I give u reasons why if u get any chance to study overseas, take a pre-oversea programme, u shud grab the chance. I will tell you because I dream of it so direly and didn't get the chance. Not even looked at, even though I have put much efforts in my entire school years to get access to a wider-horizon of education. My heart is broken into pieces. I am broken into pieces.
I decide to put my agony to an end by writing some pieces of my mind before, as you know, I enroll into my first degree. Now, before some people decided to get against me like I should stop complaining my misery when other people is more miserable and even those people who are en routed in their overseas educational journey are also having terrible life even far worse than me, or that stop jealousing, or dont regret your destined fate, or that they are more unfortunate people that I am, or oh, u r so grumpy. Indeed I am because everyone keeps pushing to shell my feeling inside when I never stop wiping my tears for more than a year and half from the date at the corner of the room. And this one moment, just this one moment I decide to give all out of what I am not satisfied about because this disastrous feeling shud have been erased from anyone's heart or mind. It is, a parasite. I myself won't bear having to know or see people with this feeling. I will directly sympathise anyone that has to abandon their dreams (no, not because I am kind or baik but simply that I damn know how bad it feels).
I go down the memory lane and realise all the hopes and dreams that I built but never been able to realised it. With dreams all ashing, I wake up, I walk, I think, I read, I write, I cry, all done by not being the same person.
And there was this one period of my time when I was introduced to a bunch of great people with such a variety of individuality. It was a big time to be meeting them and even great that we still keep in touch, like everyday, literally. But my misery intensed up when I was to get to know this big-headed guy who with his ability to speak (or more to write) eloquently keep critically commenting on my practises/thoughts/writing/
(He will like me writing about him here because he is basically proud with everything that he does so don't worry about how he will perceive this. If he is not that sort of people I wouldn't write it here at the first place.)
But there's more to it than seeing the person (which we still value him as a person who will be wise and great at literature) for a year or almost. This heck of life has also something to do with having close friends in kmb to keep updating me of what is it feel to be there. I like the struggle, I like the hecticness, I like the play, I like the bunch of works assignments projects that they get. Not entirely because I like the tedious schedule by itself, but because the subjects range is not fully specified like one I had in asasi sains programme in which I only get to learn sciences (even though extensive) while they get to learn extra subjects like economy, literature, languages, a little bit of philosophy, etc. So it is like a compensated education to what I dont get to learn in high school, and to knowing people that I don't get to meet before. And to get mess up in such a jumble of wonderful work is an experience we don't get in a non-world-class educational institution (mind you I don't get easily impressionable by the 'world-class' title only by reading an ib promo in its website).
I know that this is such a vanity to be feeling all this, to not be grateful for whatever I have which is by many degrees are very fortunate, and even worse I am to be writing it down here. But not all stories are here, we don't call it a personal journey if we tell everyone everything eh? I try being grateful for what I have and whatnot but it is not as easy because what have stroke me is beyond my own capability to what I understood by Allah's mercy. It is too far-fetched to say that, because indeed I realise it is very very wrong to say one since He must have kept the fortune of every of His slave somewhere they don't expect. I know I'm too rushing to materialise my dream (which is almost no much longer my dream anymore) when Allah knows that it is not the best yet.
thus therefore by writing all this in a blog and publishing it, not wanting to keep into myself anymore (judge me as much as you needed but I am in dire need to end this miserable feeling.)
I rest my case.
And, I rest everyyyyyyyy of this agony from inhibiting my emotion and my mind. Period.