ABout   ;

Darah. 15. Malaysia. Welcome & Enjoy.

For my whole life I have only woke up crying twice. Once, a few months ago. The other, yesterday.

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The first time, I woke up crying, trembling and literally feel like shit. I was in a middle eastern country in war, caught and to be sent to a concentration camp, I escaped. It was hard to describe, but boy was it horrible. Fuck war.

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Yesterday, not as horrible as the first, but still killed me a little inside. Three of my considered best friends were going to move out of my school. Them being Preets, H, and Aisyah. Preets (who sat with me for three years) is like the best listener in the world and can makes you feel real smart, one time she asked me (I’m not kidding) what internet is shaped like. H (sat with me for two years) is one of those Malay girls I can always talk with. And Aisyah (sat behind me since March) is like the total sweetheart, fun to talk to, and really is the reason that makes me go to school everyday. I was a little too sad on the Friday she skipped school. In the dream she’s moving to a public school in Milwaukee, I still don’t understand why Milwaukee is chosen though. 

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This week I’ll be getting a lil’ bit busier than usual because the entire New Yorker online archives are free for this summer (yay!). In case you don’t know, here’s the link to the announcement. 

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"Beginning this week, absolutely everything new that we publish—the work in the print magazine and the work published online only—will be unlocked. All of it, for everyone. Call it a summer-long free-for-all. Non-subscribers will get a chance to explore The New Yorker fully and freely, just as subscribers always have. Then, in the fall, we move to a second phase, implementing an easier-to-use, logical, metered paywall. Subscribers will continue to have access to everything; non-subscribers will be able to read a limited number of pieces—and then it’s up to them to subscribe. " - The New Yorker

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Time to put off my Pocket saved articles aside and explore the New Yorker’s archives! 

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And here’s another link to one of my favorite comics! Tips: Be prepared, it’s not a humor comic! 

Realm of Jargen Harbinberge, commonly known as Jargen Harbinberge or the JH, is a country located in Western Europe. More specific, south-west of the UK, west of France, and north-west of Spain. At 21,768 square miles with a population of 11.8 million, 70.4% of whom are Jargians, 12.5% French, 8.7% Dutch, 2.3% English and 6.1% others, Jargen Harbinberge gained independence in 1757 from the Netherlands. Despite English is the native language of many Jargians, Jargk remains the official language of the country. Jargen Harbinberge became a member of the European Union in 1983, maintaining certain opt-outs, it retains its own currency, the gaius (JHG). In 2013, the country has a total GDP (PPP) of $434.5 billion, $38,826 per capita. Jargen Harbinberge is one of the world’s leading country in hydroelectricity, with 74% of the nation’s total primary energy consumption depends on it. Natural resources of the country includes natural gas, petroleum, diamonds, hydropower, fish and gold. Significant investment has been made in the public transport sector, making Jargen Harbinberge the country with the most solid bicycle infrastructure. Continuous attempt of the government to decrease the use of private vehicles has made Jargen Harbinberge the country with the least car ownership among developed countries. As of 2012, the Ministry of Transportation makes an estimation of 327 cars per 1000 Jargians. Jargen Harbinberge has a typical Western European oceanic climate. Summer days are usually moderately warm and pleasant with average temperatures hovering between 17 and 25°C. In winter, the amount of sunshine is not greatly reduced and the average temperatures hovers between 8 to 15°C. 

Sorry for not posting lately, I’ve been busy and this week couldn’t be busier. The team at JARG Valley has been working hard for our new issue, we are having a big transition here with a cleaner look and a more specific target age group of readers. We’ve been proofreading the articles again and again we can lecture them out loud without even peeking and we’ve been searching for materials of better quality for the new issue. New logos are ready as well, yay! We had a hard time deciding which font to use for Valley because we loved both OCR A Extended and Lato so much and so we decided that OCR A Extended will be used on web and Lato in print, which is great. 

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Testing the logo. 

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Looks great, ain’t it? A lot more better than our old logo:

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Many people asked the team the reason behind changing Caper Cod to JARG Valley. I get this a lot, too. Very simple, we think that if people goggle the term Caper Cod, usually they get results of Cape Cod, and that confused a hell lot of people because they thought we spelled it wrong or something. And so we changed. I look forward very much for how our readers react when receiving their new copy, I hope they like it. 

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There’s so much to do lately, I have to:

  • keep myself very involved in JARG Valley,
  • walk Jingles and Booyah
  • go to school and extra classes (phew) 
  • learn and practice HTML
  • learn and practice French
  • start learning Python 
  • learn and practice guitar
  • revision for final
  • ???

I’ve been considering maybe I should put my learning of French on a halt. Maybe I really should. Hmm. Vocabularies learned so hard are fading away and I don’t know what to do. What the fuck does aller vous means? I just learned it last week! My guitar skills is making their way out of me as well. My life is literally full of shits and fucks right now. Urgh.

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Monday was Geraldine’s birthday and I gave her Roald Dahl’s The Twit because I think it would be fun for her to read a children book. It wrote For Emma in the introduction so I crossed it out and wrote:

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For Emma, Geraldine.

"We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways,

but you still have to call it a birthday.” 

-Birthday, by Andrea Gibson.

I know we’re not best friends but you still get a birthday present because you’re a good gurl and I’m a good gurl and because I am nice like that. May the best of your past be the worst of your future. Happy Birthday. 

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I hope she likes it as much she liked the Hakuna Matata poster I painted for her for her 13th birthday which, according to her and confirmed by Albreda, is now hanging on her bedroom wall.

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At the same time, school life has been AMAZING. I laughed a lot more now sitting beside H. But it’s not her that made me feel better everyday, it’s Pritinah (who sat right across the aisle beside me)  and Aisyah (behind me) and Anis (in front). We’re not each others’ best friend, in fact the three of them rarely talk to each other, but sometimes it’s the tiniest character in your life that turns out to be your greatest joy. It’s just pure joy, talking with them and laughing along like morons. I loved making them laugh and they loved making me laugh. I tried speaking Bahasa Baku with them the other day and we cannot stop laughing at it the whole day. Chemistry have been fun too because we had a lot of experiments (two last week) and Susaan would tell everyone that our group succeeded the experiment and fake-clap and fake-cheer when we were only just pouring around acids and didn’t actually run the experiment. 

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We’re just a group of fucked up kids with our greatest achievement being getting straight As in the PMR. And we know damn well how fucked up our exam results will be for this year. And we prayed hard that those who’ve seen us at our best and seen us at our worst and can’t tell the difference. 

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Goodbye. And have a good day.

“This plan has to work out somehow.” I said to myself, staring at my reflection before me. Carole was waiting for me in the car while I observed my horrid pale reflection at the washroom mirror. I was absolutely ashamed of myself for having to throw up after riding the merry-go-round. I was too dizzy to drive, thus forcing Carole to drive us home. She was not upset about it though, despite my running of her birthday trip and all. She never held it against me. Instead, she laughed at how sick I looked before sincerely thanking me for that outing.


She asked me about the ways of operating my car as she was not familiar with it and I swept my dizziness away as I was explaining.


“Okay, one last question.” She has obviously noticed I was going to throw up anytime sooner if she do not let me go.


“Just promise me that you will say ‘yes’ to what I am about to ask you.” She grinned slightly. Carole always does this, forcing everything to go her way.


“Your one last question is permitted! And you shall permit a question from me as soon as yours is answered.” I said, in response, thinking that it might be the right time to work this plan out. She shifted slightly, turning away for a bit as though she was embarrassed about something. Then, she wholeheartedly asked,


“Will you marry me?”


Hearing those words certainly caught me by surprise before I realize that both Carole and I had had the same plan all along; to propose.

A famous international model was once asked if there are highly intelligent models in the industry. She said she’ve met a few, “then again there are a bunch of fucking morons in the industry as well”, she continued.

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I thought about the statement last night before I slept and literally broke into unstoppable laughter. Models are always stereotyped as smart, well-mannered, soft-spoken, etc. I get quite sad at times looking at them (while mouthing “we’re gonna bang!” at the computer screen). Somehow it really soothes me thinking about how some of those pretty show girls walking down the runway are “fucking morons”. Like, imagine a reaaally sweet and gorgeous girl from your class failed a test when everyone got an A+. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but it really makes you feel good when you break the perfect image. But the feeling of low self-esteem comes back again the next time you look at them.