Decluttering Makeup, as 2016's Resolution: Quality Over Quantity

The older I get, the more I know makeup, the wiser I be. We all once must have been in the period of impulsive buying. We buy everything, even we had not known the idea of using all those makeup tools or we buy just for the sake of its cute packaging. I know we were. Times passed by, you would realize that makeup and tools that you've been using over and over were only some, while the others were sitting peacefully on the vanity.

Those happened to me too, it's about time I realized that some makeup looks doesn't suit my personality, some makeups that those beauty bloggers recommend doesn't work on me and some makeup dupes that I thought would be fine, turned out did not meet my expectation that I still longing for the former one that I was looking for the dupe.

My affection towards skincare too, affecting my makeup appetite. As far as my concern is on the "canvas", I would confidently go out even without makeup on. Investing in a good skincare and maintaining a healthy skin is my current main priority that makeup has been set aside for now.

Then I looked at my pouches....

I had only one back then, and it was my mom's since she accidentally left her makeup pouch when she visited me in college. What she left were a mascara, a neutral eyeshadow palette, a powder brush, a lipstick, peach blusher, and face powder. Sounded regretful, in the end, she gave all of them to me with this justification: "At least my daughter would look presentable.". Guess what, she then even regretting the day she gave all her makeup to me because, since that day, my addiction towards makeup was becoming real!

Alhamdulillah

During our trip to Semporna, Sabah, we managed to go to one village in Pulau Bum Bum. The village was caught on fire months ago and we could still see the damage caused that day. The villagers were very nice. They gave us smile, a little bit curious, looking at us just like we were from outside of the world maybe because we looked so different and there was some foreigner with us. I was questioning myself that time...

What if I was born here?
What am I going to do?
What if I was born without access to education and no one to tell me to perform salah?
How my life would be?

Sometimes we forgot that to have a door open is a fortune. Not everyone could get an opportunity to have a door open for us to see the world, too seek knowledge in search of the Divinity. To be born as a Muslim is a blessing. To got a chance to go to school, despite how bad the system is and how bad the chairs are, is a blessing. There are many unfortunates. And they're close.

The Art of Forgiving Ourselves

I couldn't sleep that night. Night felt so cold and my mind seemed out of control. I was staring at the ceiling, wondering what was happening, what was wrong. It's been days and I couldn't figure out what that was and my sleeping pattern was messed up because of that.

And tears started to fall.

My logic told me that crying would not solve the problem, and my logic, being what she was, told me I was fine, maybe it was because I was stressed out. Submissions were coming and we knew that not long after that, I would face the final exams. Trying to be strong, I stopped crying.

But it didn't help.

... And I cried even more.

Flashbacks came and I remembered all things in the past. Scene after scene flashed and the bad thing was they were not the memories that I wanted to remember. Those are the past that I wanted to erase forever, like in computer move it to recycle bin and empty it forever. Unfortunately, our life, body and mind don't work like that because we're not robots.

Those past memories came one after one and didn't stop. They were like saying hi because I forgot them long, telling myself I was okay and it didn't matter anymore, but the fact was I still do.

We often have a picture in our mind how we wanted to be, and I have stuck them into my brain so that whatever I do, I act like how I wanted to be.

I told myself that I was strong, and no one could bring me down.

I told myself that I was smart, I knew which goes to the head and which goes to the heart.

I told myself that I was perfect, I did everything perfectly, systematically, without any flaw.