Pouting. Hating.

Holidays will end soon. I hate work. ah. Not only work. I nearly hate everything. I don't know why. I hate myself, not literaly, but more likely: unsatisfied. I think abi hates me too now. There were nice dreams of him after he passed away, but in the strong dreams, he often pouted. First, not long after he died, when he was picked buy his mosque-mates to go to the mosque (for maghrib prayer). He pouted seeing me lingering not having purpose in someone's house, I said not to wait for me, I was still playing around. He went with his friends without looking back at me. Still pouting. Second, he came. Standing infront of our front door with sad and pouty face at 03.30 a.m. He always wanted I prayed tahajjud. I never did as he wanted because he always asked me to, not by taking my hands to do it with him. I didn't like it, I could not make my self strong with that way. Wallahi, now I meet dead-end. I am like having no visions of future. I am stuck of being and doing nothing. What I have to do is back to Allah. I will strenghthen myself to do tahajjud insha Allah. For Allah to love me, help me, forgive me.

These All were Actually My Dreams

These all were actually my dreams, God has made them coming true. In better versions, really. Wallahi. And why am I complaining? Do you wanna know what I "dreamt" about? Mostly careless dreams, derived by my negative or melancolic thoughts. Feeling lost, like in Enya's songs. My adventure soul was on fire. Feeling lonely and being alone. Easy, just see this blogspot's title. I made it a long time ago. Marriage, even only for a short time, or only for a status. I thought being a spinster was worse. Bitter sweet love, separated by death. So pretty in movies. Being an eccentric, un-aged, living alone grand-aunty. I wrote it in my short story, I thought the character was cool. Being a junior high teacher. I always loved the films about this profession. And other. A lot more. Ever since I still have my breath, there are many dreams await to come true. I just have to set them right and never again having negative melancoly ones. I should remember this.

The Future. The Dream.

Yesterday, I saw a very beautiful afternoon sky. The beauty that was hard for me to dive now. I knew it's pretty, but my heart was still empty. I asked myself why, why my heart was so dimmed, so dry. After some thoughts, I realized, it was because I lost my dreams of future. I didn't have things to chase. I didn't want the future. As if I wanted the time just stopped here and now. No wonder that my days become just counting down. Or even not counting anymore. Nothing matters, nothing is precious. No more. I should worry about this.