my fingers and started to type. I admit my writing has not been a perceptible. But believe me nobody gives a fcuk. This just a blog.
Once I heard from somewhere, when a person telling his or her best friend about thrilling news, in any form, her best friend listened but she never actually feeling anxious like the person who has the news. They just basically interact. People just acting nice although the excitement doesn't exist.
"I'm happy for you!"
the accurateness was questioned. maybe half true.
it nudge me.
individualism or selfishness was something that can't be avoided. Same thing goes the same on blog, I've been really curious are there some eyes with a constructed brain would care to read and actually interest on what I have been posting here?
They say on this age being critical is important but honestly I don't think it's about aging. It's about the environment that build your personality.
A piece by : Fiya Muiz

I've Been Sleeping With The Lights On

The present tense that I am living currently has offended me with a massive question mark. Not intended for being impulsive but things happened outside my normal senses. The way I appraised things often went on different track.
I'd like to keep this blog anonymous.
Once I asked someone, whom I trust instantly in a matter of week, that it was fine to keep something under the radar without being brutally frank in a way. As I listened, I keep it for myself. Even this was about him. Sometimes he knew what's on my mind when actually I just had the thought of it. Like he knew first before me. Maybe it was just a lucky guesses. Maybe.
Have you ever met someone that could convinced you by a simple sentences?
I've met one. Not literally met. but it take that as the simple form.
I am amazed my self. Maybe it's too soon to write a post about him. But why should I care? Recently I lost my sense of caring. Ignorance starting to be a real bliss for me. And I could not blame age, technically.
He just doesn't know I wrote an English one page long essay writing about him. With last sentence "and he was just the right and best person to have." (period) Maybe it was the mood who wrapped me too tight so I could end up writing pleasant words, maybe his role was nothing much than a cameo in my life, he was the good distraction for my thoughts. I have a lot of maybe's here. And nothing definite.
He doesn't know how difficult I survived without talking to him in one day. and the next two tortured me more than ever. the process was hard but I learned slowly by not having the endless conversation that we usually had. Then he questioned my silentness these past times. I wish I could have the answer. I wish. and I lied. I answered like I have one.
He doesn't know his sentence sometimes grows a wings on me.
He doesn't know when I text him it means I needed him too much but he left me without replies.
He just doesn't know a thing in my head right now.

you know even grown ups tired acting like everything's okay. acting like being oh so mature also tiring, I need to catch my breath for a while

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz

Jean Louise and Dill

I never knew that it would be a sin to kill a mockingbird. Well guess I've never seen one in my life. I did not grow up outdoor. Living in the city has minimized my knowledge for nature life. I even can't stand to be a vegetarian more than 5 hours. Back to the verse line I wrote about a mockingbird, I have finished reading a book called "To Kill A Mockingbird". The title may sounds familiar to people who fancied literature. I heard this book was a master piece back then. Oh, and the movie won Academy Award too.
At first I could not really get my mind inside the book, due to lack of attention because someone
uninterruptedly took it, but as it starts in to the middle and getting my reading time back, it was very cool. Like literally cool. Mrs. Lee's choose to used unusual words which making me even more challenged to read deeply.
The basic story was there were two children growing up in a suburban neighborhood with such a heterogeneity environment. Without their mom, they lived rely on their lawyer father, Atticus. Then goes the rhyme of the story about spooky house and racism.
I, very, admire Atticus for my self. Through the character I could see how the fine judgmental about.
Go get yourself reading for details!

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz


Notes that opened wide in front of my fingertips irritate me even more than my incoherent mood.
I have dealt with the difficulties for find the timing for writing a post. Two days ago my mood went unambiguously pleasant, but today I am struggling most of the time with the undefined demeanor. I'd rather staying at home doing nothing. Believing maturity would grown out of me and easily taken control my emotion by minutes but I am, myself, still being skeptical. One vivid progress was, I am able to write this post even though I have fought for it for the entire hours exhaust my mind to obtain a decent writing. PMS killed my hype right away when my alarm rang. Even before sun shine creeping inside my room through the opened curtain. I tried not to use PMS as a reason, but seemingly it was just the right object to blame. Or maybe the scent (still) I couldn't get rid of. Oh dear beloved, I could swear it was the best scent I have ever smelled (from a person) in my entire seventeen years old life.
And... I made my first sunny side up egg this afternoon. I am very proud of it. I conquer my fear for light up the stove due to the fact it runs with fire.

I'm out.
A piece by : Fiya Muiz

Let Me Sing You A Waltz

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February has finally arrived after thirty one days of January. I have been in and out circle of frustration, nothing significant though. The symptoms were just around lost what about to write, lost what to think and lost what to feel. From post days before I have mentioned the urge of feeling something too much, well I tried to comprehend and giving my best shot on it, I’m cool.
The feeling I had was different than I was thirteen years old, but the nausea was too real, involving the hurt in tormented pain. But I’m finding my salvation somehow, I found one. It needs more than the whole Christmas lighting decorated all over, where friends were there obtained various kinds of ideas.
Every person in my life must have taught me something, and few of them linger and influenced me.
There was this one person I knew just now, he taught me to see things deeper. He concluded himself as complicated and fucked up minded, but I did not meet a lot people like him around in my life, my world, which some way makes me sees him more. His questions were honest, straight forward yet sarcastic. From one question, I could make another questions which leads to the other questions. A lot statement has been plotted, a lot of argue were imploded.
I, or we, can’t keep someone for our own. Once the tie began to lose, I’m missing the feeling of the suffocations that has been around for weeks. It was not literally meaning though, somewhere inside it means something. The process to get somewhere would never ever be easy,
but I know where to go.
One or two bells rings enough, I’m starting to realize where I could find my safest haven and a remedy.
By here, my mouth keeping things sealed. I’m not letting the person know how much the subjection he has made, maybe soon but not now. Because misinterpretations do happen, just like shit and also things could have get carried away. You know what a situations could make when the time was so perfect and on. So, keeping feet on the ground is VERY crucial. After all, I was just talking about someone changes things, nothing more or less.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz