This is about the government officer I met this week for a few hours' briefing on something. He looked like someone who should have a story written about him. He did.

She hears from him again today after the death of a dictator, the forced closure of a spa centre and the discovery of error in a particle physics experiment. Between now and his last text, a country was set free, a community was deprived of fish spa and Einstein’s relativity lived on; the world has changed.

Those two days. Spanned eons.

She wonders if his texting her is a compensation for his having broken the social inertia, or if he really means to reach her.

Al-fatihah.

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.

Bila perasaan yang bukan milikku semakin jauh dari gapaian. Dan malam bergelapkan diam yang asyik dan legam. Jasad dan jejaknya tertaut dekat, tetapi aku tak buta saat melihat pandangannya. Nyata apa yang dilihatnya bukan apa dilihatku.

Khabar ini benar; bukan aku yang buta, cuma sendiri membutakan. Aku bukan tuli, tetapi aku yang mendiamkan. Aku tak bisu, namun aku yang mengkuburkan.

Tunjukilah kami jalan yang lurus; tunjukilah kami jalan yang lurus; tunjukkanlah kami jalan yang lurus.

Science tells us we've been here for at least 13.7 billion years. That's more than twice the number of human population on earth.

2 years per person.

On Studying Medicine

It’s funny how hard we are working to understand how our body works. How hard we are at trying to comprehend the complex system which is at the same time so innate in its most literal sense. It’s almost as though our conscious human mind and functioning physiological body are two separate entities. We are just our frontal + parietal lobes trying to understand the rest of us - and the thought makes one feel somewhat lonely. We are so well clothed by the dead cells that are our skin that the only thing we own that is adequately exposed to the outside world is our sense of perception - and the only thing mine wants is to explore my own innards - my insides looking in and failing - like trying to squint my eyes focusing on an object placed within too close a distance

Q

His manners, though not outrightly rude, were still at moments glaringly unpolished. It was not this, however that hindered her regard - it was those fleeting but not insignificant instances when she caught his gaze - itself darkened like a mixture of affection with something more sinister, insatiable and perhaps even voracious - that made her uncomfortable. Sometimes she feels too the radiating hatred that accompanies this gaze prickling the back of her neck - as if he blames her for his unrequited attachment.

Once I had a bestfriend who loved me too much, and while since then he was most envious of my indifference, I was the one who should be more jealous of him.

To love (almost) unconditionally, and to know. To accept.

On our current predicament

I have friends and relatives in Egypt.

& I know I’m being ungrateful, or even selfish, but there’s this part of me that’s (perhaps inappropriately) envious. Especially given the current circumstance.

I wanna live on the edge. Where you risk losing everything and nothing at the same time. I want to soak in the exhilaration. Flirt with death and relish the temporary self-proclaimed anarchy. To scream along to burning vehicles. To feel nothing and everything. To hold hands in protest. To see things people sing about taking place right in front of me. To be part of history.

Save lives. Be saved myself.

I need to believe there is still hope and where else is best to find it but the very place where all hope is seemingly lost?

I want to go to a place at war.

(I must be going mental)

I want to contribute a voice, a service. I just, want to be there.

Most of all, I need a feeling. I need something to fight for.