The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Barre None

I just feel sad sometimes because after fifteen years, I still don't know the meaning of friendship.

I'm writing my Nanowrimo story right now and this year, I chose to do something different that turned out to be both more fruitful and more difficult than I had previously thought. Like I said, epistolary fiction. It's not... entirely epistolary because I just couldn't bring myself to not include little bits and pieces from people's lives outside of the documents. So far I've got something like seven thousand words, which is astounding and makes me happy to think about and I'm going to try so, so, so hard to get this over and done with as quickly as possible (before camp, pray) because after that, I just want to edit the shit out of it.

I'm going through a bit of a phase in which I reread old text messages and kind of cry a little. If you want, if everyone wants, I'll always admit to being the one who screws up. Like that time with Farhana. As if I got to keep any of "our" friends. She won that custody battle and it wasn't even a battle at all. I was the one who said, "All right, have it. I'll go and find someone else." Like that time with Maze, when we both knew it wasn't the healthiest of friendships and I was the one who caved in and let it go. Told him it was fine for him to do whatever he wanted and he not only had my blessing, he had my apology as well. Like that time with Hanna and Nisa. I know what I said about them and I know that I was at fault for saying those things. But of course I didn't hear an apology as to the way they treated me. And if I hadn't stepped up, if I hadn't come forward, really, the situation would have just stayed that way until forever.

And the thing with Nadiah. The thing with Nadiah is not about winning or losing or who started it or who's supposed to end it. The thing is, is that I always have to... move, if that makes any sense. No, I know that I'm being dramatic and Nadiah is not a vengeful type of person, therefore, it would be so easy to fix things up with her. I know that. Doesn't make it hurt any less that I feel like I have this obligation to. 

Why can't I just stay still? Why can't it be someone else coming up to me and putting forth the effort? Why did I make five mix CDs this year as apology presents to other people, my supposed friends? 

I just don't really understand how you could wake up and not want to be a part of someone's life anymore.

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