tulisan hampa

I've never specifically talked about him in my blog, (or maybe I have you just need to scroll if you want to make sure). But, let me tell you (probably again) this time. It's about my best friend, the internist. --- You know how some people grow up with religion around them, but it never really hits them until something big happens? That’s how it was for my friend. He was never the overly religious type. He respected Islam, sure — practiced when he could, asked big questions about God and life — but not the kind to get swept away in spiritual ecstasy. If anything, he was a realist, a thinker. Someone who believed, but hadn't yet  felt  the full weight of that belief.  What I always admired about him was his openness. He wasn’t blindly skeptical, nor was he blindly obedient. He had this honest kind of curiosity—about the universe, about God, about the Divine energy that surrounds everything. He'd ask deep, random questions about destiny, about du'a, about why pain e...

Biggest mistakes men make: 1. They ignore the details 2. They sleep before their wives. Let me tell you: Don't. Female is the most complicated creature in this world. They're made of a man's rib, yet they are not below men to be ordered and controlled. They are not above men because biologically and physically not equally as strong as men, yet they have this other powers that men don't. One of those powers is presence . A woman remembers what you said two weeks ago, what you didn’t notice yesterday, and how you looked at her just this morning. She lives in the details. The little things you ignore are the very things that shape how she feels loved, safe, and seen. Don't believe her when she says "I'm okay", and "I'm used to it", and "it's not a big deal", and other too good to be true statements. No. She is not okay, and if you touch her in certain part(s) SHE WILL BREAKDOWN and probably burst into tears. She is on denial at...

Our love is not that bold, not quiet. It does not sit politely at the dinner table or walk neatly in the daylight. It is wild, trembling, untamed. It is the place we run to when reason no longer matters. Our love is an asylum. A refuge where the walls close in but somehow keep us safe. A hidden chamber where the world cannot find us, cannot judge us. Here, we shed sense and slip into madness, wrapping ourselves in each other’s gravity. With you, I forget the edge between sanity and surrender. With you, I step off the cliff willingly. We land on another planet, and it feels like home—a home stitched from stolen hours, from glances too long, from whispers too soft for anyone else to hear. They would call us reckless. They would call us wrong. But what do names matter when my pulse finds rhythm in your touch? When reason unravels and all that’s left is the echo of your breath against mine? I do not ask to be saved. I do not ask to be understood. I ask only to lose myself in this asyl...

There are certain glances that don’t belong to the world. They linger, uninvited, in the fragile space between two souls who know they should never cross the line. When our eyes meet, it feels like the air forgets how to exist. My lungs stumble, my pulse betrays me, and for a fleeting second the universe seems smaller—just us, staring too long, pretending we don’t notice. But we do. We notice everything. We count every second and make meaning to the smallest gesture. The curve of a smile that was never meant to be defined other than a virtue. The weight of silence that carries more words than we are allowed to speak. The soft gravity that pulls us closer, even when reason keeps us apart. And isn’t it strange? That sometimes the most powerful connections are the ones bound by impossibility. That knowing we can never step beyond this shared-sentiment makes every stolen glance taste like forbidden poetry. So, we laugh. We talk. We keep it safe. We let the world believe it’s simple. And in...

There are moments in life when I find myself tangled in a web of confusion — like standing in the middle of a messy room, unsure where to begin, or trying to untie a knot that only seems to tighten the more I pull. Emotions blur. Decisions seem heavier. The future feels foggy. And the worst part? I don’t even know why I feel stuck. But then… something shifts. A conversation. A long-overdue cry. A sudden realisation at 2 a.m. A quote in a book. A verse I've read a thousand times but only now it hits differently. And just like that — suddenly everything makes sense again . Clarity doesn’t always arrive in a grand revelation. Sometimes, it whispers. Sometimes, it walks in quietly while I'm busy trying to fix everything else. It's that moment when I look back and go, "Oh… that's why that happened." It’s like God rewinds my life, connects the dots, and hands me the map I didn’t know I needed. The chaos didn’t disappear, but it no longer defines me. The ques...

Beneran efek kafein Tuku—tiada lawan sejauh ini—menjadi satu-satunya protokol yang masih membuat denyutku sinkron ketika semua proses tubuh menuntut tidur. Badan dan ragaku sudah sangat, sangat lelah; tapi pikiranku masih belum pulang. Seperti layar yang menolak mode tidur, mataku mencari sesuatu untuk di-refresh: halaman demi halaman kubaca apa saja yang bisa kulahap supaya kelopak ini keburu menyerah. Sudah lembar ketiga—sudah ada footer, header, tag—aku tetap gagal menemukan titik di mana jaringan pikiranku layak untuk disconnect. Kamu bukan AI, tapi aku merawatmu dengan cara seorang teknisi merawat server yang rapuh: rutin memeriksa log, menunggu ping, menahan napas saat ada delay. Aku membungkus rindu dalam sintaks sederhana—emoji yang tak terpakai, pesan setengah jadi yang mampir di draf—seolah kata-kata itu cukup untuk memperbarui firmware hatiku. Kadang aku membayangkan kita seperti dua aplikasi yang bertukar token; kamu memberi izin, aku menyimpan cache kenangan. Kadang rindu ...