Date Range
Date Range
Date Range
I draw each thread closed, wounds bending into caricature. I gather the corners, these four white walls a shroud.
Friday, May 15, 2015. Di air telaga melompat menari. Di air telaga melompat menari. Ikan kalui dan si ikan toman. Berkelahi dengan rakan dan taulan. Ikan kalui dan si ikan toman. Turun bermain si anak naga. Berkelahi dengan rakan dan taulan. Saturday, June 7, 2014. Ialah satu novel hasil karya ninotaziz yang menjangkau.
I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. If I could turn back the clock. Frozen in time, but never undone. Spoken in haste, and forever hanging. In that space between the dimension. Through the tunnels of time. There is love that is overwhelming. It is not emptiness that remain. But bittersweet pain, the deep loss that knows. What will never be replaced.
Purple Journal In My Mahogany Desk. Life with my soulmate, Rudi and little angels, Iman, Inas, Irani, Ilena and Ikesha. Sunday, July 31, 2011. It seems when I really think about it, I am quite a juggler of sorts. Oh, when it comes to juggling three lemons and two oranges, Rudy does it best. But let me recap July. We sent Iman home to Banting and I braced myself for a hectic weekend. Now we are preparing for Ramadhan.
Monday, November 21, 2011. Our past has a rich legacy of legends. Based on fact and fantasy, these epics have shaped. Our culture, perceptions and ideologies. Though mythical, our legends are unshakeable. Neither can one dismiss them, for they represent the earliest. Records and thoughts of our people from the classical Malay literature, the wayang kulit and various dance theatres and and the storytellers of old.
Just past midlife, exploring radical faith, trying to be as honest as I can about the things that matter. Justice, good food, learning, mercy, biking, faith, hot soup and bread, integrity, watching people grow and change, knitting with natural fibers, sunflowers in September. Thursday, August 13, 2015. Rambling thoughts on time, loss, memory, and being present. I also love remembering my grandparents every time I walk past the door of that room. We talk so often about how we over value our possess.
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