Eleven Things I Learned From Eleven Years of School.

1. You might not be the same person you were this time last year, but it is fine. People change, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. If you don't allow change to happen in your life, you will suffer the consequence of never growing as a human being.

2. Sometimes relationships with others don't work out because life happens. And that is perfectly okay. People grow, and people grow apart. 

3. Affection and love from another isn't everything you need in life right now. Don't be fooled, you probably don't even need it at all. Recognize the difference between love and lust. But you probably don't even know.

4. Be kind to your teachers. No matter how low your view of them, success will not be strived without their blessings.

5. Talk to the girl whom nobody likes. Believe that people are so much more than what meets the eye. The surface of the skin only tells you so little until you actually reach the bones. You'd be surprised.

6. It is difficult balancing a life of school and a life outside of it, but it is certainly not impossible. You are capable of things you aren't even aware of yet. If others can, why can't you? Reach for the stars but keep your feet on earth.

7. What happens to you, is probably the best for you. Nothing is coincidental. Everything happens for a reason and at some point you will grow to believe so.

8. You may come to a realization at a point in your life that your bestfriend, might not really be your best friend. 

9. A bump in the road does not effect a whole journey. How will you ever recognize sweetness if you've never tasted bitter. If you don't try to live, how will you ever experience and feel? Things will only start to happen when you step out of your comfort zone.

10. Bad experiences means life lessons. Carry them with you. Don't regret doing it, regret if you know it's absurd yet you do it again.

11. Grades are not an intellectual measurement of yourself but that is not an excuse to throw your life away and think it's fine. Lazy people make excuses, to avoid the feel of guilt.

Nevertheless, thank you for eleven great years.

Last, But Never Least.

As I come here often to write about no other than myself. Dragging you with pointless groups of alphabets, stories that only some makes sense to the mind and about no other than my mediocre, narcissists self. But today I sit down here with hot coffee, my face against the LEDs, to write about another. My dad.

My dad, my father, my hero, my saviour. Exactly today half a century ago you were brought out into this world. And for whatever purpose it served one of them being lead to you, becoming a father, to me. And there is honestly no better job you do than it. 

You often remind me that I don't know how it feels because I don't have kids of my own to worry upon. And I wouldn't know until I had some of my own. That's where you are wrong. I do know how it feels. I know how your palms sweat every time you see your daughter setting herself at the outside world of cruelty you think she is not already aware of. Because you know the kind of people out there and you know what they are capable of doing to her. You don't want her to be familiar with the bitterness you have tasted, and the taste lingers at the tip of your tongue. I know your body shivers every time you think of your once little, pure princess overgrowing her tiaras and glitter skirts replacing them with eyeliner and ripped jeans. You want the world to see her as how you do. But unfortunately, that often differs.

Because I do, I do. And I think about it at least once a day. Being a dad isn't all a simple task but you ace at it. Although I don't give you much credit for, because you deserve the world, I am aware of all you have done for me and they are infinite. 

And I too often remind you that it is okay. People grow and I was bound to outgrow your lap one day. But I will never outgrow your heart. Your kind, selfless heart. I will never let a day go by without trying to make you proud of your only daughter. I may have not been the best portray of it but I can promise you, I will never stop avidly trying. You tell me you are growing old and you fear that. I cannot imagine the day I will not see you at sight on the daily anymore. I refuse to live a life like that but that choice is not mine to make. It is His. And I hope Allah S.W.T allows many more years of you because when your fear is leaving, mine is being left.

You put me ahead of yourself. I will never understand that big of an act of selflessness, and I will live my life everyday trying to strive it.

Everyday you are special, but today, you get a blog post.

Happy birthday dad.

Horizons That Differ.

Gloomy evening, 4.51pm on a Monday, I hate this feeling. No, I despise it. Despise is a strong word and it is the perfect description for my feelings. The feel of guilt and constant glances at my watch. I can never seat with ease these days. I'm always filled with this feeling of uneasiness and a sense of deep regret. 

The number to my exam is getting to a lesser digit after each day that passes by. And I am here. Not doing anything about it, but filled to the core with guilt and constant regret. Which is the worst kind of "being here". I am two months away and three months to being done with. I cannot wait to the days I finally wake up actually looking forward to what's ahead. But for now, I wake up knowing that what lies ahead would be nothing else rather than textbooks and classes and textbooks and classes. And if it wasn't, I will go through the rest of the day with a mind off. The grass isn't looking too green at this side anymore. More like, a sad, wilted, brown.

The only thing that's been keeping me at sane ground is a person I know and my computer. Which is also the same reason why I am insane. I always feel so inane. And I feel like there isn't much I can do about but to only depend on time to brush it off, which is worse than actually being inane. I know this feeling is only temporary but temporary is taking it's sweet, sweet time. God dammit. I have so, so much to look forward to in three months time. So much planned. So many adventures. Appears to be promising before it actually happens but then it's all long days at home in bathrobes drinking bad coffee. But I like to be hopeful. And to be frank I'd much rather have the worst of those days than the best of these. I am on a constant crave for adventures and excitement. But for now, my insides needs be tamed. 

Something Vague We Are Not Seeing.

I think you have found satisfaction in life when you are alone at 3AM and instead of staring at the bedroom walls with gloomy eyes you are looking through the wet window glass with a hot drink, smiling. And you go to bed looking forward to tomorrow day. Love isn't necessarily needed. There is someone out there for everyone, but for now, you don't look for love. It looks for you. Often we are too caught up with the need of wanting to search for it. Forcing it down each other's throats. I think the best advice I have ever given anyone is, "I feel sorry for people who think that the only way they will ever achieve self satisfaction is when they find a spouse. Or at least, think they have. You don't. It isn't the only way out of your shitty, mediocre life."

Love. Throughout the ages of since I discovered what it was up about until the end of my sixteen years of age, I had always been sceptical about the idea of it. The whole idea of love. I have lived my life, swore to myself that I will never let anyone break down the walls I had built around my insides. I will never let anyone effect me. Not too deep to reach in the vulnerability. So I have lived my life everyday, not believing that love could exist. For me at least. I used to think that people who think they're in love are fooling themselves. I addressed that majority bunch as fools. You're young and naive. You don't know what love is. Until one day,

Unexpectedly, love found me. And everything changed.

However situations changed. People grow up and they grow apart. You lose some, you gain some, you learn truth and harshness in the brutality of the real life and today, I would say it is an illusion. It doesn't exist. The idea of love was planted into the human brain as an illusion to make ourselves feel better with the feeling of what is actually only lust. And people needed to start realizing. The whole idea of love has never really existed within me until I finally grew seventeen. And I had known and learn about it's existence through a manner I would not have preferred, cruelty.

They say life is unfair. I stand against it, life is fair. You just haven't experienced the beauty of it. I strongly believe everything happens for a reason. Throughout my life I have carried that lesson with me to make crucial situations more or less, slightly bearable. Life isn't what they claim it as to be unfair instead life is this inconsistent journey of losing some and gaining some. At times you lose something good only to gain something great, sometimes plans don't go as initially for even better things to happen. For your own good. But you don't know that yet. Instead the majority bunch, which is you, stay in grief and build walls around you. Refusing anyone to let them be broken down. People are too often more focused on the lacks more than the haves. Too busy they are chasing down a certain road to happiness thinking that it's the only way to achieve it, they often lose grip on their surroundings. On what truly matters.

Learn to love yourself and who you are before you do on another.

It gets better. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or the next day. But it eventually will. And if it hasn't, it isn't the end yet. Your life is a constant battle. On some days, your plastered smile never find its way to leave your face whereas sometimes, you feel as if the whole word is against you. However, you keep battling.

But god, love surely is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

The Confession.

I'm Elissa Rosli and I have been experiencing a serious case of writer's block. Not that I would ever qualify myself as a real writer however. It's not the lack of ideas or thoughts but instead it's the too much of ideas and thoughts all anticipatingly waiting to be blurted out through the tips of my fingers touching an electronic board of alphabets. I have been writing alright. All. The. Time. The only problem with it is, my too many ideas comes off as much as vomit -horrible choice of description- all out and I get a rush through my fingers -like having my fingers consume caffeine- and then all of a sudden, it stops. So for over a year now, I have been writing short paragraphs of rather interesting and profound things captured throughout this journey called my life. My inconsistent, roller coaster, life. But as good as they are, they are left inside my drafts for the eyes of none to see. I am a big perfectionist unfortunately. Everything I do, I pour my heart into, I expect perfect outcomes. Like blogs posts, I expect with every "publish" button I press, perfection is written. I start doubting those hundreds of short paragraphs and think it wouldn't be worthy enough to be published on this electronic diary of mismatched feelings. In which a minority of people, oddly, seems to be enjoying themselves with. Thank you for reading my much abandoned blog. 

When I started this blog, I did not expect attention on it. Nor did I ever wished for any. I was just a bored thirteen year old with too much free time on her plate. Well of course, back then it was a nightmare. Now look at how far it's came. It's overwhelming to see the number of views I receive here. To be aware of the amount of people that reads. My intention when I write here is never, not ever, to impress any form of living thing or to promote myself. The topic of me owning an electronic diary is never brought up in any exchange of words between me and other people. I never tweet, text, whatsapp, tumblr about it. I just leave a link to it on my twitter biodata and the magic flows by itself. For someone who barely writes on it, never promotes it and is terrible at updating it, I think I have made quite an achievement with it. It's scary to think that so many people out there, people I am sadly not aware of, read my miscellaneous and messed up thoughts. Or whatever it is that is up there. 

As Cold As Her Soul.

Fourteen things my mother thought to carry with me forever:

1. Always be your own hero. Do not depend on anyone ever to be your savior. 

2. You are capable of so much. Realize and use it wisely.

3. Study hard, get rich, buy your own Chanel.

4. "I was a rascal as a kid, everyone questioned what I would grow up to be. Look at me now." Shows that success comes when you truly strive for it. Doesn't matter where you came from or what you used to be.

5. Love later and love hard when you do. There is someone out there for everyone. But for now, prioritize on what's truly important for your own good.

6. Never forget to be kind. Have the heart of gold and when you do, it will shine through.

7. Do not pick fights with people who are lower than you. They already are not on your standards, just smile and take it in.

8. You will never be happy if you don't find the value in things, even when you have everything. 

9. Always save. Dark days come when you least expect it to. And when it does, make sure you are not empty handed.

10. Hypocrites are the worst kind of people. Never be one.

11. Wherever you might be in the world, never forget the ones who brought you there.

12. Being intelligent is one thing, but being hard working is what truly succeeds you.

13. Sometimes being bad is the only way to be good. Sometimes.

14. Be the better person. Be kind to everyone. Even to that annoying girl next door, or to that rude cashier. You will feel better about yourself and, you never know when you might need them.

Happy Mother's Day.