Macam Mana Nak Cari Jodoh di Malaysia?

900k ahli di sana sedang mengunggu anda di Baitul Jannah. Mungkin.. jodoh awak ada sana.

Daftar Sekarang!



Keep relying on your senses when you know your senses often omit little sense. Close to an hour left…a long awaited for weekend. The upcoming holidays, plentiful of hopeful promises, of ease and continual peace; no chaotic conundrums in the head to constrain—Useless are these thoughts, troubling the self with troublesome thoughts just playing them over and over again. How detrimental, redundant and suffocating; are these thoughts.


These days, if one has noticed, yours truly does not like to post bitter, bringing the self-down posts.  As usual, at first it was just seeping out emotions till today this particular emotion is somewhat in everlasting abundance as it was even from before. The disease engulfs one’s thinking, decision making and perception. He tries hard yet it is him and he is it…or something to that affect. Stuck and stagnant; stuck in a sea with motion sickness, sickness in motion—sickened emotions.


Worries what a worry! What is in the future and what is in planning for the future? Circle of life, the way things work, preparations, expectations…where is this acceptance? Contentment, gratefulness, satiated, fulfilled. Love and loved.


Emptiness, a churning, distasteful, a twist of fate. Fatigue. The soul, sold and it gets confused with the transaction, isn’t this the right path? It cried. The sleep, the wake, the fatigue, the dissatisfaction, the ungrateful, the discontent. But-but when distasteful hits you’re supposed to smile and show happiness when the pangs of love are absent. Can we come to some kind of terms? Going in the morning, coming back in the evening. The days become years, the life becomes old, yet the void still grows, there is still not enough money.


Instill in me enough love so we don’t appear unruly, even when someone is discontent or someone who transgress against his the ways of traditions? Instill in me pretentiousness, so we may pretend that this is the path one straight path one embarks, for a better future they say, to put food on the table as we say. We shouldn’t sway when slaves should slave. Obtain a car, a house and stability and then a father hands his daughter to be wed. Now that there is a car, a house and stability and a few debts lingering for a few solid years... To holy matrimony.


Look at beauty and look at the good things when nearer are the ugly and the unjust. Can it be left ignored, untouched, remain un-noticed?


Come on, let’s continue to rely on our limited, lying senses. Where one day we sense this and the next we sense what sense didn’t make sense. Go on keep on relying on your senses when at this wake you are sure of your senses and the next you make a mockery of the senses. How is this consensus?


Go on, keep on lying and say everything is moving ahead. To where is this journey embarking. We are all dying, this is all too overwhelming, and what will the outcome of this journey? Am I over-thinking or just merely barking? What a nuisance over-thinking when there is no power in constraining the blinking…I meant the blinking of the eyes.  Reassuring, stabilizing, having plan B’s and insurance a pretence for assurance.


There are countries at wars and their concern has plummeted to just keeping the eyes alive. Here in a Peaceful country we go to war in the morning facing traffic jams and each in his tank, each in a constrain, each conceited, their only care is about the self the rest can thread in hell. He is the only one with a family to survive; his is the only one with love. Others…meh. 


And after spending some half a century working and obtaining and gaining and buying and living and experiencing all sorts of pleasure. He then looks for something permanent, something that will appease spiritually something more permanent a little more pertinent. Though his habits are too strong, he is used to buying peace and till the end of his time. He keeps on looking for things that will please and so he needs to work hard to obtain another piece.


The hour is up, it is time to sulk in the weekend or so the senses believe.


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