.: that time of year again :.

Hello again my lovely, lovely folks~ 

My thoughts.

So just yesterday it was my 19th birthday :) I had a wonderful time with friends and family. Since it's still the fasting month at the moment, we celebrated by having a birthday Iftar (breaking the fast) at a Palestinian restaurant not too far from campus. Nothing fancy, nothing too loud; just a bunch of friends getting together for a humble dinner. We had fun.

Life is good. Life is treating me well, as I don't really have anything to complain about. I mean, sure, life is full of inconveniences, but I have so much more to be thankful for. A loving family, a roof over my head, food on my plate. And loads of friends, who are like gems each and every one of them. Life is good.

I know the Dreams have been updating pretty slow nowadays, and that's because of University getting in the way. Next week, I'm about to wrap up my short semester with finals, and after that I'll be home free. And when I'm not back in campus studying, I'm working my butt off on my other personal projects; my arts and stories. My greatest fear is not completing anything I start so these projects of mine are an important exercise for me to get my jobs done. I have to admit, it's been pretty difficult especially since I scrapped and re-vamped a whole comic, SUPERSTUDENTS. But I'm enjoying my comic's fresh, gritty, new look. As I compare these to the old pages, which I can't bear to look at any more (shudder), the fact that I've improved so much as an artist and storyteller is what gets me the most. 

SUPERSTUDENTS Prologue: Out of the Dark pg1

Start reading SUPERSTUDENTS now!

I love telling stories. Whether it's drawing a comic or writing fictions, the thrill of spilling out my creativity and ideas in the form of symbols, pictures and words; it's like adrenalin for me. A while back, I completed my first 'volume', you could call it, of a fiction I call Ellis In Onederland (not clever enough? sue me). It started with a series of sketches, then full-fledged pictures, till I thought to myself one day; why not write your own version of what went down the rabbit-hole? And so I did. What started off as a whimsical idea made me begin my f a i r y t a l e s project, where I'd rewrite many of the famous fables with my own twists.

Down the rabbit hole... again

The girl & the Wolf

Start reading Ellis In Onederland and Red Riding Hood: The Wolves & The Rosebud.

So far I have only finished one volume of Ellis, and is still planning the second. And I am still in the process of writing Red Riding Hood. Hopefully there will be more tales to come. With each story, I experiment and improve my writing styles and storytelling skills. The more I write, the more I develop each character and expand their worlds, delving more into their backgrounds, their stories and their hearts. I try my best to explore and differentiate characters. Now as I try my hand at drama with .: Invisible Lines :., a romantic side-story of Ellis In Onederland, I experiment writing how differently lives may twist and turn, and may not always be fictional in some aspects.

Starring the White Rabbit from Ellis In Onederland.

Start reading .: Invisible Lines :.

Another year has passed and gone for me, and I am still walking along this path laid before me. Sure it's mostly unclear and foggy, and I have no guarantee where I'll end up in a few weeks, let alone a few more years down the road. But I hope and pray for the best, that all will be well. And as I continue to work hard where I am now, slowly but surely, I'll get to where I want to be. I'll continue creating art, I'll continue studying Psychology and writing Dreams; and I will be happy in life, Insya'Allah (if God wills).

Thank you, and God bless you every one.

Love,

Dyana.

. 22.02.11 Daniel .

  At first I observe the Dream as an outsider, like watching a movie up on the screen. We're in a cavern of some sort, rocky, jagged walls surrounding us with nowhere to go but up. The atmosphere is depressing, with a horrifying amber glow permeating from the endless pits at the bottom. There are people here too but I can't remember how they look like. Suspended in the air above them, above the red, gaseous pits, was an adolescent boy. He was wrapped in what looked like thick, rough, organic rope, like vines. He was hanging vertically, his hands tied behind his back, his legs and feet bounded straight. He was sobbing quietly.

  An event took place but I wasn't there to witness it. I just saw the shadows of people leaving the rocky cavern. It was at this time my persona appeared, but I can't really tell what my physical appearance looked like. All I could tell was that I was an older woman with long (dark brown or auburn) hair. The boy was left suspended in the air, alone in the dark cavern. I could hear him sobbing, “Please... g-g-get me d-down.. Pl-ea-asee..” he whimpered.

  I grabbed the ropes and, like a pulley mechanism, lowered him down, “Don't worry Daniel, I've got you, I've got you..” I seemed to call out to him. His cries were getting louder as he got closer to the ground. I was right under him, trying to catch him at the same time lower him carefully but I lost my grip and he sort of fell onto me. Though I fell backwards on the ground, it didn't hurt at all and I had caught him in my arms. I cut through the ropes and though he was free, he couldn't move – his muscles were too weak and he was stricken with fear. I cuddle him and let him rest on my chest as he sobbed louder.

  I felt him shiver in my arms, from the cold and from fear. I felt the sweat on his head and body, through his ragged clothes. I felt his chest heave with every gasp of breath he took I glanced at his back to find strips of dark red scars and slashes through his already tattered shirt. I held his head closer to my chest, my fingers digging into his long, thick hair, “Shhh... it's over... It's over..” I tried to calm him.

  He spoke, tears choking his every word, “T-they.... they just wa-w-watched.... They.. w-watched.. T-their.... only s-s-s-son... g-get flog-g-ged.. aaa-nd.. a-and..” Flashes came into my mind, replaying the event that I didn't witness before. Before he was suspended for the public viewing, he was given countless lashes on his back; right in front of his parents. From what I could tell, his parents seemed like high and powerful authority figures who took discipline seriously. As to what Daniel did to deserve this, I have no answer. My persona seemed very close to Daniel, so much so that I felt really fond of him in a sad, nurturing sort of way. He was never shown real love before, not even from his family – and now this.

  We're still on the floor, me on my back and him lying almost on top of me in a sort of fetal position. I was cuddling his head and after I tell him to stop talking, I take his face and kiss him passionately. He seems in shock, as if he had never been kissed before, or he didn't exactly know what a kiss was. The kiss stops and I look into his crystalline eyes, still watery and stinging from the tears. I wipe his flooded cheeks and tell him with a straight face, “Daniel... I will never.. EVER abandon you. You understand? Never.” He collapses back onto my chest, holding onto me tightly. He was sobbing loudly, but he sounded relieved his torture was finally over.

There wasn't much I could tell about the characters' designs. I'm still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together but overall here's what I remember. Daniel has the look and physique of an ordinary teenage boy, like around 18, 19 or so and my persona sounded a little older, a little more mature so maybe like 20-22 years old. Daniel was rather interesting, like the rest of his people, because he had baby-blue skin and crystalline teal eyes, almost green. (Megamind much?) His hair was dark, navy blue with slivers of white on the right side of his fringe. His hair was sort of long and straight with a bit of wave to it. I can't remember anything of my persona, but I'm thinking of naming her Athena. I'll probably just make up an identity for her later on.

.: day fifteen :.

webs

spin me cobwebs of silken memories ; see them glisten in the dark of my mind.

some are perfect, while others broken ; regardless i keep them tied to me.

forever they are beautiful as well as fragile.

. 16.02.11 the wrong gender .

There were bits of pieces to this Dream but when it finally came together, it was a great idea for a story! Here's how it goes. It's set in the late 1800's and the main character is a young woman. She looks for a partner in the most unconventional way; by dressing up as a man herself. Her idea was to see if men would fall for her smarts and personality instead of her womanly figure and wealth. Because though she acted like a lower-class ruffian, she actually came from a respectable family with loads of money. But this was a different town and no one knew her and her disguise was perfect. Well, almost.

She is at a local pub and something happens, I'm unsure what exactly. Maybe she got into a fight or some older men were picking on her, actually thinking that she was really a scrawny, young boy. Being the fiesty spirit that she was, perhaps she fought back but before real chaos could ensue, she was rescued by a tall, large and rather dashing-looking man. The other men then kept away. The gentleman offered her to drink with him at the bar. He was tall, compared to her, polite and laid-back with a sense of humor. He wore a suit of pure white. He had black hair tied into a short pony tail. His skin was not too dark and not too fair either. He had an eye-patch over his right eye, and beneath it were small, partly visible burn-scars in the shape of little roses.

She was unsure why he had saved her from a possible brawl or whether he saw through her disguise but she took the offer to sit with him as he was kind enough. He said he was waiting for a friend and sure enough his friend appears from behind them. He was a burly, masculine man, slightly taller than even his friend. He was bald but he had thick black eyebrows, mustache and beard. His muscles were enormous, and they showed from his baggy, sleeveless sailor-shirt. His voice was loud and boisterous, and bellowed throughout the whole bar. It turns out he was famous in wrestling tournaments, but regardless of his intimidating size and weight, he was kind and gracious.

He put out his hand for a shake to the lady (still dressed as a boy) and when she put her hand in his, he shook it hard exclaiming something like, “This boy's as thin as a twig! I could snap you in half!” he laughed aloud. Unfortunately anything after that is very hazy to me so the Dream stops there.

If it were up to me to finish the story, here is how it would go: The gentleman (whom I've named Garrett) is looking for an assistant to help him in his workshop. He offers it to the lady (whom I'm naming Almond) and she takes it, seeing as she had a problem with unemployment. So she lives with him and spends time with him, which was troublesome seeing she still had to keep her gender a secret from him and she later realizes that she has feelings for him. This would turn out awkward since she's supposed to be playing a man. Garrett however seems to be displaying some sort of affection towards Almond, in a sense which confuses her – had Garrett discovered her secret OR was he actually interested in effeminate men?? Sergei (Garrett's wrestling friend) still doesn't know Almond's secret and thinks that Garrett's sudden attraction is disturbing. This could become a series!!!

. 15.02.11 the girl .

The surroundings remind me of my university campus – its unique, strange but beautiful architectural design and the river that stretches throughout the area – there were people there but faceless (as usual). The only people I could distinguish was a guy named Nabil, whom I work with in the university's newsletter, and a little girl, whom I've never seen before in my life. She looked caucasian, about 7-10 years old, with fair skin and light-colored eyes (though I don't remember if they were blue or brown). She was bald and was wearing a hospital gown and I remember she was quite thin. She had rosy, thin lips and a bright, innocent smile on her face.

What was so strange about this girl was that I recognized her as a really close friend of mine. I took to her like someone I was really fond of. Like a sister, but she was nowhere related to me in any way. I see her coming my way and I welcome her with open arms, hugging her tightly.

The Dream shifts and it is evening. I've been walking around the area and I realize that my two friends aren't with me. I start getting worried, especially for the little girl. I find Nabil's handphone all of a sudden and a text message from him saying that they were both locked in the freezer room. I find the room (somewhere in the campus) and unlock it. Its steel blue and frozen with ice and snow on the inside. It's a little dark but I can make out a circling staircase, that stops at the ceiling, and two figures sitting atop of it. I call out to Nabil and he stirs, his clothes covered by a thin layer of ice. The girl was climbing down the staircase and her skin was so pale, almost turning blue. I grab her first and take her out, worried that her sickness could have gotten worse. She was fine though. Just happy to see me.

Time passes and her skin starts to change. Dry sores appear on her head and face, which looked almost like bad, burnt marks but she keeps smiling as if nothing's wrong. I had a gut feeling that I wouldn't be seeing her after this so I took the moment as a farewell. I bent down and asked her to forgive me if I hadn't been able to take care of her that well. She giggles and I'm not sure if she said anything to me but it looked as if she said 'there was nothing to forgive', even as her sores were looking worse. Her smiling face made me feel better but I end up crying my eyes out.

I hug her bald head and say to her, “You're the most kind-hearted person I've ever met,” with tears in my eyes. I kiss her on her forehead and soon after that she is gone, shifting with the rest of my Dreams. I wake up with tears soaking my pillow.

I have never felt a love for a child as strongly as I had for this girl, whom I don't even know in real life. In the Dream, I felt as if I loved her with all my heart. Like a sister; like a friend; almost like a daughter even. And, unless God wills differently, I don't think I will see her again. But every time I picture her smiling face, with her bald head and little pearly whites, I will smile too.

.: day fourteen :.

picture perfect

hold me close; hold me tight

don't fidget too much darling

just a little to the right

you're beautiful baby

but why are you so shy?

you're picture perfect in my eyes

frames can't hold you

you're bigger than you know

you're a whole world to me and more

hold me close; hold me tight

cuddle close to me darling

and let me kiss you goodnight

. 29.01.11 zombie cure .

Ok, not your typical kick-ass zombie dream anymore OOOOOH NO. My Dreams HAD to get a little bit realistic. And by realistic I mean turn out in ways I didn't want them to but still expected it to otherwise. Anyhoddlyhoo, here's what happened. I'm at my old elementary school, only it still is a school and not the insurance office it was after the school shut down. There were still school kids and teachers I saw walking round and I was in the middle of the grounds minding my own business when all of a sudden the zombie apocalypse decided to happen then and there.

I didn't remember a lot of ppl being chased, cus it was weird how there were some ppl walking round casually, not fazed by the mauling or the massacre. I on the other hand was the first one to be jumped and got bitten too. On my right arm, between my wrist and elbow. I kicked the bugger away, which wasn't too hard, but now I was infected. The first thing that came to my mind was 'how am I going to draw NOW???'

Like instinct, I rushed to a place which looked like they could provide some cure for me. It wasn't some top-secret government lab or anything – just the school's main hall where these two women were hanging about. Don't remember what they look like distinctly now but I think one looked my old psychology lecturer from Foundation Studies (aaaaawkwaaaard..) but she was the one who suggested the cure. I was surprised they even HAD one. I had about 2 to 4 hours before I fully transformed so I wanted to try whatever they got.

The other woman got ready a mixture of fluids and poured a dark, aromatic liquid into a mug. She placed it in front of me. I look at it blankly and said, “This is just coffee.” The woman (who looks like my lecturer) perked up saying, “Oh just wait one second!” She reached for a shelf nearby and grabbed a hamster from a shoebox that was up there. She held the hamster like a doll, its tummy exposed and four limbs squirming. She squeezed the hamster slightly over my cup-o-Joe till. It. Pooped. They were putting frigging hamster poo in my coffee. That was the cure.

In my mind I said, 'weighing my choices I'd rather be a zombie and not be aware of eating disgusting gourmet than eating it in my right mind now...'