Well hello.

00:00

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

At the stroke of midnight, the moment the clock reached the numerical value (00:00) that proves the existence of a foreseeable period that we shall all call 2010, I eliminated everything that draws a connection between myself and the bustling cyber world.

Well clearly 'everything' is an exaggeration.

I only deleted my Twitter account. Because of a resolution to keep what is meant to be kept. Candor is no longer believable nor reliable when it is done through an overly open space. There are too many factors that could degrade or compromise honesty. It is also no longer refreshing when everything is spoken, or learned about, through the internet and not through personal contact. Gone are the days when we can find ourselves in a spot where we are the only ones, or at least amongst the very few, that know exclusively about a person. The little tingle we feel when a close friend or a family member has just told us about an important and private matter. The little tingle that makes us feel, in a way, special and appreciated.

I am not saying that it is wrong to write or say about everything that happens to us for the whole world to know. It's a rather personal choice isn't it? It is just that, through a surge of reflective thinking, I find that I have become an over-sharer. And I am not really comfortable with it.

But I may be saying one thing today, and the complete antonym tomorrow. After all, I am only human.

It is, however, impossible to throw my Facebook account straight into the bin, because schoolwork depends a great deal on it. And deleting this space here is just out of the question because I need to mix and match all my photographed pictures. Doing so is the only way that will keep me sane. It has become a habit.

But I think I am on the right track, and have made a good start. A good start to a year of complete honesty, privacy and brevity.

Happy new year.

Amir aka Jacob Black (hehe)

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 01:09:00 +0000

Amir & Iman

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 00:56:00 +0000

Iman's Burberry Poncho

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 23:40:00 +0000

Oh so warm and fuzzy.

What I want and what I need are two very different things.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 15:19:00 +0000

1. I WANT to stay in bed all throughout the holidays (possibly turning into yeast as I do it, which may I say I do not mind at all) and watch all the movies and TV shows that I've downloaded without having to so much as lift a finger because I already have everything stashed around me on the bed, ie. charger, food, drinks, extra pair of socks.

I NEED to clean my room because, well, picture above explains it and uh, something's starting to reek (and it's not me).

2. I WANT to continue with my all-cereal diet and be okay with it.

I NEED to go to Tesco because we have nothing left to eat but, guess what, cereal. Also because my bowel is giving me a hard time in the toilet. Remember to buy some oranges at Tesco.

3. I do not WANT to include bathing in my daily schedule.

I NEED to take a bath right about now because oy vey I am convulsed by the smell and I do not appreciate looking like a baboon while I scratch my scalp and say, through gritted teeth, 'Die dandruff die'.

EDIT - I just went to the kitchen to get more cereals, and there it was, staring back at me with its blank nothingness - an empty shelf! Such a dismal sight it was! We're out of cereals! Oh scratch number 2, now I WANT to go to Tesco. Forget bathing, this is an emergency!

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 01:13:00 +0000

There is this sense - a rather peculiar one - that I feel while I lay perfectly still on the loft bed, looking out the window at all the fallen snowflakes on the road far ahead. A sense of being loved.

Whatever Love is.

Beauty in a second, Death, in another.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 18:19:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 17:29:00 +0000

Leave Me from Daros Films on Vimeo.

Jane in London, November 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 19:59:00 +0000

I didn't take that many pictures of you, but that's okay, because like all the people that really matters to me, I already have a picture of you in my heart.

"south of the border, down Mexico way"

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 19:59:00 +0000

(by Frank Sinatra)

My attention span has been waning these past few days. I found myself looking out the window at restaurants, shifting my gaze sideways while people talk to me. I found myself staring people straight in the eyes and all the way through the back of their heads. Maybe I am just not interested in what people are talking about. Or maybe, I am just not interested in people.

I will be honest - I have never really been into 'people'. I like looking at beautiful people though. I could gaze at a physically attractive person (be it male or female) for a whole day long, but beyond that, I don't want to know or learn anything else about the person. I don't prefer to share my experiences with people either. Experiences I gained from reading books, from listening to different kinds of music, from just, living. I guess it is true, that in that sense, I could be called a stuck-up loner.

I think it's innate. Or the fact that, in some kind of a twisted plot from dear ol' Fate, I turn out to be an only child made me a stuck-up loner. An only child. Wow, sure is a mouthful to me. Sure is a--

Oh hey will you look at that, after just one post of saying that I will eventually tell my stories, I am already giving away hints. Must be a breezy day.

Breezy, breezy day
South of the border, down Mexico way.

Stories on a breezy day

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 21:24:00 +0000

I was sitting on the middle sofa in the living room, looking at every person in front of me while they held a casual conversation in the midst of the regular fried chicken dinner. On the surface I looked calm. On the surface I looked like I had nothing on my mind. Every once in a while I could find myself joining in the conversation. I knew exactly what the discourse was about, how the topic moved from one subject to another. I responded to every one of them, sometimes just slightly, sometimes a little more elaborate. But just like retractable claws, my attention to the discourse came and went, quite abruptly. Because only on the surface I looked calm. Only on the surface I looked carefree. But underneath I was shaken. Underneath, I was terrified. For it to be exposed, all it needed was a little scratch on the surface.

To be completely honest, I don't know whether it is fortunate, or unfortunate, that that surface has never encountered a single scratch before. Sometimes I feel safe. The fact that I am not figured out makes me feel safe. Like the way I felt last summer, while on the road with my mother and aunt, going across the east-west highway. The view took me away. Everything from the mountains to the roads far ahead were dressed in a somber hue. Every single thing was its own entity, but there were no clear outlines separating them from one another. The trees and the sky above them blended together perfectly. Everything was, all in all, one. I felt safe driving in the middle of it all. I felt like I was, too, one with them. Like if I wanted to tell them anything, I could.

I wanted to keep feeling safe, but once I reached the city, every thing was back to being their own individual. We were no longer "one". I felt like I was being thrown out. I felt rejected, dejected, disheartened. Eventually I too became my own individual. I could not relate to anything around me. I felt terrified to let myself out in the open. I felt cautious.

But the truth is, I want to be figured out. We all do. How, when, who, why, where, I'll leave it all to Eventually. Because eventually, all of our surfaces will crack open and fall apart. And I have come to realize that there is absolutely nothing wrong with it.

"I will tell you my stories on a breezy day
so they can float away with the wind
But let me first craft the words and ways
so they won't brush against your skin"

What have we found? The same old fears.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 14:32:00 +0000

Farish Daniel, August 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 13:19:00 +0000

Now this my friends, is an oxymoron.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 16:01:00 +0000

Digital Polaroids - click here to join in the fun.

Alor Setar, July 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 18:05:00 +0000

Westminster, June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 17:42:00 +0000

taken by Kikie Ismail

Kensington Gardens, June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 05:30:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 16:02:00 +0000

So I am left with no digital camera for about a month, at least that was what the people at my local camera shop had promised. So what do you reckon I do in the mean time? Write? That would be a good idea, however personally I would rather have a rendezvous with friends and acquaintances to share all the comings and goings, and opinions on current issues and the not-so-current ones.

But knowing myself, I would probably have a new update every day anyway, what with all the old pictures that I have not yet had the chance to post up, and all the beautiful music on YouTube that I have not yet had the chance to embed.

So don't panic. I am not going anywhere.

Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced, another sun-soaked season fades away.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 04:40:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 06:03:00 +0000

Yesterday over lunch my father toppled a glass of iced lemon tea all over my pants, before knocking his cutlery off the dining table.

Today I slashed a glass of water off my dressing table with my bathing towel. The glass hit me on my left foot, and now I am just staring at the post-bleeding mark.

All unintentional. All accidents.

Responding to @kikieIsmail's tweet, "Let's pray that you don't fall sick again this Ramadhan. Selamat berpuasa cece!"

Let's hope your prayer is answered. Because I am prone to accidents and infections. It's hereditary. Selamat berpuasa.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 16:12:00 +0000

I am going on a break, because my digital friend is broken into pieces.

Break and broken.

How did it get broken?

I dropped it.

Just like how I dropped those chicken bones on the floor, that calculator into the drain, and that glass of water onto your pants, I just drop things.

My inelegance is no longer comical. I need help.

Summer 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 06:09:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 07:13:00 +0000

I will tell you my stories on a breezy day
so they can float away with the wind
But let me first craft the words and ways
so you won't feel them brush against your skin.

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 06:55:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Amira Shamsuddin) — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 06:35:00 +0000