I Bought a Plant

I bought a plant. A beautiful green and pink and leafy thing. Plants are having a moment in my life right now. They have a way of making a home of a place. Not to mention they suck toxins right out of the air. Which is to say, superpowers.

I was away from home for weeks and there's no one to water the plant. I almost killed it. I was hopeful that it might yet come back to life. I mean, not too terribly hopeful, but hopeful enough. The pink's gone and the leaves, cold to the touch, have folded in on themselves, but things are cyclical, plants, especially. And I was willing to invest a little a bit of time to see how it played out. And to practice hope, even when it didn't feel reasonable. Or rational. I was investing in radical self-love. Which is what the plant was all about.

Things are cyclical. Especially life. It took me a very many years to untangle the mess of all the many things I felt. A giant ball of yarn. A thousand small threads that I called one thing.

And now a spade is a spade. Sadness is a thing. But happiness, too. The latter shaped almost entirely by the former. Which is a nearly impossible thing to try and explain to someone who hasn't lived through it. There's a quote that I've been searching for. Something like, only the nearly-drowned-man can understand the person who stands on the shore laughing just because there's air in his lungs. I have bastardized these words. Someone else said them much better, and to much greater effect, but as I can't find them, I offer up my poorer version.

When I was living in that shoebox of Usia apartment there was a night when I turned to the girl I was living with and read her a set of words, not my own, and she looked at me, head half turned, and said, but what do they mean? I long ago gave up wondering what words mean. I'll wonder about gestures and events and the idiosyncrasies of almost anything, but never words. Far more concerned, as I am, with what they feel like. You can't explain suffering someone to someone. You can't tell them of the beauty that exists inside of that very dark place. You can only wrestle with the warring feelings of not wanting a person fail, and knowing that they need to.

Plants die and they come back to life. And hope in the face of ridiculous things is important. Even if it's absurd. Sadness is a part of my life. Because it needs to be. Because it's important and good and telling. Because it shapes who I am. Because it's one hell of an educator. Because sadness rears its head and says, fight for yourself! And I know enough now to listen.

Unpredictable

The weather has been so strange lately, so unpredictable. For days we've seen a mix of sun and fog, extreme heat one day followed by brisk cold the next. Yesterday, what felt like a light breeze suddenly turned into a gust of wind so powerful I had to stop in the middle of the street so to keep from blowing right over. Needless to say, things have been changing rather suddenly these days, rather unexpectedly.

As a creature of habit, as someone who leans toward the familiar, toward routine, it usually bothers me when weather isn't steady, when I wake up and don't have any idea what I'll find outside my window. Usually, that makes me uneasy. Recently, though, my life has matched the odd weather; things have been constantly shifting, any sense of routine tossed right out the window.

And it's been just what I needed. Invigorating, exhilarating, altogether satisfying. Funny, isn't it, how sometimes we believe we know just what we need, when all along the universe knows better?

And So, You Get Up

Sometimes, life's heavy.

You don't notice it at 1st. It's like collecting stones. You start slowly, gently. At 1st, you can't feel the weight. Then it becomes harder to notice what's in front of you. You can't see the scope, the slope of the landscape, because you're focused on carrying the foundation. It's easier to shoulder it all and numb yourself to the weight.

But there's that place. That point where you read your threshold, your valley. Maybe you've walked for so long that you're bone weary and ringed with grief. Or perhaps you ran, the entire way, and your breath's knocked out of you. And you realize you don't know where you are, how you arrived. You look back and see that you've missed the markers, missed the milestones, missed the moments. Too busy holding onto the heaviness of the journey. It's been like that for so long that you're afraid you won't know who you are without it.

You have to let it go. To not go apathetic. To not go numb. To not go quiet. Don't let sorrow swallow your song. You need to be awake to the world, to life, to yourself. It feels like running for the 1st time, like stretching your shuddering muscles, like walking in the cold dew of morning. It stings. You start in the dark, with only the promise of sun. There's no light to outline the path. It doesn't matter. You've forgotten the road anyways. You've walked so long without one that trails are unfamiliar and foreign.

There's no hiding from brokenness. There's no running from grief. Some manage to evade it for longer, others find it knocking on their door daily. It has a face you cannot forget, leaves its calling card everywhere it goes. We're each stitched with ribbons of our every heartache, except, some of us are frayed. Even the best of us have tears.

Sometimes it feels easier, better, to go cold. To give into the pain and become numb, and once again, pick up the skeleton of who you were before grief marked your face. To let your heart harden. Lock it away and melt the key and live in the motions, never the moment. At the very point of pain, it seems less exhausting. But passivity's a silent slow killer, a lie that laps away at the texture of life like water on the stone.

And so, you get up. You keep moving though your bones ache. You walk until you run. You hum until you can sing. You catalogue small things until you can once again take in the scope. You choose to be awake. It's surprisingly painful. It's sobering to look around and realize you have forgotten what it means to be alive, for so long. It's October and you're barefoot and the ground has still not thawed.

Breathe. Again and again. Dive into the core and pressure point of your pain, the heart of your ache. It's red hot and white and bitter black. It shakes like starlight. You swallow it like stones. But you emerge and understand, it hasn't added a layer to your heart, but a ring. It's not a mark, but a message.

The thing about being awake is you notice things; good, bad, beautiful, painful, sorrow, sweet, bitter, broken, dizzying between everything. You cry more. You laugh deeper. You understand broken things and encourage flowers to just be. You find your soul sprouting little green things, that the roots of the marrow of being haven't left after all. And it's painful, the fire of wakening running like blood. You've been asleep for so long feeling's foreign.

But you begin to appreciate what's small. You begin to breathe gratitude. You stumble on meaning, find grace woven alongside ache. It's not easy, it's not quick. It's gradual, a journey. This time, instead of collecting stones, you're collecting colors of the sky. You jot down thanks and let them go wild in the plum breath of the evening. The smear of jam on toast, black coffee in the morning, a walk in the evening that lingers.

Look at the trees, how they burn. Look at the fields, how they deepen. Look at the world, how it cries. It's a choice to go deep and live through your pain, to feel it all, to choose to be awake to what comes. Bravely, when the time beckons, to let it go. Knowing that the struggle and searching builds strength, story, a song. Only, you'are alive and present and find the words to sing inside you, and they were, all along.

LAMAN: Back in Time

LAMAN is Malaysia's number one garden and landscape magazine. It's inspiring. As someone who resides in a garden made by my parents, I'm truly in love with this magazine as I could find all information about the world of plants and landscape in it. This magazine inspires us to create our dream garden. It's packed with dazzling images, informative tips and design ideas that are practical as well as beautiful. The recommendation of optional accessories and garden furniture by LAMAN magazine promises our gardens to be transformed into something more beautiful and exquisite. I'm glad to have this magazine because it contains everything I ever wanted to know about the world of garden art.

The March/April 2014 issue (49th edition) of LAMAN fascinates me with many great topics. The topic entitled "Gaya Hias: Kembalikan Nostalgia Itu" on page 20 is one of my favorites. It shows the idea of using antique things as decoration to create vintage style garden. It's about repurposing, upcycling and reusing old items. A vintage garden is the opposite of the modern way of living with consumption and throwing away used stuff. It's about preserving the old and beautiful and also a way of creating another way of life. It's just so wonderful to see how those antique and vintage pieces are preserved to continue the memories of days gone by in so many creative and wonderful ways. 

There are several suggested repurposed vintage items featured on the pages such as a bird in a cage, water in clay crock with a laddle made of coconut shell, old rubber machine, old trolley, stone mortar, millstone, old bicycle, old wheel, rattan coop, bell, carved wood, rattan fish trap, damaged fan, etc. Some people might see these things as rusty junks, but for some others who love vintage, these items are treasures. Gardening with antiques can add a lot of whimsy to any garden or even a front porch area.

My parents also love to use some old stuff for things they weren't really meant to be used for. So I show the pages to my mother, then she immediately gets the idea to make a vintage style in our garden. There's no ending to what can be used in a vintage garden. If one starts to look at things with new eyes, almost anything can be used. An aquarium can be transformed into a display item for example, like some small flower plants or cactus. We have some old trolleys, bicycles, shelves, tables, etc..I'm sure we can use them too and get a total different appearance. Everything can be of use, the only thing that can restrict your creativity is your imagination limits. :)

Thanks to LAMAN magazine for being such an inspiration.

Rain, Finally

I spent the past week soaking up the sunlight, cherishing the bright blue skies and the clear sunsets, knowing full well that the rainy days were on their way. It arrived today, the rain, and I'm surprisingly thrilled. There hasn't been any rain in weeks, hardly any at all since I started teaching, and I've been missing that mood. The mood that can only be found on a rainy day.

I listen to music more often when it rains, quietly, so I can still here the drops. I drink more coffee. I read more, write more, take baths just because. I watch movies I've meant to see for years. I cook; stews and soups, foods that leave you warm and fulfilled. I clean and catch up with friends, occasionally attempt an art, and I lie there, half awake, half dreaming, and watch the water blur the view from my window.

Yes. I've missed the rain.

The Gardeners' Daughter

tulip field in Netherlands

Yes I am. Both my parents really love planting and gardening; mostly are flowering plants, but there are also some mango, rose apple, chiku and rambutan trees. This place that I'm living in, you may call it a house in the garden. My parents' interest started with growing bougainvilleas and cactus. Yes, they're beautiful but I complained when we got many pots of bougainvilleas because watering them everyday was tiring and I had to clean the fallen flowers and leaves. Now the gardens have grown from the front to backyard and there are various of plants and flowers. I don't complain anymore, I still water the plants and clean the yards because I take that as my responsibility to help my parents. Besides, I've started to enjoy it as I love the gardens. Honestly, I don't have the knowledge and skills of gardening (I planted tomato and it died), I don't have the passion that my mom has. But I want to learn, because someday I might also want to have my own garden. 

Gardening gives a creative outlet and a personal link to nature. It helps me feel attached to the earth and reminds me that I'm part of nature which tend to change. I'm thankful to have parents that love nature. And I just adore the things that they have in common, apart from love. It's soothing to see the happiness in mom's face when dad bought her new type of plant/flower, new pots, and soil, and then they would do the gardening together. Sometimes they just hang out in the garden, I can't hear the conversation, but watching them is enough to make me smile. Last year in November my dad booked flight tickets for himself and mom to visit nurseries in Selangor as a gift for their anniversary. Holy moly! Imagine how happy mom was. It's one of the sweetest thing about them!

mom at flower nursery

My dad has just retired from work, so he spends most mornings and evenings outside taking care of the plants. So recently he just finished building a hut for the plants and flowers, now we have 4 houses; orchid hut, caladium hut, plumeria hut, and herbaceous plant hut. There are many kinds that I can't name and recognize in every house, which are bought by mom and dad from many nurseries they've went to. While the bougainvilleas are scattered everywhere around our house. Told you, it's the house in the garden. It's a sanctuary, my safe haven.

I'm not sure what's the plan after mom's retirement this year. I heard they want to open a nursery business, but it's not confirmed yet. I don't know if mom could sell the flowers to people, I mean she really loves the flowers. But what I'm sure is that someday when I have enough money, I want to take my parents to any world's greatest flower fields. Like, tulip field in Netherlands, sunflower field in Italy, lavender route in France, ranunculus field in California, or at least the Flower and Garden Festival at Floria Putrajaya. It's my dream. And I hope it may come true someday. :)

caladium hut

herbaceous hut

orchid hut

plumeria hut

When it Rains

Nothing can be more of a bummer when you have your day planned for going outside and the rain pours. While it's true that nothing beats the feeling of warmth brought about by sunshine, it doesn't mean that you can't have fun being indoors. You might feel that jogging feels more refreshing; shopping's a lot more fun; and other activities seem to become more interesting when the sun's out. But there are many things that you can do when it's raining when you feel like you have no choice but to be cooped at home. I don't feel cooped at all. So what I do when it rains?

Read a book. This might seem like a cliche, but it's really fun.

Watch movies. HBO, Fox, AXN and Star World are my favorite channels. 

Watch tv series that I've recorded in PVR.

Cook a lot; from my favorite meals to the new ones with new recipes. Bake. It's fun to do experiment in the kitchen especially when it rains.

Cuddle with my cats and let them nibble on my fingers. 

Enjoy a good hot cup of coffee or tea.

Browse some fancy stuff like shawls, blouses, shirts, dresses and places to go to someday.

When creativity strikes, I make some D.I.Y projects.

Sometimes I write; short stories, poems, random unsent letters. 

Learn to play piano with my old keyboard.

Blog..like right now. 

Read biographies of famous and inspirational people. 

Listen to cool songs, mostly Paramore's. 

Sleep. 

I don't do all of these things at one rainy day all at once. Since it's been endlessly raining for days, I do different things everyday. However, I still hope that the sun will shine again soon because I do miss going out with my friends..and I need the sun to dry my clothes. 

So what do you do at home when it's raining?

There will come a time when you love the sun again, you will love the flowers; but right now you may love the mist, the rain and the passing of time. Because it reminds you most of yourself, it reminds you of the uncertainty of the future and the loss of the pass. And that's okay, because you're learning to love those little parts of yourself that can be so easily forgotten in the glow and warmth of the sun. One day though, you will dance in the rays of afternoon and you will bask in the hope of restoration. But until then, know that you're allowed to love those silent moments of your life.

We are Leaves

I used to collect leaves and put them between pages of books. I do still love it, I'm just not collecting leaves anymore. You might see it as a hobby. Yes, but mostly, I like leaves because they're a lot like people. I'm not a leaf expert, but I know they're designed to maximize their exposure to light and arranged on a plant so as to not shade one another from the sun, to make sure they all grow. So kind. That's what those leaves are. Leaves are a product of their environment; the design and structure depend on the climate and external factors they're exposed to. Humans are the same.

We all thrive when we have enough exposure to light, whatever it is that your light may be. Much like leaves, when people are being their best selves, we allow room for one another to flourish. And we help each other to get there. We're products of our experiences, environments and challenges. And I believe wholeheartedly that we're doing our best, despite our present circumstances. We're weathered too. And that's what make all seasons of our lives so beautiful.

Leaves don't just fall. They're let go of by the tree, by gracefully drifting to the ground to help the tree survive. As they lay there decorating the earth's ground, they contribute their remaining nutrients to the soil. The leaves fall, land and change for a reason. So do we.

And so if you can look down at the ground and find beauty in the leaves that have fallen from their tree, can you do the same for people? When you see someone going through a difficult time or living their life in a way that's incomparable to yours, can you challenge yourself to place them in a different light? Before you make that harsh judgement, can you look them in the face and find their beauty? Can you appreciate their uniqueness? Can you remember how beautiful they once were and still are? Can you remember, that like leaves, seasons change for people too? And can you adjust your life accordingly so that they too can have some exposure to light?

Leaves have taught me that just because someone may not be high up on a tree, doesn't mean they're not adding brightness and value to the world. And at the end of your life, I'll wonder how gently you walked the earth.

Did you plant something that will grow? A seed of kindness? A smile on your face to light up someone else's? A vegetable garden? A whisper of hope? And did you grow your roots? Did you invest in something that will outnumber all of your days? Did you form loving bonds with your family members that can't be undone? And did you sit in silence on a cool, fall day and marvel at the wonder of the world? Did you appreciate its beauty? Did you offer thanks to God? 

In the Mourning

the last picture of us together

It was 27th November 2013. My grandma came to house that morning. She looked pale and tired, but was still smiling and cheerful. So we talked like usual, she told me about gardening and planting coconut trees at aunt's house (which she couldn't make it). I showed my convocation pictures to her and she's happy for me. She also hoped that she could see my wedding one day. Then I asked her to rest and watch tv for a while as I did laundry, but when I got back she's already went back home. 

Only that evening I realized that it was the last day I saw and talked to my grandma. Around 3pm, she felt uneasy, was hard to breathe..she asked my aunt to help her taking a bath and apologized to everyone for being a burden before she's taken to hospital where she's admitted to ER. I didn't join them (which I regret) because I had to take care of my niece. Then I did the weirdest thing that day; I vacuumed the carpets and changed the curtains. I didn't know why I did that, as if people were coming for an occasion. I mean, I just did. I went to hospital with my dad before 6, but when I got there, everyone's weeping, crying..I knew it's already too late. The doctor said he'd done everything he could. My grandma's blood pressure was too low, her heart was too weak and there's a sudden attack of pneumonia. 

I ran into the ER and saw my grandma in the bed, white and unconscious. My mum, aunts and others were crying around her..but I just can't go nearer because I felt so sick and weak. I thought I was prepared. I wasn't. I got out of the room, ran to empty space until I couldn't feel my feet..sat on the floor and cried so hard. I recalled every moment with grandma..when I was kid, when we celebrated something, few weeks ago, and that morning. I recalled our last moments together. I can't believe things happen in a blink of an eye. She's gone. The person I love, the person I talk to everyday has gone now.

It's been 4 days now. I've been losing sleep, losing interest in everything, losing myself in deep thoughts, my body and mind are out of sync, my tears have dried but my heart's still broken. It's like I'm still stuck in the morning of 27th November. 4 days and it still lingers. I'm trying to keep things together. I told myself all the right things to justify why it was okay.

Deep in my heart, I'm thankful to Allah because grandma slipped away in peace. She's left us miracle and a lot of greatest life lesson. At least for me. She had lived a full life. She's the friendliest person I've ever known. She treated everyone, even strangers, kindly like they're her family and friends. She loved to do sedekah. She's hardworking and never tired of giving useful advice along with interesting stories. She's funny and a bit of superstitious, and that's how we love her. She used to advise us to be aware of death as much as to obey Allah's rules in sickness and health. The way grandma lived her life has changed me: I aim to be as loving to others as she was to people. In this way, her spirit lives on through me. One flap of my grandma's wings creates a wave that will ripple on into the future indefinitely. 

Though she couldn't get to see my wedding, I'll remember her when the time comes. I'll always remember grandma. May Allah rest her soul in eternal peace. Al-Fatihah..

Strong as the Wolf Pack

A wolf pack is like the Mafia. Everyone has a position in it. 

An alpha wolf is the leader of the pack. This is the mob boss, the brains of the outfit, the protector, the one who tells the other wolves where to go, when to hunt, what to hunt. The alpha is the decision maker, the capo di tutti capi, who, from 10 feet away, can hear the change of rhythm in a prey animal's heart rate. The alpha's actually far too valuable, as the decision maker, to put himself in harm's way.

Which is why in front of every alpha is a beta wolf, an enforcer. The beta rank is the bold, big thug who's pure aggression. He'll take you down before you get too close to the boss. He's completely expendable. If he gets himself killed, no one will really care, because there's always another brute to take his place.

Then there's the tester wolf, who's very wary and suspicious, who doesn't trust anyone he meets. He's always scouting for change, for something new, and he'll be hiding out at every corner to make sure that, when and if it happens, he's there to alert the alpha. His skittishness is integral to the safety of the pack. And he's the quality-control guy too. If someone in the pack doesn't seem to be pulling his weight, the tester will create a situation where the other wolf has to prove his mettle. Like picking a fight with the enforcer, for example. If that beta can't knock him to the ground, he doesn't deserve to be the beta wolf anymore.

The omega wolf was thought to be a scapegoat and at the bottom of the hierarchy, but he plays a key role in the pack. If 2 animals are fighting, the omega will jump between them and will clown around, until suddenly the 2 angry wolves have taken their emotions down a notch. Everyone gets on his job, and no one gets hurt. The omega holds the critical position of peacemaker. Without him the pack couldn't function; they'd be at a war with each other all the time. 

Say what you will about the Mafia, but it works because everyone has a specific role to play. They all do what they do for the greater good of the organization. They'd willingly die for each other. The other reason a wolf pack is like the Mafia? Because, for both groups, there's nothing more important than family

- I get this from Lone Wolf by Jodi Picoult. It's an amazing story. You can read my review here. 

And I've also learned that there are 3 types of wolf howls: a rallying howl, which is a vocal beacon to bring back a missing member of the pack; a locating howl, which is like a voice message to give the placement of any pack that's in the area; and finally, a defensive howl, which is much deeper, and used to protect your territory. Amazing huh?

To be One with Nature

Me and The Baks were supposed to have a trip to Kundasang on last Tuesday. But something came up so we had to cancel it. Yet it didn't stop right there because we had another plan, like always. Well that's how we roll, we won't let the day goes by without any interesting stuff to do as we got our hopes up to have fun. So on that Tuesday, we were going on an awesome picnic at Kibambangan Water Park, just a small place in Penampang. As small as it is,  it's beautiful and such a joy to be one with nature, to listen to the sounds of flowing river, insects and birds chirping in the nearby woods and feel the cold, refreshing water to dip in. It's such a bliss and ideal way to escape concrete jungle. It's quite an adventure to get there actually as the place is located in deep rural area of Penampang, the road is hilly, and when we got there, we had to cross a swinging bridge. Much fun!

So we brought along some food and stuff; tuna sandwiches, marinated chicken wings, snacks, sausages, rice, drinks, BBQ set, mats, etc. Luckily it's a weekday and the place's empty, we easily found a perfect spot for our picnic, just right at the riverbank. While the guys were dipping in the river, other friends and I barbecued the marinated chicken wings and sausages. We really loved the chicken wings. Honestly it's the best BBQ chicken I ever ate. I don't know why, but maybe the marinating time was long enough for the chickens to absorb all ingredients. We never thought that a cheap BBQ sauce that I picked could do wonders. I can take credits, right? Lol. 

I didn't miss the chance to get down in the river, sit on rocks and soak my feet. It's cold but I liked it. I also helped out my friend, Jasper, to design a pool by rearranging the rocks and building dam. Then it started drizzling. When the sky's getting darker and the rain kept pouring, we moved our things into huts, except the grill as we can't move the burning charcoals. So they took a wooden table from the hut and made it as shelter for the grill. Despite the crazy weather, we still had so much fun munching away happily on our food, listening to music, singing and chatting while waiting for the rain to stop. But it didn't stop. As it rained heavily, the river flowed faster and water level got higher. It's frightening. You could die if you fell into it. 

It was still raining when we packed up things and went back. Crossing the wet swinging bridge while the stream ran fast beneath really scared the hell out of me. Well, it's a wonderful day and we're surely gonna do it again next time. ^^

Ifo and Naszreen were starting the charcoal fire

Bon appetit!

Teamwork

From left: Naszreen, Jasper and me

Rock pool.

Behind the scene

Me and Russel took the initial shift to burn the chickens

We had fun ^^

Rise Like a Phoenix

Sometimes, we have to fall down and scrape our knees to remember that we're human, that we're alive. We're earthbound creatures yearning for the sky, so naturally the more we leap upward the further we have to fall. It's the law of the land, it's gravity. What we must remember in these trying times is that we're capable of rising again. We can rise up from the ashes as a beautiful phoenix when before we were merely a jailbird chained to a perch.

That's not to say that we'll never fall again. But with each dive, we transform into something brighter and better. We learn how to adapt to our surroundings, how to read the red flags and how to detour out of arm’s way. After climbing to reach the height of freedom and being slammed back into reality, we learn that life is not perfect, but life is beautiful even when it feels so ugly.

We remember who we are at our lowest, where we came from. We become one with the dirt, with the flowers, and with the trees and we take a lesson from nature and continue reaching for the sun. We come to terms with the fact that if we fall out of line, no one will be saving our spot for when we're able to return. We have to save ourselves. We have to believe in ourselves and when we do, well, that's when we achieve the impossible. That's where miracles are born and bred in abundance.

Sometimes, we have to fall down and scrape our knees to remember that we're human, that we're alive.

Remember that.

Conquering the Bald Hill

Bald Hill, Sepangar, Sabah

Me and The Baks went out as a team again yesterday to hike and conquer the Bald Hill Sepangar, which is also known by the locals as Bukit Botak or Bukit Gundul. All this time, I could only see the hill from car window, now I know that it's conquerable and we made it! It's a beautiful green hill with bald top (no trees) that you'd notice if you're in Sepangar area. As it's a unique hill, I was on cloud 9 when they set up a plan to hike there. 

There are 2 starting points to climb Bald Hill, one from UiTM, another from a construction site next to MARDI (the one that we used). We started hiking around 10 am which was quite late already as the scorching sun was rising high. To get to the peak of the hill, we had to go through deep jungle, climb and cross a valley. It's really challenging for a first-timer like me. Okay, to be more specific, we're all first-timers, none of us had ever climbed it before and we took the challenge without any guides. So we just followed the existing trail, that's almost covered by bushes and long grass, with our instincts. 

take 2

beautiful woods

feel like rangers :p

almost there

We reached the Bald Hill peak after an hour. Subhanallah, it's so beautiful! We're amazed by the mesmerizing view from up there and despite the hot sun, the breeze was soothing. We can see the UMS, sea of Sepangar Bay, islands, navy base, and the whole KK city! They could even see their houses! Lol. And yes, at the highest peak, it's really bald, no bushes or trees, except a lone bamboo tree, Sabah flag and long grass. We just sat there, took pictures, relaxed and ate some foods that we brought along to fuel up while enjoying our beautiful land of Sabah. 

The journey of going down was another story. I never thought that going down could be more challenging than going up. Because of tiredness and less focus (we talked a lot) while climbing, we got lost twice. Not leaving marks was a mistake, and we didn't see the trail clearly. The situation reminded me of "The Road Not Taken" but there's no time to joke about it. It took them quite a while to figure out the correct trail. I didn't help at all as I was too tired to think, but of course I was worried if we stuck there forever. It's gonna rain and we must go down before dark. Alhamdulillah, we found the trail anyway. But then, my legs were too tired to deal with the steepness. I made a wrong step, tripped and fell to the ground. Man, it hurt. My doctor-to-be friend checked my ankle if it's broken. Thank God it's fine. I fought the pain and forced myself to continue the journey. Going down was agony. 

Well, we returned safely. Despite the wrong turn, clumsy step and fatigue, we had so much fun. Honestly, it's worth our time. It's a great adventure and surely we'll climb again next time with complete preparation. Heeee.. 

we made it

at the summit

just resting

hey KK

another great day with them

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

Big, Big World

I thought I'd share part of my list of places I someday hope to visit:

Munich, Germany

Santorini, Greece

Verona, Italy

Prague, Czech Republic

New York, USA

Paris, France

I'm not sure what I'll do, but..well, I want to go places and see people. I want my mind to grow. I want to live where things happen on a big scale. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

A Perfect Closure

So here I am in my hostel apartment on the first night of final semester, reminiscing all the memories made in holiday. Heh. I miss home already. I miss my friends. We don't just say goodbye without having something memorable to share on the last day, you know. Just to make a sweet farewell. It's not like we wouldn't see each other again, but the next holiday is way ahead. So as a closure of semester break, last Friday me and The Baks went on a trip to Kundasang.

We rented a van and Ifo's cousin, Juan, was the driver. The best moments of this trip were when we're doing fun things together inside the van along the journey. We're telling stories and riddles, talking about politics (seriously), making fun of each other, playing ukulele, singing, taking pictures and enjoying the stunning scenery of natures. It's great. So we reached at our 1st destination, Desa Dairy Farm, around 11 am. We're too early and didn't get to see the milking process as it starts on 3 pm. But we got to meet and touch some adorable calves and goats, and even feed them. I wasn't into goats because they smell like.....you know, goats.

in Nissan Urvan

lets buy some milk

Ifo wants to adopt one

we are young

Then we went to the other side of Mesilau where we saw a beautiful golf court that looked like a garden. I think they better turn it into a garden instead. Besides, I didn't see anyone playing golf. And then there's a beautiful big house surrounded by pine trees (I'm not sure if they're really pine trees) that looked like the Cullens' house. So we called it as Twilight house. 

this is not sinetron

We dropped by for a little while at a river that flows from Mount Kinabalu. It was so beautiful but dude, I could be frozen even for 5 minutes. The water's ice cold. 

After having lunch at Ranau town, we headed to Poring Hot Spring. I didn't do more than feet dipping, because I didn't feel like jumping into the pool. But I was amazed by the beauty of Kipungit Waterfall, despite feeling tired of walking through the jungle trail to get there. Then we took off to Luanti to experience the fish massage at Tagal river, but unfortunately it's already closed by the time we arrived. I was actually relieved because their descriptions about the vacuum-like fishes were quite intimidating. 

Kipungit Waterfall.
pay no mind to those mermaids

these guys have been my brothers (except Ifo..well, he's more than that). awesome day.

It's already dark and we headed home. We stopped at Kundasang green stalls to buy some fruits and vegetables. I bought long cabbages and some mushrooms for mum and sister. My dear friend, Lan, bought 2 pieces of pomelo flesh (limau bali), but I was the one who ate them till finish. :p It's my favorite. Heeee..

I was half asleep on the way back. Actually I was trying hard to sleep because I didn't want to listen to their ghost stories, but I can't. Telling ghost stories at night on a long journey? Really? They're so mean. :p

We had dinner at a restaurant in Tuaran before saying goodbye to each other. 

Although it was only a day, the trip was awesome. ^^