My Escape

Torn down and broken Lies the ragdoll Of a haunted childhood As we reminisce In our miserable past Ripped of the future That was once so precious In those golden years When we were oblivious To the cruel unforgiving world Leaving behind our innocense As we grow older Evolving into greedy Materialistic human beings So keen to gain the upper hand In this place we call home Spreading hate and lies While we degrade the people That we think are below us Tearing down our bretheren Who we consider our competition Only to not feel satifaction Yet the urge for something more The thirst that can never be quenched Out for more blood What happened to the dream Of world peace Which use to trump The urge for world domination Now the world has come to The powerhungry and The innocent fighting for A place in this society

Violence, gore and inspirational are the words that I would use to describe the movie that is Hacksaw Ridge. The film is directed by the great Mel Gibson, director of films such as Braveheart and Apocalypto. Based on a true story, the film is set in World War Ⅱ at the battle of Okinawa. The movie centres around Desmond Doss, the first conscientious objector to be awarded the Medal of Honour. The scene is set in the middle of a battlefield with dead bodies littering the ground mutilated, and American soldiers fighting with the Japanese. Desmond Doss is set on a stretcher being carried back to safety while his commander says encouraging words reassuring him that he will be okay.  The first scene in itself may be triggering to some because of the bloodshed and the graphic depiction of dead bodies in a war zone. The scene shifts and a lighter tune is in the air. We are transported to the Virginian countryside where Gibson paints a serene atmosphere. An almost paradise where Desmond...

I am not one to put my feelings down directly on paper; however, if I were to write out something so personal, it would usually be in some sort of abstract poem or an adapted story. So, writing this entry is extremely challenging for me. In life, I love you followed by hugs and kisses delivered by me to my mother and vice versa are a common thing. Therefore, the problem with me writing this isn’t about the way I choose to be affectionate, rather it’s about how emotional and personal words become to me after being written down. So here goes nothing. My mother’s name is Maziah bt. Abu Zarin. She was born and raised in Kuala Pilah until she moved to Kuala Lumpur Where she started working, and where she met my dad. She is the 4 th child in her family of 8 siblings and a mother to two daughters. At home, she has many names, all of which have the same meaning: mak madre, mommy, mom and mother. She is tall and slender with dark brown irises and smile lines around her eyes and mouth. Her ...

HAPPY READING!    My memories are now only bittersweet reminders of you. I still remember how you got to me. How you saved me. Our first meeting was nothing like a romantic love at first sight cliché. You were anything other than the bad boy and I was just me. I first saw you at the park where I sat on a bench watching you stare at the dry concrete wall while I wallowed in my own self-pity. The routine repeated day after day until I got there too late and my bench was occupied. At first I sat there retreating into the corner of my mind only to be abruptly pulled out by the blabber mouth that sat next me. He talked to me as if he was my friend. It was as if he knew me. He even asked me out. Instead of responding, I stood up only to head to the dry wall setting myself next to you. I now wonder if I should have taken the man's offer. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't be here now heartbroken and beating myself up for it. I had no idea of what came over me that day. Staring at the bare...

Soft on the outside yet a raging tiger within is a way I would describe the feisty felines known as cats. Much like myself, the exterior of a cat is approachable and gentle but once you have angered it, its claws come out and you a whole different side to them. Cats are also very protective  of their families. As an example, if you were to take a kitten from its mother, the mother would most likely attack you or at least  meow at the top of its lungs. I would like to think that I am as protective of the people I love. In the case that a loved one is attacked whether emotionally or physically I would stand up for them. In new environments, cats tend to be closed off until they have fully adapted to their surroundings. When comfortable, they are frisky and playful as can be. In life, I tend to need some space to accept the changes that invade my life and tend to ease myself into new situations however long it takes to become truly comfortable with the conditions of my li...

I wonder what it feels like to be fearless to live a life of risks and chances to feel confident in every single choice to understand what you truly feel I seem to fear the simplest things in life to question the outcomes of every decision whether to raise my hand in class to an answer that is possibly right but pass the chance in fear that it is wrong to fear the products of each resolution I wonder what it feels like to be fearless

Writing is a way of expression a form of art that conveys emotion to some it is a waste of time but to others a breath of life The way the pen seamlessly glides on the paper as words come spluttering out one by one Not a day goes by where the urge to write like an addictive drug calls to you The longer you wait the harder it is to breathe as words seem to clog up your mind suffocating you under ideas not expelled on paper building until the pen touches the page and you realize you have nothing to say