2.Proverbial Weekend

As I was cataloging each and every detail of parchment stained with at least a scribble or two, I easily lost all my animosity towards the overwhelming redundancy. My files are over stacked and I realised that I have wasted so much time writing the same thing but yet failed to memorise what is worth knowing.

As I was busy ignoring (and minding at the same time) the piles of papers that grew taller, I decided to snap a photographic memoir of how messy a right-brained like myself can be.
(WARNING: This is a non-specific post)



I admire my board when it is gloriously posted with numerous invitations and cards. I have an exam paper there as well











I try to read as much as non-medical books as possible




















Breakfast bowl still in the same location






I found an old picture of my house. This is my house












This is my favourite corner in my room and that's me!

I think this would be my first official entry. Partly because I have Twitter (@farizalisz), kinda makes me automatically report every single eventful/uneventful agendas that occurred rather than personally pouring out my feelings here. (secretly blaming Twitter)

Anyway, my main issue tonight is; basically my current concern is: does life become even more uncertain every waking day? I must admit that I can be spontaneous when I want to but I am comfortable with the fact that, some things in life are as certain as the rising sun and moon.

The thing that triggered my raise of eyebrow on a particular matter is; well honestly I am scared. Darn right, scared like a scardy cat. Not coward on the contrary but just purely uncomfortable with the unknown result to a certain action.
For example: (metaphorically speaking)

I am planning to go to Paris; the city of love. I have booked my flight and arranged for a place to stay. In my diary, I have happily planned to visit the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame & stop by Arc de triomphe on Champs Elysées. For a complete satisfaction of the trip, I have managed to force myself to pick up French and studied the culture for quite a bit. And I did this a year ahead from the point of the real visit. (Yes, very diligent, please continue)

Finally the long awaited day arrived; I boarded my plane & safely departed from Dublin. Unexpectedly when air borne, the pilot announced that we won't be landing in Paris. "There must have been a mistake", I whispered to myself as my heart started to thump out of my pericardium. The pilot continued that the plane has to land in Malaga, Spain for a security reason which I have failed to comprehend.

So moments later, there I was in Malaga. Hardly a native Spanish speaker and certainly deficient in knowledge of the whereabouts of the city. With no place to stay, secretly upset and most importantly scared. What do I do from this point?

Like most days, I would smile away and fret not. Sooner or later, I would discover that Malaga was part of the most important era in Islamic history. After sorting out for a place to shelter my body, I realised that Malaga is just by the sea. How I missed the sea and immediately decided to spend hours strolling with the soothing salty wind in my hair. Later on I discovered about the magnificent Alcazaba fortress & Finca La Concepcion. Malaga wasn't so bad at all, was it? It was difficult at first but I am getting the hang of Spanish culture. At the end of the day, I am happy despite the change. Alhamdulillah
(end of metaphorical story)

I am very much aware of the phrase "We plan but Allah is the best planner of all" and I am very thankful for that because no matter what, there is always a hikmah (silver lining) behind each consequences.
My biggest fear is, will the people around me see things the way I see it; and fret not (like me) momentarily upon arrival in Malaga; and figure things out slowly to make it work?

I am scared that one waking day, a particular persona decided that traveling with me is no longer an enthusiastic experience due to much unwanted inconvenience. My fear lies in, one waking day, the sun doesn't rise at all (na'uzubillah) what do I do from that point onwards?

Not even the taste of sugar sweetens my apple heart
Not even the touch of water dampens my lips
Even slumber doesn't quiets my anxiety

There must be an ending to this temporary despair

I feel trapped in an invisible cage

Exams just ended yesterday and I've been wanting to do this illustrated blog since early this semester.

My handsome Azam has given the heads up and my empty winter holiday is going to be filled with updating these empty blog pages :)

Call me ringo. In Japanese, it means 'apple'.