June 30, 2013

Sweet Evil in the Cup

From the alarm clock to a traffic jam on your way to work or you-know-where, there are many pretty morbid experiences in the morning. Embodying these morning moods, here's an idea for you to literally throw in some skulls into your morning coffee. Yep, you can make that coffee 100% sinister by adding these amazing skull and cross bones sugar cubes to your cup. These skulls are created by the brilliantly creative mind and fingers of designer Snow Violent.

Can you imagine looking down into your coffee and having the skull staring back at you? You watch as the bones float and bob in your cup slowly dissolving in the murky darkness of your cup. Now that's the way to start the day. Lol. But make sure your guests know your sense of humor before you sweeten their coffee with these. :p

June 29, 2013

Love and Misadventure

Her Words

Love a girl who writes,
and live her many lives;
you have yet to find her,
beneath her words of guise.

Kiss her blue inked fingers,
forgive the pens they marked.
The stain of your lips upon her-
the one she can't discard.

Forget her tattered memories,
or the pages other took;
you are her ever after-
the hero of her book.

- Lang Leav

The poem above is taken from Love and Misadventure, a book of poems beautifully and solely written by Lang Leav. I really adore her enchanting works that swing between the whimsical and woeful, expressing a complexity beneath the child-like facade. She's my idol and inspiration. Her imagination stretches across a variety of disciplines encompassing art, poetry and books. And the book, Love and Misadventure, is all I've ever wanted. Unfortunately I haven't seen it in any bookstores yet. I hope it'll come here faster and be mine. 

p.s: I'll post Lang Leav's pieces on every Saturday. :)

June 28, 2013

True Tale of Heaven's Trail

I've fallen in love with the above picture since I first saw it on Pinterest. It has a caption saying "Heaven's Trail: A place in Ireland where every two years on June 10-18 the stars line up with this place."

Then I dug a little deeper as I was a curious cat, like always. Why would the stars only line up with this trail every 2 years? Finally I figured out that this photo's originally taken by Thomas Zimmer. He explained how it had been downloaded without his permission and shared without attribution across the internet. 

Read his blog post: My God, It's Full of Stars. See how he told the true tale of a chance every photographer dreams of; a moment when stars and opportunity align for a shot too beautiful to be believed, too captivating to be forgotten. There it was, the Milky Way, visible on the moonless night, perfectly aligned with the stairs. He didn't mention anything about the every-2-years line up. So the man figure in the picture is Thomas Zimmer himself and he set the self timer because he's all alone that night. And the real place is in Germany, not Ireland. Heaven's Trail doesn't exist, but the stairway does. 

You can find it anywhere else in the world actually, on any trail through the darkness. I might even find it someday. :)

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. - W.B. Yeats

Fiction Friday: The Self that Remains

Tom was one of those people we all have in our lives. He's someone to go out to lunch with in a large group, but not someone I ever spent time with one-on-one. We had some classes together in college and even worked in the same lab for a while. He's a good-looking man and almost all girls, including me, had crush on him. But I didn't really know him. Besides, he's out of my league and my love was not the overwhelming kind. Even so, when I heard that he had brain cancer that would kill him in four months, it stopped me cold.

I was 19 when I first saw him in a class taught by a psychologist, Kay. I'd seen Tom at the coffee house, the library and around campus. He seemed enthusiastic and had an exaggerated way of moving that made him unusually focused. I found it uncomfortable to make eye contact with him because his gaze was so intense and I was afraid if he can read my mind.

Once Tom and I were sitting next to each other when Kay told the class about a his colleague who had just died a few days earlier. He told us that his colleague had been a close friend, and had called a month earlier to say he had just been diagnosed with a brain tumor. The doctors said that he'd lose his memory, not his ability to form new memories, but his ability to retrieve old ones, and that he'd lose his old self.

Tom's hand shot up. To my amazement, he suggested that Kay was overstating the connection between memory and overall identity. "Losing memory or not, you still like the same things," Tom argued. "Your sensory systems aren't affected. If you're kind or a jerk, such personality traits aren't governed by the memory."

Kay was unruffled. "Many of us don't realize the connection between memory and self," he explained. "Who you are is the sum total of all that you've experienced. Where you went to school, who your friends were, all the things you've done or all the things you've always hoped to do. Whether you prefer chocolate ice cream or vanilla, action movies or comedies, is part of the story, but the ability to know those preferences through memory is what defines you as a person."

The room was silent. I looked over at Tom's notebook. "Psychologist contemplates losing his mind," Tom had written.

Tom and I crossed paths again years later when we were both working for a research company. I saw Tom in the halls from time to time, said hello and that's it. I wasn't sure if I still had that feeling, but it didn't matter though because I was content with my life as it was and again, my love's not the overwhelming kind. After I left the company to begin an academic job, I ran into a woman from the company who asked if I'd heard the news about Tom.

"He has an inoperable brain tumor. The doctors say he has four months to live. He just got back at his apartment. I just visited him. You might want to drop by and say hello, " she said.

I called the number she gave me immediately and a caregiver answered. We made an appointment for the following day. "He's not so good first thing in the morning. The drugs. And some days aren't good at all. Call first and I'll let you know how he's doing. Apart from that, I should warn you, he doesn't remember very much, the tumor has wiped out his memories of the past."

It's called amnesia.

The next day came. When I knocked at the door, the caregiver invited me in and led me across a fluffy white carpet to the living room. When Tom walked in, I stood up. He came over, shook my hand and said, "thank you for coming."

His hair was thinning, he'd lost weight, but otherwise he looked the same as I remembered him. The same narrow face, same smile, same gaze.

"I don't know if anyone told you," he started, "but I have a brain tumor that affects my memory."

I nodded.

"Please forgive me for asking this, but I do this with everybody. Could you tell me your name again and how it is that I know you?"

"Um...my name is June."

There was neither recognition nor nonrecognition. Just a calm, interested face staring back at me.

"We were students together at Stamford," I continued. "We took a couple of psychology classes together."

"Oh, yes, I have a degree in psychology."

"We were in Professor Kay's class and we worked in a lab together."


"Professor Kay, the psychologist."

"Did I love his subject?"

"Yes, I think you did. You always seemed pretty focused."

"That's good. I'd hate to think that I was doing something I didn't enjoy. So we were students together. I guess that was many years ago. Did we stay in touch after that?"

"Well, we ended up working, a few years later, for the same company. A research corporation."

"Did we work together?"

"No, we were in different divisions. You worked with Jesse, and I worked with Bob. But we saw each other from time to time and I was interested in what your group was doing. Your team gave a really good presentation during the annual roundup. I remember you had worked on a very clever new musical instrument called the bead box."

"Huh?" he said, looking at the ceiling, "the bead box. Doesn't ring a bell. But I don't get many bells ringing these days!" He laughed, a trouble-free laughter and it sounded so nice.

"Well it was very cool," I commented.

He looked over at me. "So, were we friends?"

I just stared. Would it be rude if I told him that I never really thought of him as a friend? I mean, if one person thought of another as a friend, and the other person denied it, that would be hurtful. Should I tell him that I had crush on him? Of course no, I shouldn't. Tom had no memory of me one way or the other. As I was thinking this, he spoke.

"It's okay. There's often this...gray area, I guess you'd call it, in human relationships, isn't there? We meet people, we see them every day, we say hello, but we don't really know them. We say they're our friends, but really, you can't be friends with the hundreds of people you meet, can you? It's enough that we had a shared history together. We were in the same places for a time. We were part of each other's fabric." He made a rubbing gesture with his fingers and thumb.

The phone rang. The caregiver brought it to Tom. It was his mother. Listening to his end of the call, I understood that she herself was bedridden and was not doing well. This was their daily call. I got up to leave but Tom motioned for me to stay. The caregiver took the phone away when he was done.

"It was nice of you to come. It was helpful too. It's comforting to put together the pieces of my life, to see what I've done. To know that there were kind people like you who were in it with me. Thank you," he said.

Then I left, walked down the stairs, past the apartment building, back to my car. Then I sat in my car with the key in the ignition, not wanting to move. Professor Kay felt that when we lose our memory, we lose our entire sense of self. When I saw Tom, something fundamentally Tom was still there. Some of us call it personality or essence. Some call it the "soul." Whatever it is, the tumor that took Tom's memory had not touched it.

I cried, finally. I don't know what did I cry for. But somehow the feeling suddenly became overwhelm. Tom has always been in my memory and I'm glad to know someone like him.

June 25, 2013

Is It a Contentment or Happiness

A few months ago, I talked to my old friend and I asked how's she doing, she said that she “wasn't great but content.” It's a throwaway comment, but it stuck with me. There's this sad permanence in her tone of voice. It's like she reconciled herself to the fact that she’s never going to be great and that it's what it is. I think that sucks. I never want to be content. I want to be happy. Unfortunately, that's what I exactly feel right now after what had happened today. 

I’m not good at much. It’s true. I’m genuinely not saying that to garner sympathy, I’m just a realist. If you were to stack up what I’m good at in one column and what I’m bad at in another, the difference would be staggering. In fact, off the top of my head, my only discernible skills are being nearly unbeatable in Scramble and Candy Crush on the phone. Aside from that, I can write. And even if you aren't entertained by my crap, I am. It makes me happy, not content. That fact is why I’m trying to make a living out of it. That fact also brings me to my point: being content is not being happy. And after today, after 4 years, I don't feel happy at all, but content, because it's not what I'm good at, it's not what I dream for.

Being content is settling. It means that you’re almost happy. It’s like saying you're going to win the gold but settling for silver. Yes. I've found something I love. That’s what I should have done since 4 years ago, I should've gone to the other road, the road not taken. Now I regret and I won't take the wrong turn anymore. I've seen some friends and family doing the things they love. It’s inspiring. It’s also what fuels my attempts to go for my dreams. I still have time. And happiness is the most subjective of things. It’s the most personal journey there is. 

What makes you happy, friends? I imagine for the person who always wanted to be a teacher, it’s when you’re standing in front of your first classroom. I imagine for the person who always wanted to practice medicine, it’s the first time you save someone’s life. And I imagine for someone who always wanted to be a writer, it's the moment you're holding your self-written published book. 

Let's be happy. Don't be afraid to fail but don't choose something you're forced to do. Be afraid to look back when you're old and gray and realize you never tried. That's scary, failing isn't. When someone asks how I’m doing someday, I never want to answer by saying that I’m content. I want to say that I’m great. I realize not everyone can be great. But no one should give up on their own personal pursuit of happiness before trying their absolute effort to get there. 

June 21, 2013

Fiction Friday: Walk On By

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours, and if they don't they never were. - Kahlil Gibran

We ran into each other the other day. In the midst of all the people who went off the train that afternoon, there he was. I hadn't seen him for over a month but you looked just the same. He had that wrinkle I know so well between he eyebrows, the one that he got when he was feeling impatient or annoyed and I couldn't help myself but to smile. 

I'd barely rested my eyes on him for more than a few seconds when he noticed me. A look of recognition and we paved our way through the crowd towards each other. A quiet hi, and of course the most common question of all, “How are you?”

I was just about to answer that everything was fine, everything was just normal, yes everything was just like it was supposed to be, when the words I was going to pronounce got stuck down my throat. He gazed at me with his honest brown eyes, the ones I'd always been able to tell everything and I felt how my lie crumbled into dust. I couldn't lie to his face, I couldn't lie to him at all. So instead I took a deep breath and spoke the truth. 

“It's crap.”
He froze and looked surprised. This wasn't the answer he'd expected to his rhetorical question but I was tired of playing strong so I continued,
“It's crap because you and me are acting like strangers. As if we haven't known each other. It's crap because we don't see each other anymore. I missed you. I missed you so much that it hurts. But do you know what the worst part is? The fact that you don't seem to miss me at all. Are we still together?” 

The waiting hall fell silent. All the train travelers seemed to have disappeared and we were all alone. 
Seconds passed but he remained quiet. I wanted him to say something. I wanted so badly for him to say anything at all but instead he gave me that hurt puzzled look which said, “I don't know what to say,” so I did what first came to mind, I turned around and left. 

I left despite the fact I had so much more to say. More explanations, questions and things I missed about him. And yet, as I stumbled down the stairs with tears rising in my eyes, I got a feeling of accomplishment because at least now, he knew. Now he knows. Now he knows how I feel and where I stand. All my cards are on the table and there is nothing more I can do. It's up for him to decide where we go from here. 

If it is going to be an us or simply just a he and then me. All I want is an answer. An answer to let me moving forward either alone or with him. An answer for me to escape from waiting. But for what it is worth, I'm hoping for the first alternative. I am hoping for an us. 

June 18, 2013

It's Okay to Say No

For some reason we tend to feel like we must always say “yes” to people when they ask a question or a favor. We all want to say "no" more than we actually do.

Will you lend me RM5? Does this shirt look okay? Do you want to go out with me tonight? Do you want this cake? Yes. Yes. Yes. You say yes out loud, but in your heads: “No, I need that RM5". “No, that shirt is awful”. “No, I'd rather just stay home because I'm tired”. “No, I’m not hungry and I’m trying to reduce my weight.”

We over-commit to things, only causing unnecessary stress. If you don’t want to do something, then don’t. You say yes because you don’t want to be rude, but deal with that later. The person you’re saying no to probably won’t mind, if they do, I’m sure they’ll get over it. It’s okay to say no when someone offers you a bad food or drink. It’s okay to say no to the guy who’s taking advantage of you. If standing up for yourself and your morals makes you a bitch, so be it, and be proud of it.

Learn to prioritize the things you’re saying yes to. If you can’t keep your word and commitment then learn that sometimes. It’s okay to say no. 

Self-respect is the root of discipline: The sense of dignity grows with the ability to say no to oneself. 
- Abraham Joshua Heschel

June 17, 2013

Love Clichés

I think it is unfair to base ideas of what love should be on one thing or another. Love isn't a solid fact. It's always different, always shows up in different forms, and is always there when you think it isn't. I think the only common factor is that love is positive. I'm not saying love always leads to positive things (as in Romeo and Juliet) but the impact it leaves on your life is lasting. It'is there for you to compare your feelings to and it's there to help you get through the worst of times. 

Do you know about the Maslow's hierarchy of needs? Come on, everyone knows that. Maslow didn't include love on his hierarchy for no reason. We need it in our lives to survive. I believe dying of a broken heart is a real thing. Love is electric, everlasting, proven, important, beneficial, and most importantly beautiful. Love because you can, because it is beautiful. Everyone needs it, everyone deserves it.

I can't say when you'll get love or how you'll find it or even promise you that you will. I can only say you are worthy of it and that it's never too much to ask for it and that it's not crazy to fear you'll never have it again, even though your fears are probably wrong. Love is our essential nutrient. Without it, life has little meaning. It's the best thing we have to give and the most valuable thing we receive.

Maslow's hierarchy of needs

June 15, 2013

World's Best Dad

His smiles can always dissipate your fears;
His words can always spark you up with wisdom;
His shoulders can always raise you up to reach the stars;
He is the hero in your life, and so we call it...Dad. 
Father’s day gifts at Zazzle.com

It’s a tough world, and you need somebody to prepare you for it. Just like my mom, dad has been a protector, building up my confidence and sheltering me from the bad things in the world as I grew up. Well, everyone has their world's best dad. My dad worked so hard to provide for his family, to ensure that we had an education and we wouldn’t have to work as hard as he did (he tapped rubber trees and sold paintings in his younger age) and start from zero. This work ethic's something that has been instilled in my family, as we don’t do anything halfway (I hope it stays in me).

Dad puts education 1st, so as a kid, I just wanted to make my dad proud. There's sparkle in his eyes when I became the best student at school, yet I could also tell the resentment he had when I failed in Maths later. But he didn't blame me, he blamed the teachers. Lol. When he clapped for me on my academic achievement awards, it's a victory, like, "I've made him proud!". Me and dad have one thing in common: we love books, we love to read. He's been keeping some sets of encyclopedias at home, no one but me and dad have read them. 

I love it when dad cooks. Mom's always the greatest chef, but dad's expert in Western food, especially beef steak and lamb chop. People loved my dad too. Not only because of his generosity, but most importantly, how he connected with people. He spends Friday nights hanging out with his friends, not at the coffee shop, but at the mosque; praying, reading al-Quran, and talking about society growth. And he always makes our guests feel like home. I'm proud of the way my dad being Handy Manny. He built cat's house, hut on a tree, chicken coops, shelves and house of flowers, all by himself. 

We may not say "I love you" to each other directly in family, it's not our thing. But we show our loves in action and I know how much we love each other. He might not reading this blog, but this is for him,

Dear dad,

Thank you for ensuring that I had every opportunity in the world. Thank you for modelling what you want me to be. Thank you for sharing the same hobby with me. Thank you for inspiring me to work my hardest at whatever I do. Thank you for teaching me to be generous. Thank you for showing me that you can be a tough man that can show love in your own way. Thank you for believing in me. You are the world's best dad. Happy Father's Day. :)

Your princess,

June 14, 2013

Make Gifts for People

John Green is an American author and video-blogger extraordinaire. He has written the best-selling novels including Looking For Alaska, Paper Towns and the recent, my favorite, The Fault in our Stars. ^^

Still Into You - Acapella Cover

What pops into your mind when it comes to acapella? Glee's Warblers? Sam Tsui? Pitch Perfect? Of course, now give me a virtual high 5!
There's one more acapella piece you should never missed. It's an acapella cover of Paramore's Still Into You by Kay Kastum. My favorite song from my favorite band! Check this out:

It is so aca-awesome!

If you love this cover, please pretty please vote for him HERE. 

I would really appreciate it! You know how awesome you are. ^^
I love you!

June 12, 2013

Don't Waste it on Anger

Looking back on my life a year ago, most things are different now.
When you’re frustrated, I suggest asking yourself, “will this matter in a year?”. If your answer's yes, well then it must be a rather big issue, and that’s for another day. But most of the time, things that we think matter, really don’t matter at all.

So what if you got cut off on the freeway? So what if they don’t have your size? So what if someone said something behind your back? So what if he didn’t return your phone call? So what?

I've always been told to take a step back and think about things before and after doing them. Things that I was strung up on a year ago, even 6 months ago, don’t matter to me anymore. I feel silly for ever letting those things consume myself and my life.

Take a look back, do the things the things that bothered you so much a year ago still matter? Create a timeline and mark the things that mattered, would you still mark them today? I know life can be tough, but that’s it. It’s life, it’s supposed to be tough, right? It molds us, strengthens us and makes us who we are. If you have emotions, that’s fine. Don’t suppress them, but be realistic, are you working yourself up over the unnecessary?

I’m  not an advocate for perfection, nor a flawless product of which I’m preaching, but I sincerely believe everything happens for a reason, I even believe certain things don’t happen for a reason. Learn to let things go, the only person a grudge hurts is yourself. Forgive others, forget disagreements, and fulfill the life you were sent here to live. Don’t waste it on anger, in fact, don’t waste it at all. :)

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength. - Corrie Ten Boom

June 10, 2013

Stumble on Wondrous Thing

For indeed my life is a perpetual question mark – my thirst for books, my observations of people, all tend to satisfy a great, overwhelming desire to know, to understand, to find an answer to a million questions. And gradually the answers are revealed, many things are explained, and above all, many things are given names and described, and my restlessness is subdued. Then I become an exclamatory person, clapping my hands to the immense surprises the world holds for me, and falling from one ecstasy into another. I have the habit of peeping and prying and listening and seeking – passionate curiosity and expectation. But I have also the habit of being surprised, the habit of being filled with wonder and satisfaction each time I stumble on some wondrous thing.

Anaïs Nin

June 9, 2013

Joblogy: Finding The Job of Your Life

For most of us, choosing or changing a career path is a confusing and anxiety-riddled experience. Today’s college students and their parents are caught in a bind. Research shows that, more than ever, a college degree is key to greater economic security and employment. Yet young grads face the burden of college debt and an incredibly demanding job market that they aren't prepared for. You can’t afford not to succeed in your job search, but you also don’t know the rules or the tools needed to score in today’s job market. If you're going to be working harder, it's even more important to get a job you'll really like; a job that will not only help you meet your financial and career goals, but will also reward your psyche, by stimulating your creativity and giving you that accomplishment feeling that sometimes only the workplace can provide.

So, how do you get started? Well, this seems to be the biggest obstacle we face when it comes to finding a new job. It's just so hard to get started. There's no real deadline and nobody breathing down your neck to make sure you send that resume or call that contact. Fret not, there are many ways to find the job of your life. If you still remember my earlier post about the home tuition website, that's one of the examples for anyone who loves teaching. For more options, here's how to jump-start your job search and keep yourself motivated.

Joblogy is a website for everyone to find internship, contract, full time and part time jobs or known in Malay, jawatan kosong or jawatan sambilan. It is designed to help those who are unemployed, especially college students and recent grads land jobs much faster. It also can reassure parents that there are strategies their kids can use to search for jobs more effectively. Joblogy will give you hope that you will succeed in transitioning to your next adventure, practical ideas about things you can do immediately to make your job search more productive, and links to resources that will support your search. There are so much to learn to make your job search successful. The website can reduce your time spent finding great resources.

So check out www.joblogy.com and sign up now! 

Employer's profile on Joblogy

Job seeker's profile on Joblogy

June 8, 2013

Bittersweet Ending

Today marks the end of my 4-year degree study in UMS. It's a bittersweet ending. After this, so much can happen and here's the thing. It's not about whether or not somebody else thinks what I'm doing is right. It's about doing what's right for me, when I'm ready. It's about living my life, understanding and taking into consideration the advice and hopes others have for me. 

Are you living your life in a way that makes you happy? A way that makes you proud? Are you being brave with your life and at least giving your biggest dreams a chance though others scoff? At the end of the day these are the questions you'll have to answer to yourself, right?

Some of us will find their way. Some will find their homes. Some will start families. And some of us will still be finding our way. But..none of us will it right, none of us will do it wrong. All that matters is that we'll do it the best we can. As for me, I'm still finding my way, fumbling, waiting and fickle. But that's okay.

The adventures I'll have will be more than I could have ever expected. More than anything, if it's been any indication of what's to come, I am ready.

Food Tech sweethearts, 2010-2013

June 4, 2013

To Love

To love at all is to be vulnerable. 
Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. 
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. 
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. 
Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. 
But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. 
It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. 
To love is to be vulnerable. 

C.S. Lewis

June 2, 2013

My Unexplainable Sentiment

I wanna give up sometimes. I wanna crumple up all paper I've ever set my worthless thoughts on and shoot them into dustbin. I wanna drain all memories out of their banks and dump them into the roaring ocean and laugh as they roll away with the waves.

You know, the way you wanna throw away sentiments from an ex lover? Especially after they've ripped your heart out and stomped on it as if it's a fire hazard, until every last ember of love is extinguished into a thick layer of soot that coats the ground beneath their ungrateful feet. That's the way I wish to rid myself of this insatiable thirst to explain the unexplainable. But this is not about any ex lovers. This is about...it's unexplainable.

It's completely and utterly unattainable. Just like the moon will always be out of reach even when it appears to be hanging low enough to grab, so are the perfect words to describe that memory we wish to hold in our wretched hearts forever.

A memory may perch on the tip of our tongues long enough to convince us that we can capture its beauty indefinitely, but just a nanosecond before we obtain the wealth of wisdom, it withholds. It'll flutter away like a butterfly flapping iridescent wings. Just like that it'll vanish into thin air as if it never even existed and we'll soon forget what's so important about that flighty recollection in the 1st place.

I'll forget how incredibly painful losing something so beautiful can be. And at the same time, I'll forget how to trust. That's what frightens me the most. That's what drives me to say ludicrous things about my thirst to explain the unexplainable because I fear, with every ounce of my being, that I'll forget how to trust.

June 1, 2013

Hey June

Well, despite the bad start........

Hey June, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let me into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

Hey June, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get me
The minute you let me under your skin
Then you begin to make it better

And anytime you feel the pain, hey June, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's the fools who play it cool
By making their world a little colder

Hey June, don't let me down
You have found me, now come and get me
Remember to let me into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

So let it out and let it in, hey June, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you, hey June, you'll do
The movement you need is on your shoulder

Come Home, Kitties

After 3 weeks, I am finally home and find myself crying really, really hard. It's been a while I didn't cry so hard since the last time when my deary cat, Asmara, died on the road. Now my 3 kitties and a mummy cat have gone missing. Mom said we lost them almost a month now. A month! And I never knew it till today, I am the last person to know about my missing cats. My heart shatters to pieces.

It's quite hard to believe, so I went knocking every door of my neighbors & crossing the dried paddy field to find my kitties. But they're nowhere to be found. If they're just wandering around, they would've came back. My kitties are either lost in somewhere, being kidnapped or donated. Either way, I should've known from the start, my family should let me know. I deserve to know! But I don't blame my family though..even I could  be angry at them.

Whoever has my kitties now, he/she better be nice to them & love them as much as I do. If I ever found that he/she is treating them badly, I'd make sure he/she lives in miserable. But if they're still wandering somewhere and couldn't get their back.......... *sobbing*..I hope they're safe and sound. 

My deary kitties, please come home..... :'(


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