"...and to Him we return..."

She passed away.
After spending nearly a month in ICU, shut away from her family.

The burns were extremely bad. Nothing was left of her back, legs...
Rest in Peace...
I didn't know you too well, actually I couldn't even remember you, but I do know that when I went to your house you'd take care of me, and love me like your little sister.

All this time I had been thinking, at least I'll know who she is this time I go to visit.
God didn't grant me that wish.
....but He saved you from the physical suffering.

I pray that your soul is restful, and that you are in a good place.
I hear that you were a good person.
Even before all this happened, people used to say you were the sister with most patience.

My heart bleeds for my father and my uncle.
Imagine seeing the child you raised pass away before you...

I can't stand to look at my father... My eyes well up.

This year resembles 2005, a lot.
Illnesses, death and financial troubles...

Is it all my fault? Because I'm confused with my beliefs, God is letting all this happen?
I don't know.

...Valentine's...

14th Feb... Girly Day...
The one day in the year, that I can truly dedicate to my girls...
That I will put aside everything else in my life, and only concentrate on my friends...

It's never about what the rest of the world do...
No, it's never bout Valentine's...
I've never worried about being dateless, or not having roses etc...

Yes, I've sent secret admirers cards... but to my girlfriends...
Never to any male interests... (unless they've been nothing but jokes)...
It's always been about my girls...

So today, why does my mind keep wandering off?
When I look at my roses, why do I keep hoping they were from someone else?
When I fell down whilst ice skating, why did I look around to see if there was someone else to help me up?
Why do I expect him to just walk out from the crowd and surprise me?
Why do I want him to do that?
Is that why I spent over an hour getting ready today?

I've fallen, and it's getting harder and harder to keep my feelings seperate from what's actually happening.

Taylor says, if you can't be a couple, then you should leave it, full stop.
This is the advice that Nessy usually gives to Spazzle...
So why can't the owner of both personalities listen to it?

I know I should end it...
It'll only get harder... but when? and how?
and why?
I don't understand...

I've not ever had a valentine, but right now, I really wish it was Quasimodo.

UK AMAs

It's that time of year again...
When everyone's trying hard to just get votes, and they don't care about anything else....

But Harm's different.
He's still trying to make DesiDesi a better place, even whilst he's trying to get more and more people to vote this year.

Basically, DesiDesi is an online magazine aimed at the Asian population...
Music, Entertainment, Gigs, Lifestyle articles...
They've got it pretty much covered...
They also have a forum, where they're running a competition at the moment...

Good Luck DesiDesi.
Good Luck Harm...

To vote for DesiDesi.Com as best site, go on to www.theukamas.com and follow the instructions.

Yes, there are better sites out there, but the owner of DesiDesi - Harm - actually loves the site, and does it for the people... and he doesn't receive a single penny...

Excusez moi, S'il vous plait?

Le Tour d'Eiffel... Photography was amazing... Kudos to Miss Abu Hamza...

My three days in Paris.
..C'était fantastique!

I went with SpongeBob Dribble Pants, GelAsh, Ma soeur aine, son petit copain, Sponge Cloth Towel, Sponge Cloth Towel's friend, and Apple Pie.
They were amazing.
I've never had so much fun before...
The company was honestly just great...

The actual city, was unbelievable!
It was *my* city.
Welcoming, friendly, sex-crazed.
The amount of men I flirted with, I couldn't begin to count...
Nearly everyone I stopped to speak to, and I stopped nearly everyone I passed.

I'm generally an outgoing social person, so talking to people doesn't scare me (as long as I can act confident).
Being the only French speaker, (my sister flopped it), I had to approach people and ask directions...
Turns out, most Parisians speak English... It didn't stop me from speaking French though..

We stayed in the 9th quarter, just off Rue Lafayette...
Le Grand Hotel Lafayette-Buffault.
It was soo quaint and pretty.
Not a nice bathroom though, and only one plug socket to share between four girls...

We found a Turkish Kebab House just around the corner, called Istanbul (closest Metro is Cadet)..
They made my life.
I fell in love.

The bits of sight-seeing we *did* get round to doing was amazing...

I'm definately going back again .
They have one of these, like, every 5 metres... The French know how to practice SafeSex...

The green man, who I looked forward to seeing everytime I had to cross the road... Although, many conduiteurs (I just made that word up... ) didn't really take notice of the RED LIGHT!

One of the most beautiful places in the world... I wish I could go back...

My opinion? I think some kind of gay orgy takes place there...

31 Days of Drama, Studies, and Confusion.

January usually is a quiet month, for me.
It involves a few exams, the 'flu and lots of comfort eating.

Considering I started the year off in a different way, I should've expected that the month itself wouldn't be so normal.

After coming back from the wedding on New Year's Day, I slept.
I slept pretty much a good 15 hours everyday for a week, knowing fully well I had an exam on the 8th.
Cue the panic on the 7th.
I stayed in the university library until 10pm that night... and I still didn't manage to research the case study.
Oops.
That's pretty much how the revision for the rest of my exams went.
I spent the exam period with Keeta, and went shopping and bought lots of useless things.

The following week, I spent with Kumar.
Cue the hilariousity and money wasting.
Minge was there, too.

They forced me out one Saturday evening... whilst I was greasy and hairy.
and they got me, what felt like something, tipsy.
I didn't like it.

I had an argument with 'Modo.
Well, not an argument really...
I uploaded a picture on FB... of my arm... with the bruises he gave me...
and I tagged him in it...
Oh, the drama!
Instead of telling me what was wrong, he decided not to tell me anything at all.
...and so I spent a whole week wondering why he hadn't returned my calls, and why he didn't text to wish me good luck in my exams and so on...
In the end, a silly text sent to him by mistake, made him call me and apologise...
Since then, he's been really cute and adorable... and keeps promising cuddles for when we next meet.
...which was meant to be the 30th, but Sod's Law meant that it didn't happen.

Many nights were spent on the phone to Kumar, regarding a certain TV.
*rolls eyes*
What a manipulative cry baby bitch.
He wanted to get with Kumar, thinking she's easy... and I just realised how typical and evil he is.
Thank goodness, neither one of us wanted "something" with him.
That's one person I'm glad not to count as a friend anymore.

I've spent two solid weeks watching DVDs every night, and spending a tenner on taxi fare from Kumar's house to mine at night.
Shit...
But, I've enjoyed myself... I really value her friendship, and I'm grateful I have her...
Finch, on the other hand, can go lick her phlange out.
I do not like her.
I know that's a terrible thing to say, but she annoys me.
She's not done anything directly horrible to me... but she annoys me.
I don't want to bitch about her, that much, so I'll leave it.

During wedding season, I discovered that Chayma's best friend was sNaKe...
Cue the probing and the questions... "What happened?" "Why don't you speak anymore?" etc etc...
Recently, I recieved a telephone call from SlagFace... apparently sNaKe's leaving to go back to the Motherland for 8 weeks... and he wants to say bye...
:
Right.
That's just what I need right now...
Another person who's drifted away to come back for only two seconds to say bye.
I didn't even get to speak to him, I was only granted a text...
I never got to tell him how much I missed him, and how special he was to me... and how everytime I get time alone to myself, I reminisc and regret my thinking...

I came across a few cool blogs to read, to keep me busy during those rare hours when I have nothing to do (usually in the weekends, when I'm locked up at home, pretending to be the good girl that I am)
Todger talk, and Bete de Jour.
I will link them, eventually!
(I'm on another computer, which doesn't have my favourites on it, and I can't be bothered to google them...)
But, Bete de Jour is lovely, from what I can make from his writing, and one of the guys on Todger Talk is absolutely hilarious. I think it's the Porno Mag man...
I love him..

Oooh, Uni gossip..
There's a man who lives in the library...
I'll tell you about him another time...

...Fear...

I've always been scared.
My first scary memory is when I still lived up North, and I used to think a murderer/burglar/ghost/monster was hiding in between the two inch gap underneath my parents' bed.
I was probably four.

Nothing has changed really, I'm now scared of what might be hiding in the tiny gap underneath my bed, ready to pounce on me at any moment.

When I was eleven, I watched the Exorcist, and I laughed all the way through.
What a waste of time, I said, as the credits rolled.
I couldn't sleep that night.
I haven't had many decent night's sleep since.

In Islam, there are beings called Jinns.
You can closely translate it to the English "Ghost".
I've been brought up with stories of these Jinns.
Jinns, and Black Magic and Witches that live in trees.
As Muslims, you're meant to believe in them.

When I went back to my parents' native country, apparently I was "caught by a ghost".
I changed completely; the way I interacted with my family, my mood, my apetite, my routine.
I was a 14 year old adolescent.
Apparently that doesn't make any difference to my culture.

From an early age, I stopped going to the bathroom at night.
Something to do with "Bloody Mary".
Even if my bladder was bursting, I wouldn't go to the bathroom.
I have my daily showers in the day time, and I've even scheduled my body to need the toilet in daylight hours.
When I brush my teeth at night, I make sure someone else is in the bathroom with me.
...and that they're talking.
I don't want them to suddenly become possessed the one minute I'm not paying attention.

My older sister is still used to me calling "Mummy" at 4am in the dark.
Since I was 4 or 5, she used to wake up and tell me not to be stupid, and that I only had a nightmare.
She still tells me not to be stupid, and that it's all in my imagination.

For a while, I used to use the Protection Prayer ( Ayat-ul-Qursi) to calm me down.
But then I had a nightmare, in which I kept reciting it wrong.
Since then, it's not worked.
Many nights, I stay awake, frozen in my bed, with that prayer going over and over in my head.

The passage light has never been switched off, because I know I'll get scared.
I chose the room with the roadlight outside the window.
My phone never leaves my hand at night, just in case I have to call 999 (if it's a murderer or burglar) or my house phone (if it's a ghost and I need my parents to come).

Every single night, I go through the motions of checking my room for any pictures.
Any magazines, posters, or leaflets get turned over so I can't see any faces.
Any mirrors left lying around are covered up with clothes.
Teddies are hidden at the back of cupboards.

Yet, I still get scared.
I still see faces.
I still shake and shivver.
I still cry.

Why am I so afraid?
Why can't I shake this fear off?
Does anyone know what I can do?
I can't take it much longer.

Two Double Oh Seven.

What a year.
It started in illness and ended in illness.

Scandal, Gossip, Drama.
College, Community and WWW.
RatBoy.
Quasimodo.
KbinWalid.

I don't even remember how I started talking to Modo.
It was the Monday before my birthday that he made me come.
Since then, I've been falling.

Summer time was a mixed bag of Lucky Dips.
Mi Madre had to go off and we had to stay and hold down the fortress.
That Summer I found my older sister.

I also held down a job for three or four months.
But I hated it.
So I left.

October saw the birth of the Uni-Ness.
How I hate it.

2007 was the year I made the decision to leave religion.
The beginning of my journey.
It was also the year I took my first acoholic drink.
Had my first orgasm.
Stayed in a place full of guys in a different city.
Discovered my other side.
Became an official tease.

I guess Double 07 was the year of many beginnings.
I hope double Oh Eight isn't the year of endings.

Rendezvous with Silly Quasi...

I remember when I met him in May. How he brought me to the brink of an orgasm...
The way his fingers found mine, and the way they easily knitted together with mine.
Him playing with strands of my hair, as I sat in his car, embarrassed...
When he took me in to the middle of the "forest" and started playing with me.

I saw him on Thursday... Six months after...
We knew what was on the agenda. I wore red lingerie with black ribbon, and black stockings and suspender belt.
It was very cold that day, so I decided to dress very casually, conservative. No legs, boobs or skin on show.
He'd put on a bit of weight since I saw him last. But, he's still got his nyummy stubble, and firm strong arms.

He took me to Selfridges to eat at Yo! Sushi, what a load of bullhype. It wasn't anything special. ..and my stomach problems meant I couldn't eat as much as I would've liked.
I wasn't allowed to touch him, hold hands, hug him or anything whilst we were out and about. The girl, or her friends might see... Yet, when we sat down, it was perfectly fine for him to stroke my thighs under the table?
The minute we got into the car, his hands were all over me... His fingers tracing patterns over my collar bone, my thighs, my stomach...
He gave me two options, go shopping or get lost for a bit... He then said there was an alternative... We could get a room... So which one did I choose?

He sped to the hotel, not wanting to waste any time. I started getting excited already, my panties were starting to get a bit damp. He got the room key, and we stepped in to the elevator. Cue the cliche-ness. The doors closed, and we were all over each other. They opened, and we darted to different sides of the lift.
The moment we stepped in the room, he didn't give me time to take my coat off or put my bag down... He kissed me... Violently, passionately. He forced my bag from my hand, and let it drop to the floor with a loud thud. My coat was taken off and chucked on the table... He pressed into the small of my back. "Can you feel me, Ness?" He was hard.. Very hard. I started to throb even more.
I was moved to a position where we could see our reflections in the mirror. My hat was falling off, my hair a mess. His eyes looking at me hungrily. What a perve.
LoL.
"Show me your stockings,"
He unzipped my jeans, and pulled them down, bending me over the bed. My heels flung over each shoulder.
"Wow" His hands caressed and massaged my arse.

"Stand up on the bed," I looked at him with a questioning look. "Nessy, stand up on the bed, now."
I did as I was told, and he made me turn around and face the wall. I felt him finger the netted material of my knickers, then I felt a kiss, two kisses. His stubble rubbing against my smooth skin. His buried his nose into the crease, whilst he kissed me. Swiftly, he turned me around, so that I was facing him...

All of a sudden, I remembered where I was, and felt embarrassed that I had been enjoying him between my thighs, and that I was being very vocal about it. He looked at me and smirked, and went on to touch and caress me...
I closed my eyes and let myself just feel. For the first time, ever, I didn't have to worry about people hearing me, and I didn't need to suppress any noises that escaped my voice box. ...and he seemed to enjoy it.
"Oh my God, Ness, you're really wet."
His fingers fluttered against me, and my knees were turning to jelly. He brought me down to kneel on the bed, and kissed my face, my neck, and shoulder. He then pushed me down. My head hit the wall, and he immediately cupped my face with his hands and kissed me. Two extra pillows were placed under my head; I felt so safe.
He went back to playing with me, touching and feeling. He asked if I felt alright to have his finger in... and I said I needed to get more wet, it was too early. His eyes nearly popped out, apparently, I was incredibly wet already.

"Do you want my tongue down there?" He grinned and moved down the bed... I could feel him watching me, and the shyness came back. I turned to bury my face in the pillow, and he chuckled. I giggled as well, "You're such a perve" and I reached down to cover his eyes. He just kissed me harder on my thigh, making me let go and groan in pleasure.
He took my knickers off and threw them to one side, and started flicking his tongue over my clit. I was in ecstasy. I had wanted to be licked out for so long. ..and I was glad it was Quasimodo who was lapping up at me. His stubble kept rubbing against my groin and in turn, I started grinding against his face.
My legs were lifted up over his shoulders and he lifted my bum up and held them in place with his hands. Heaven couldn't feel as good as I felt then. He laid me back on the bed, reached under me and turned me over... and started using his fingers as well as licking me.
...I stopped thinking about anything, and felt almost dizzy, and that's when I felt it. A finger stroking my arsehole, and then slowly entering me. It didn't feel amazing, but it didn't feel wrong. I let him carry on, and then it just got painful. He let go immediately, and carried on using his tongue. He wrapped his strong big arms around my thighs and lifted me higher, his tongue becoming more firm and his sucking more harsher. My breathing became more and more shallow, and I was clutching at anything to make it stop.
Why?
I have no idea.
I could feel myself get closer, my body was tingling and I felt like I was having an asthma attack. LoL.

*Bang Bang Bang*
Someone was knocking on the door, never have I moved so quickly in my life. Quasi was up in a flash, too. I hid in the corner of the room, whilst he went near the door... and we waited and listened.
"It's only the hoover."
We both started laughing. A lot.
He took me by both arms and led me to the bed. "I love how quickly you get wet for me, Ness Bitch"
He took his jeans off, and looked at me to see if I was ok with it. I smiled to reassure him. He smiled back and took his dick out. I was expecting something small, from the way he always talked about it. Average size, I guess, but very thick. It looked like the nose of one of the Racoons... Lmao.
"That's so big!" I stared at it, wide eyed. He started rubbing it up and down my lips. It felt so soft, so smooth. I immediately starting to become wet again. He let out a sigh, that made me feel .. good! He spread my legs apart, and lowered himself down on me. His lips brushed against my nipples, and I noticed, that for the first time they actually looked normal. He caught me looking, and grinned. "You get off from watching, don't you?"

The last time we met was very rushed. Very cramped... and very amazing.
The cows were our audience, and the farmland our stage.
I came in costume, leopard print. Lol.
He slid his finger in me with ease this time, and I enjoyed it.
Actually that was an understatement.

It's been two months since we last met, and I've been craving him.
I want to feel his arms holding me, his rough stubble against my skin...
I want to feel him inside.

Pussycat, Pussycat, Where have you been?

I've been to London to see the Queen.

8 Days away from home.
Away from routine.
Away from TV and Internet.
Away from bitches... almost.
Away from TAGs (courtesy of Quasi).

A Birthday, Engagement Party, Rendezvous with Quasi and lots of shopping, restaurants and Krispy Kremes.

It's amazing how one week away from everything you're used to can mess up your internal system.
I definately needed this break though.

I met up with a few more e-people.
jariN, Feefee and Cheeky.
Lovely people.

Schlag Giti came out...
The day before meeting up with Quasi, I met jariN and couldn't help but play footsy with him.
On the way home, infront of Mi Hermana Mayor, I was getting cosy with him on the tube.
His hand wrapped around mine.
My arse pressing against his crotch, and yes, he was hard.
His other arm stroking my stomach.
Mi Hermana Mayor asked if I liked him.
I said no.
He's cute, and I adore him.
But, no.
There's nothing there.
He's my age.
It doesn't work.

I felt like we were leaving Feefee out, though.
I kept trying to talk to her, and shop with her, and jariN would keep taking me to the side and trying hats on me etc etc...
She was really cute, bless her.
But, very quiet.

Cheeky? She's amazingly cute.
Exactly how I thought she'd be.
East London Gyal. LoL.

yaG was surprisingly really nice to me.
Mi hermana Mayor must've said something.
They all tried their best to accomodate me.
I'm very grateful.
I, honestly, am.

It would be silly to go into detail as to what happened with Quasi...
That would possibly be another post...
But, I've realised, I like how there's nothing emotional between us.
Well, I do like him, still, but it's not going to go anywhere.
...and I don't think I want it to.
He's ten years my senior, for goodness sake!
He could get hitched any moment... although I highly doubt it with him...
Not that he can't get a wife... He just can't settle, I don't think.
and no, I don't want to be the girl he settles for.
I do really like him... and the way I fit in his arms and could lay my head on his chest was perfect.

I bought £39 worth of lingerie for my sister, only to return it because she's a bit of prude and doesn't like ANYTHING from Ann Summers.
I, then, lost the gift voucher that I was thinking of using for a vibrator.

Now that I'm back, I should really fix up.
Today, I'm being a bit lazy and just catching up slowly, on the lecture notes that I've missed.
Tomorrow will be a long day, full of note making and properly catching up.
Wednesday, I shall tidy up the whole house.
I hope to be up to date with everything by Friday.

Stock. Lock... and Suspenders.

I brought some pretty stockings today.
Some pretty suspenders, too.

I tried them on, clipped them into place.
They've been wrapped up and are waiting in the suitcase.
They're not coming out until the 15th.

Not to try on, not to take pictures.

I am forbidden from touching them until the 15th.
I am the forbidder, this time.

I bought them for him.
He shall get the pleasure first.
I'll get mine from his.

It's going to take all the willpower in the World, not to try them on and take pictures.
They feel like Heaven!

Pictures will come after the 15th, obviously.
If I'm lucky enough, He'll shoot me.
In more ways than one.

Layered. Choppy. Shining.

Hair.
My Hair.
My one part of my body that I can flaunt without much effort.

The previous post's pictures will show that I had long hair.

It's been chopped off.
Dramatically.
I, now, no longer have long, lucious hair which cascades elegantly down my back.
Hair that makes me feel womanly, pretty... girly.

I have gone for the chop.
Texture.
Movement.
It screams out rebel.

Obviously, because the rebel in me made the rash decision to get my hair cut today.
No thoughts, no worries.
Just a decision.

I feel like I have to change my style and attitude to accomodate this haircut.
I can no longer act coy and cutesy.
It won't suit.
Maybe when it grows out a bit.

Let's hope.

***Pictures will follow***

Muchas Para Decir...

Let my vain self start by posting a few pictures of the many that I've taken with the webcam.
I forgot how much fun those tiny cams could be.



Body-concious? Me? Pffft.
LoL.
I love my legs.
Webcam shows, night after night, of kinky skirts and my lovely ankle boots..
..Oh, and flesh coloured underwear.

It's the end of the fourth week at univeristy.
Arg!
Asian-saturation.
...I end up spending my free time in the library, writing and re-writing notes to pass time by.
I still haven't taken part in any SU Event. Hmph.
All for this B'ham trip? It had better be worth it.

Last night, was the Doctor and Nurses party.
The white dress was going to transform me into a nurse.
We didn't go.
Instead we went to Old India and then Chicago Rock.
I wore my black dress, the one that can be taken off with two very swift movements.
Lots of sleazy coments, and stares filled with lust and desire.
My wanton self loved it... My body writhed and gyrated in pleasure to the tune of "Don'tcha" by the ever so sexy PussyCat Dolls.

Mi Hermana Mayor is in London, now.
Like the mendhi she did on my arms and leg, my yearning for her is disappearing.
Crumbling.

Little One won a talent contest.
Bless him.
Our little superstar..

Me and Quasi?
Hmmm, a rollercoaster.
We started speaking... lots and lots.
Nearly every night was filled with deep moans of pleasure, and frustrated gasps.
I told him...
That no one else turned me on as much as he did.
That I really like him.
That I want him to be my first...
...Then he asks me if I'd have a problem if he was messing around with another woman.
My Masochistic self told him there's nothing wrong with it.
..and he still sends me texts full of dirty words, thoughts and desires.

Am I stupid?
Surely, it's better to have a little of Quasi, than nothing at all?

Sweb came back into my life.
...and I remember why he made me uncomfortable.
His typical backward thinking.
Sex before Marriage?
Oh, goodness no! Not for you, Giti.
Although I've lost it and still take pleasure in the act of sexing once in a while.

Next weekend: Wild Trip.
Will I see l'Hunchback de Birminghame?
Will I see TrouserSnake?
Will I drink myself silly?
What should I wear?
It will definately be written about, with pictures.

Fresher.

It's been a week at Uni.
I Love/Hate it.

I've suffered Fresher's Flu, now I'm getting a sore throat.
I have a 9.30am start, everyday.
5 days a week.

There's no talent... at all.

I spend more time with Myma and Mimi...
I'm finally no longer a College Student.

I've not attended any of the Fresher's Events, and I've yet to meet someone doing Management... but, it's all good.
The people are friendly, the course seems cool.
=]

Changes in Notredame

He called me last night.
He did something about that text I sent him.

He was really... strict.
..If that's the word to use?

There was no chance for me to be cutesy.
I had to be what he wanted me to be.
I had to say what he wanted me to say.
It was scary, but, I liked it.
My lips trembled everytime his voice went sharp.

"Take your knickers off, now."
"Get in bed."
"Just answer me straight. Is it a yes or no?"

I had no choice but to answer him.
He made me describe what I'd like us to do...
...he knows it's hard for me to do that.
They're the most personal thoughts I have.
I'm at my most vulnerable when I tell him my fantasies..
..and last night?
The words wouldn't even come out...
...He clocked on... and he took over.

He became soft, and his voice took me to that magic place.
His words lulling me into a sense of security.
His soft voice nudging me to go further, that it was ok.
He came.

...and my Mother and sister stood outside my door, chatting.
I had to grit my teeth to keep any noise I made from coming out of my mouth.
I came harshly.
Amazingly, neither Mother nor sister said anything.
I'm praying to God it was because I didn't make any noise, and not because they're embarassed.

He spoke to me in the same hushed tones that I've been missing these past weeks.
and told me to go to sleep.

Million dollar question : What are we now?

Fishing.

Tue Sep 18, 2007 12:26 pm

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I called Quasi last night.
He was in the middle of watching a Catherine Zeta Jones picture...
Yes, it turned me on.

I asked him what he was doing, he said that I wouldn't like to know.
He was struggling to keep his voice normal,
I heard him gasp a few times, he sounded like he was content. pleasured. warm.
I left him to it.

I woke up at 5am, my panties wet.
I sent him a fishing text.
Why?
I don't know.

To make me cringe even more, he didn't even do what i had asked in the text.

Unwanted wantonness?
I suspect so.

My Quasimodo...

wasn't ever mine. LoL.

I called him the other night.
I couldn't stop myself anymore.
..and i was so dissappointed.
He was so un-interested; it felt like he didn't care.

His voice even seemed different.

Rage burned inside me, and I needed to get off the phone.
Maybe I was too rude whilst saying bye.

I dreamt about him last night... I think.
How my hand sat.. just right.. in his hand.
How he made me giggle everytime he tugged at my bottom lip.
The way he held my body close to his.

I don't really believe in Perfect.
..and anyways, if it did exist, it would be a weird thing.
My perfect, may not be your perfect.
But... That day.
The day I spent with him, was something that I would call Perfect.

Rose coloured spectacles?
I'm guessing so.

I wanted him to pop my cherry.
I thought he'd stick around, do the caring thing.
I might act like a hoe wannabe, but really, I'm a soppy pathetic little girl at heart.
I want to be looked after.
I thought he would.

Thank Goodness I didn't get that far with him.
He's farting around with (an)other girl(s)...

I'd still love to spend a night with him.
His and my sexualism were on the right frequency.
Nothing spoken, nothing questioned, nothing answered.
Just the vibes.
From day one.

A night alone with him would result in many orgasmic experiences.
I want him to hold my hand again.
I'm not asking for much, am I?

Help...

I've realised I've made it clear to most that I'm not a practising Muslim, and I doubt very much that I am actually a follower of the faith.
(This doesn't mean I'm an atheist or a God hater...
Quite the contrary, I have a fierce belief in God...
I just don't know how to reach out to Him yet.)

Last night, as I held my hands up to pray at the table with the family (they don't know yet), the following prayer was recited
"Allah hummaghfir lana, waa li waalidayna.
Rabbir ham huma kama rabbayaani sagheera."
Now, I've been reciting this prayer over and over many times in the past few years.
It's a prayer for parents.

The thing is, I don't actually know what the prayer means...
So, I feel weird reciting a Muslim prayer.
I'd rather say the translation, which wouldn't make me feel so weird.
I mean, why recite a Muslim prayer, if you're claiming that you don't feel like one?
Weird, no?

So, that's why I'm asking anyone to help translate this for me.
I'd still very much like to pray for my parents, especially when they piss me off.
Which is more often, than not.

(It sounds weird that I'm asking for a translation of THAT prayer, and I can't just say what's in my heart.
But, I like chanting stuff, over and over again.
And, if everytime I feel like praying for my parents I have to say, "Please God, grant my parents a place in Heaven. and don't give them too much hardship in this world or the next. oh and please keep them happy. oh and ... etc etc"
Then it loses the effect.)

Blog Name...

I just realised, this blog had turned out so different to what I originally set out to do.
This was just meant to be a private diary, that I could chat about anything without being scared of being judged, of any repercussions... etc etc...
Just a place to reflect and to write...
A place of my own...

Yea, it still might be all of that, but it's turned into more of a Sex Blog, don't you think?
Maybe it's because I only read those sorts of blogs?

I'm thinking I should blog a bit more about other aspects of my life...
except, my hornyism is quite a big thing...
Well, it has certainly been for the past demi-year, I think.

Hopefully, with university starting around the corner and job hunting about to start, I should have more things to blog about.
Rainbow in a Colourless World?
I still pretty much think that...

Ramadhan...

It's that time of year again.
I'll be doing things differently, though.

I'm not going to fast, pray etc etc.

However, I will still do my Prayer Diary.

Just because I'm having problems with religion, doesn't mean my faith in God isn't there.

Prayer for Today:
I pray that those who are worshipping you, by fasting or praying are rewarded for their efforts.
I pray that the Madeline case gets solved soon. It's not fair that I only mention Maddie, so, I hope all the lost children ou there are safe, and have somewhere to sleep.
I hope that those who are unwell are able to make a speedy recovery, and my condolences for those who have lost someone close to them...
Amin.

Realisation

The little one decided to do a runner today.
Left us all in a foul mood.

Today, we've realised why we're the siblings and not parents.
He was disciplined.
Properly.
For the first time.
Usually we take him away from the parents and tell him off.
The most we'll do is slap his arm or something.

Today, Father took matters into his own hands.
Little one had it coming all Summer.
It must take a lot to hit a child you love.
I remember Father once telling Little one, that he kept him closer to his heart than the blood that runs through it.

I've had to escape, because:
a) I know I'll cry.
b) I'll want to hug him and say it's ok.
c) I'll undo everything that the Parents are doing.

Hopefully, after today he won't walk out the door anymore.
He's done it too often.
Today was the worst.
The whole family, including Father, had to look for him.
He beat up the Little Sister.
He shouted at me all the way home.
Little one is, officially, the brat I never wanted him to be.

Maybe he needs more alone time with the Parents?
...and we need to take a step back from him?

I never want to feel how I did when I couldn't find him.
I would've, unashamed, cried openly in public, if I didn't find him any sooner.