Heaven of Indulgence

A New Year

2012-01-29T23:43:00.004+08:00

Lets talk about the day spent at Universal Studios.

We went early as can be. Late of course by strict promise standards, but still earlier than the time of which the gates could open. And always in time for a quick breakfast. Very much like the preparation one takes before diving full force into a new start, but preparedness can never be perfect and one can never be fully prepared, but we give our best.

And diving in full force we did, because the insanely unforgiving flight of twist and turns was our maiden ride. The Cylon, or the blue roller coaster as we called it, lived out its legacy. It was intense and full of every imaginable ingenuity that makes your heart pump a hundred times faster with your pupils dilating with increasing ferocity at each swing of the uncompromising track.

Yet, despite all the rush in that two short minutes, time seemed to bend and stretch pass its chronological length. It was within those few moments did time seem to slow down for a fleeting second and in that very moment, your very position was revealed with unimaginable clarity. I was flying far above the park, overlooking the entire cityscape across the distance. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I wondered why I have never seen it in such light before.

And as quick as the moment came, it left to give way to a fog of mist that clouded your vision through a drop that felt like forever.

I wouldn't say it was deliriously frightening but it certainly was an experience that demanded your entire being. I left the ride walking a little bit wonky, but this first victory gave me the adrenaline for all the rides that followed in the day. I knew that with all my fear of heights, I conquered the craziest, and that assurance gave me the quiet confidence to brave the rest. It was with the lack of fear that the joy of each ride was made so much sweeter and the day at the park a complete delight.

Let that be the start of my new year, with God.

The Love of God

2011-12-31T12:52:00.000+08:00

There are a thousand different ways to express one’s emotions. Yet none could be better than doing it in a way that’s completely comfortable and comfortably personal.

So I sit here and write.

One of the most liberating moments for me is when I begin to recall of specific moments and instances in my little library of memories. I’d pull out a book and flip its dusty pages, crumbling with the sands of time and lightly inked with the illustration and words once forgotten.

The moment is one of worship. The page still freshly printed.

The auditorium had a certain quiet and calm. It has been a couple of minutes now and the heart of the song has slowly set in. The state of mind seemed rather unexplainable, indescribably perhaps. As if words alone have acknowledged in their failure to paint the image of what they saw. Vocabulary that felt seemingly inexhaustible suddenly ran short of breath and like a fainting spell that pierces in slow, forcing a new dimension of reality to be revealed. An epiphany into a completely new world, but that, only for a fleeting moment; a moment that shifts its weight like a wave, all around a state of consciousness and drifts just far enough before one loses it completely.

Yet there is this one girl that had seen it all.

She sat quietly at the foot of her seat. Her eyes closed with an equal amount of pain and comfort weaved together like the crossings of the finest linen. There was a certain disposition about the slight expression she harboured on her lips. It was neither placid not emancipating with joy, but a reflection of an impossible clarity of the situation that stood before her. Her heart was in complete surrender and her mind at absolut rest.

It wouldn’t have demand any attention at all, such a subtle contrite. Yet if one were to only focus a little longer than a few moments, something immensely alluring starts to kick in. It was not the posture, the music nor the combination of the two. It was something more, something deeply imperious yet benevolent at the very same time. There was a glow that pervaded the very physics of the visual sight piercing completely through a person’s eyes and deep into his or her soul. And arrests all that is within. Her story was a painful one, yet one that was made painfully beautiful in the many days that followed.

The experience of such love if explained any further would only be an injustice if not encountered. Such is the love that promises and guards, that makes nothing out of selfish ambition but esteems and assures even the dreariest of souls with a grace uncompromising and unending. Such a love is one that always chooses to persevere and hold on till the very end.

Such is the love of a very dear one I call God.

Out across the aimless sea.

2011-09-11T00:41:00.002+08:00

I feel like an island far far away.

Maybe I'm in search for something I've taken for granted and something I've always avoided.

I guess some perspectives need to be changed and some effort taken.

Maybe then my summer won't disappear.

But stay as long like it should, as it should.

Recapping the Summer

2011-08-04T19:35:00.002+08:00

And so the last three months flew by and school's starting again.

But one thing that proved most valuable to me was this one holiday I had. A holiday so different from any I've ever had, one that took me to beaches of Bali, to an incredible party with the greatest of company before cumulating at the breath-taking resorts of Bintan.

Bali.

I was told the sunrise at Nusadua was something of a charm and I shouldn't miss it for the world, even if that world of mine meant everything of sleep. Its description was perfect. The orange sky chasing away the dark of the night to give way to a morning splendor as the sun breathed life to cold beach, illuminating an endless horizon with a radiant glow. The daily miracle I'm afraid, would only remain but an elusive mystery to me as we missed all 3 days of its glory. We even missed the sunset.

But for the loss of such beauty, the long dinner nights made them up in full. Our last night saw us seated in the loveliest of settings while a duo on a square stage played to the tunes of slow rock. We sang along, laughed and chilled as the music filled the place. And when the night reached into a full, the closing song had two couples slow dance to its tune as we watched in quiet, the sweetness of such loving embrace. There and then, the trip was made perfect.

Singapore.

My Twenty First was nothing short of splendid. Not so much because of anything else as it were for the people who graced it. As though it was a paradox itself, the masquerade party was never a more intimate one I've had of a birthday since time in memorial. And never had I the privilege of having all the people I love gather together in a single place. It was beyond anything I could ask for; a dinner party, with the people I love.

Bintan.

The short family retreat was a real retreat from everything. I could simply be myself, completely. The walk to the long stretch of white beach proved more nostalgic than refreshing though I've never set foot to Bintan Island before. Yet the jetty that extended far into the waters from the pristine shore reminded me strangely of story I had come across in primary school. I snapped a few shots from a dying camera and spent the next day, crazy as it was, on a golfing course as my parents rushed to not hog the many others behind. We had a lot of fun rushing through a very slow game.

The night sky was an astronomic feast of the starry universe and I loved the quiet and tranquility of dinner by the beach. I was reminded over and over again the splendor of a God so big as I stared into an endless night sky laid with diamonds that tinkered from one end of the universe to another.

Its probably strange to have classified the life a vacation that spanned three islands over 3 separate time periods into a single term, but I thought otherwise. While the many others spent a great deal of their summer doing everything they wanted and liked, mine perhaps started only when the seasons of time had allowed of a short absence from work.

Nonetheless, I thank God and cherished every waking moment when those precious getaways sessioned. I've had my holiday and I'm glad I've had it in full.

Life & Liberty

2011-05-17T23:48:00.003+08:00

There were a ton of things I wanted to write in the last month but I think I'll settle for this.

The moment at Stevos.

It was the last time our class gathered as a whole for something other than lessons. It was our 'G5's Over It' dinner, the second time we've had it after the western art history exam, sort of like a tradition. We were not the most bonded group of people, but each of us had a special appreciation of each other and as a whole. I guess thats why the effort to come for this was exceptional. The turnout was higher than any class attendance record we've had for any class all semester, which was queerly laudable, but we all knew why.

We sat among two split tables at the restaurant's quaint side alley. It had character, the warm lights that bathed the tables and painted the surrounding decor in a chummy feel, coupled with an odd audio mixup had quietly charmed us from the madly humid night air. Maybe it was the company. I would stare up into the high walls and watch the laser lights dance to a hypnotic pattern every once in a while as I listened on the conversations. Like the little laser show, the topics of talk were all so predictable, yet it was completely impossible to know what the next sentence was or who it'll come from. And we always do have that innate ability to surprise and bring life to the weirdest of conversations. Its alluring, I must say, to listen to any of the things we talk about. We'd laugh and shout in disbelief at the things being said and yet at times, almost immediately go into a quiet reflection at some serious issues.

Not all of us are funny, but I've learn to see that everyone has a little gem in their character that I've grown deeply appreciative of. We started out as complete strangers to each other, sizing up and judging on first sight. Some quiet, some intimidating and some pretty bizarre. Slowly, we got to know and understand the uniqueness of each other. But therein lay a strange synergy that made the first year so tolerable and at times ridiculously fun, which apparently was quintessential of the class. That's probably why I find the mix of people in my class a most interesting one.

For that, we toasted to our having survived Year One. And of course a smaller side toast to our two dear casualties. One, we've lost hope and forgotten, the other we wished all the best for her amazing next four years in St. Martins. A dream we all wished to have had. Its been a lovely first year with a most lovely group of people. And I will miss them very dearly.

The good friday skate

2011-04-23T01:01:00.003+08:00

It was impossibly liberating. Gliding over the cold cold ice, amidst the crowds and the ever uneven surface. Weaving through the small pockets of spaces as the other skaters went round and round strangely made everything slow down immensely. It was as if the anti-clockwise rule on the rink miraculously defied the very momentum of time. And working its magic it did, lifting at last the long standing burdens of the past months and exchanging for it a profound repose as though nothing couldn't have mattered anymore than the present in itself. I was reminded then about a promise so dear, of a life so amazing, in the hands that held all eternity.

For there it was, a moment where the incomprehensible mystery of an everlasting showed a glimpse of its beauty.

And there and then, I felt completely free.

Jazz and my Reminisce

2011-02-22T23:16:00.004+08:00

It was an unlikely of nights to be looking through my old photos all over again. But there was an unquestionable calm as the jazzy notes and husky voice of Billie Holiday accompanied the ever glow of a morning sun busking through the photos of a long and once forgotten beach adventure.

I seem to forget quite a bit of things of late, or maybe its because I've been consciously looking back at the old. But whatever it is, I'm find myself little closer to appreciating the many beautiful things in life. And I think, thats exactly what I need to get away from an ever-present weary; to be free once again, to live and laugh and love.

JANUARY WANTS

2011-01-25T22:02:00.002+08:00

Right now, I feel as if I'm just waiting for something to happen. As if something great would come and sweep me off my feet into a new chase.

Christmas

2010-12-26T12:02:00.000+08:00

Today, my friend was brought to salvation. I know without a doubt and above all human understanding that such was not by the effort of any man, but of something far greater. And it could happen only because of God. I am amazed as I am grateful.

Merry Christmas =)

Let Rain Come

2010-11-30T18:42:00.004+08:00

Its pouring again. The rain has been unrelenting in its pursuit of achieving a state wide monotonus gloom. But this time, lightning too seems to have found its way into heaven's flood gates. Whipping the sky with flashes as if trying to tame a beast let out of its leash. I guess its working because the louder the thunders roar, the quieter the rain has been, reduced to a constant downfall, not heavy but not pattering either.

I always love an after-rain weather. The cool breeze that sweeps gently over the wet roads provides a fresh relief amidst an all tropic summer, while the roads themselves reflect the millions of colours that world has had and still has to see. All under that soft glare from a sun not so hidden amongst a palace of clouds.

A rain like this however, would last for hours. Not seeming to get any heavier and shows no intention of ceasing either. Just a continuous fall. Fall. Fall from the heavens.

But one by one, windows start to light up. First a small speck of yellow from a distance, then slowly spreading across the blocks that surround the courtyard. Like a symphony that builds up slow only to reach its spectacular finale was the how the lights played out. Giving life to a deaden and wet canvas of greys, blues and black. Giving hope more likely. Because for a moment it seemed as if the very will to hold on was revealing its countenance once again.

As if all that negativity painted nothing but a more remarkably beautiful portrait of everything positive. And I was reminded that I should begin to hope, once again.

The Prestige

2010-10-19T23:04:00.002+08:00

And just like magic,

This miracle happened.

Thank You God. =)

Disappearing Act.

2010-10-18T21:44:00.007+08:00

Strangely so, the many things that have been taken for granted

and how scary that the thought of it couldn't be more real than now.

I try to make it all up somehow, someway

That this miracle will come to pass.

And Thou Shalt Hath Ye Peace.

Soaking it all in.

2010-09-30T22:33:00.003+08:00

And I just sat there, taking it all in.

Because all of a sudden, everything seemed so perfect for that one moment.

The morning sun and the tranquil quietness that came from a certain peace despite the many conversations going on felt like the perfect reminder that was set orchestrated amidst the strangest of times. It was as if God was telling me all over again that there is so much beauty in life, And that I should stop worrying.

The wait for the bus was always as it had been, long. And the shelter started to fill with people, while the conversations grew and grew. The girls having life's important talk of everything that's going on, and the guys with their small talk about everything in life. And the words flew across like little sparrows darting about. I just sat in the middle of everything, not really wanting to talk, just very curious about everything else that was non-conversational.

Like a little kid distracted from the table talk of adults, turning my head in all directions to notice things and other people speaking. They say its rude to stare, but I'd love to just gaze for long periods at people talking and no one has ever minded me doing so, ever. Maybe its because I never really look at them. I just look and try to feel everything that is going on around me.

It was one of my little moments where I'd retreat from talking and just listen, not words spoken, but to those equally important but unspoken. The jovial smiles of the more expressive and subtle displays of happiness of those shyer. The awkwardness of those having nothing to say but feeling obliged to. And strangely the relaxed indifference of how the bus was going to make everyone late. Because everyone was.

It hit me then, that it didn't help to worry because glee didn't come from the pleasantness of things not going wrong, but how they just work out in the end, and the beauty of it. How delightful it was, such a simple revelation in all of life's complexity.

And I just sat there, taking it all in.

Because all of a sudden, everything seemed so perfect for that one moment.

I want That.

2010-08-09T09:56:00.004+08:00

I opened the box of alfajors and asked her to pick any one she wanted. She looked at me with a look not quite taken aback but one that was slightly curious. Then like the speed of how everything happened, a glimmer of playfulness filled her eyes as she pointed to the plush lion I was holding in my completely forgotten left hand and said, I want That.

Now, I was the one completely taken aback as I stared at the toy, utterly unsure of what to say. That was unexpected I thought. Even on hindsight now, I am sure I would have still given the same dumbfounded look. But I suppose that moment was amusing in its own right. She laughed and gave the sweetest smile before assuring me she was pulling my leg.

So what are they? She asked.

Argentine cookies. I said. An answer I myself am not entirely convinced for the alfajors didn't seem to fall under any particular category. They were half biskits, cake-like chocolate coated milk caramel from half-way round the world. They were all neated wrapped in printed aluminium foil and stacked squarely next to each other. I picked out the last remaining champagne grey wrapped alfajor and gave it to her saying that that was my favourite.

She asked if I went to Argentina. The question sparked an avalanche of memories and moments to come flooding back. It didn't help that a whole week of stressed out work made me miss my experience there even more that ever. The people, the places and the culture had a mesmerising hold on me and I couldn't seem to let go of it just yet.

Yes.. I was there for two weeks. I smiled and replied, as if to reassure myself at the same time that such was the freedom and experience I was fortunate to have a taste of.

She smiled affectionately and we said our goodbyes as I left to join the others waiting outside.

Oh my, I do miss Argentina dearly.

And Co

2010-05-02T23:56:00.003+08:00

My heart is dying to write it all out.
But everytime I stare straight into all that white,
the rush stops short and I find myself in absolut scrutiny of my words.

The music ignites that little urge to channel all that feeling
into something other than the endless looping of choruses.
And every picture I see leads back to the same place,
like how all roads led to Rome. Somehow, someway.

I do know for sure that this little period of mindlessness,
the partial nonchalance and the head over heels feeling I get
is much more than a simple feeling. Its like a storm that
builds up slow and sweeps you completely off your feet by the end.

Its honestly, quite messy even in my head, much more in my heart.
So I don't really try to understand the whole, thought process, anyway.
Untangle my words, if you can.
But I think I'm loving it.

Surrender

2010-05-01T22:41:00.003+08:00

Everything that I wanted and have been praying for suddenly seemed to come all in one week. And that was way more than I could have ever imagined.

My week proved much more than any other. Not just because of the sudden change in arrangements of a long sought after stay-out, but of a tonne of other things that sudden seemed to rush out as if from a dam which had stayed shut for too long. The immensity of emotions and happenings that cried their daily tune of attention took thier toll.

Its simple to say "trust in God" but it takes every bit of you to say that, to mean it and to do it and hold absolutly nothing back. Giving everything that you'd ever known or found security in and trust in God. For it demanded everything from me, three nights of prayer just to open my heart and be obedient. The abandonment of the thousands of thoughts that ran through made it even more painful to bear, and it was by no random guess that when a dear sir pointed out the hanging dreariness upon my countanance, he was right.

And it took the whole week for me to understand in full that it didn't really matter whether what my heart yearned could magically match His will for me. It mattered more to God that I was willing to give it all up and put Him first. And only when I had done what I should, did the answers come. And come it did, in full glory and once even in a quiet release.

And it was then that everything that I wanted and have been praying for suddenly seemed to come. All in one week and that was way more than I could have ever imagined.

Quiet

2010-04-11T15:30:00.008+08:00

The heavy notes play in slow rythm as the afternoon heat sets in. A slight breeze sweeps gently through, the leaves of the eugenias dance along while the palms sway to the mellow beat of the quiet happenstance. It was one of those days where the melancholy of the afternoon complimented its other lazy side perfectly and the intensity of it struck a perfect balance between an ascertain passivity and a subconscious circumspect.

And I close my eyes to take it all in. The quietness of a summer afternoon that had been gone for too long. Disappearing from the hectic schedules of a perpetual pursuit of a certain liberty that was lost, and now coming back, sauntering in perfect unision with everything around it. I smile knowing that once again it hasn't been too far away at all, and what a fool I was to have missed it all this time.

A gentleness of an absolut presence draws closer and presses in to deeper recesses. And once again, all else fades away slowly and quietly.

But thats exactly what I need to do.

2010-02-15T00:57:00.004+08:00

They told me that I should never blog about it.

The cool breeze greeted my face as the heat of the afternoon started to set in, and everything on my counternance was relieved for a moment. The heaviness and pressure seemed a little distance away, as if I was reminded that all the worries and concerns goes only so far.

And if it wasn't for the ridiculous nature of a crappy teaching coupled with the most detrimental of words, I would have been smiling perfectly. I don't deny what's true.

But ruinous as such an on going experience may seem, it finally came to me -in a more positive and gentle way of course- that such was a desperate measure adpoted by the self-assertive individuals of a more dominent system that deludes itself of a far better tomorrow. And that I should simply rise above it. For little in height can such abject circumstances be allowed to have.

Before I continue I'd like to apologize for the angsty words that seem to colour this page. But like I said, I don't deny what's true. =)

So for the next few days, I made myself a promise. That since little will change about the way things are, I will change. And change I did, the first step was the most comforting. To know that who you are stems from who made you. To have a Godly confidence in who you are, not what people say you to be. The next step was a personal favourite, nonchalence. I love being nonchalent, because I honestly cannot commit to memory the words that come forth from the mouths of those that prove themselves as weightless as their words. And it gives me a third person's perspective, one that I need ever so often.

And when I've done all that I could, I found peace is perhaps best appreciated amidst a calamity of circumstances. And I thank God for everything, in everything.

They told me that I should never blog about things in my week,
but that's exactly what I need to do.

Morningside

2010-02-07T01:36:00.005+08:00

Morningside

I was told that the sun shone with little light rays across the foilage all of a sudden. And that I shouldn't miss a moment as fleeting as this.

The Dance

2010-01-02T23:21:00.003+08:00

Of the Perfectly clumsy and the Clumsily perfect.

Every new year, the question of resolution never fails to be asked.
Likewise, I was asked. But I had no answer there and then.

It made me ponder what people normally set for themselves. Standards and Goals that they want to achieve, images that they'd embrace and smile to themselves and say "Yes, I want to achieve that." And then it hit me that so many of the resolutions I've stood out to achieve before and those that people have constantly tried to enforced have all these while been so, superficial.

When charms and beauty that elevate
and makes everything seem so perfect,
so alluring and ever so coverteous.

We'd fly into what we do not know
nor fully understand and say that it is only right.
To pursue all that is necessary and prestigious,
All that is floundering with excitement and spells fun.
Promises the one thing that we seek ever so earnestly for,
yet delivers the very theft of it.

Life.

So quickly and foolishly we strife
be achieve perfection in every sense
that the world has set the definition for.
Only to realise that what a trap we've fell for,
to have finally become perfectly clumsy.
For charms are deceptive and beauty, fleeting.

The dance repeats,
as the perfectly clumsy us
fall for it over and over.

And when we get so sick of the prodigal in us
we turn to seek the very One whom we've left.
We'd cry and cry and look up only to be embraced.
All that is truly beautiful spells nothing else but beauty,
promises the theft of a saviour greater than no other,
then the sacrifice that lasts our earthly existance,
but delivers the very thing that may seem taken.

Life.

So quietly and slowly we step forward
to begin a journey that ends in union
and, the ever elusive, perfection.
Only to realise what a treasure we've fallen for,
to have finally become, in our clumsiness, perfect.
For wisdom is priceless and beauty, unbounded.

The dance repeats,
as the clumsily perfect us
fall for Him over and over.

The very Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T01:09:00.002+08:00

I would love to have been in the centre of it all to enjoy the lights and carols all around. To be in the very heart of the very commericialised season, somewhere staring at the mezmerising decorations in orchard road. It makes the feeling of christmas ever so much closer and gives you that thrill of a holiday everyone has anticipated ever so long for. I very much have been missing christmas for most parts of the year.

But a good talk in the veranda over simple peaches and maybe some tea was more than very much in itself to welcome in this very special day. Afterall, I guess baby Jesus was born in a little manger on a quiet night some very far place away, but the celebrations in the hearts of those present and in heaven were none the less the greatest there ever could have been.

Merry Christmas. =)

Once upon a december

2009-12-20T01:47:00.003+08:00

It was almost surreal.
The long walk in a midnight rain, brolleys standing high and swinging wildy every once in awhile. Our little hunt for supper seemed pretty much futile when the owners of the cafe had to turn us down with much regret of a closing goodbye. But suprisingly, there was hardly any disappointment on any of our part. I guess we had almost completely placed it all aside when we took the first step out and looked up at the way the heavens poured its heart out.

An hour's time found ourselves in a badly lit lan shop on a second storey shop house, hacking away zombies while completely ignoring the freezing cold.

Two hours time found ourselves back home and supper from instant noodles. The water boiled constantly throughout while we just sat around. And that was when we just talked and talked the night away about love and life and everything else that revolved around.

Everything we did seemed of little significance at all that night. The absurb long walk in the rain, trying hard to fight off countless hordes of zombies and cooking at the quietest time of the morning. It seemed for that six hours, company was all that mattered, company that was sincere and without the very many holds I was used to.

The Visit.

2009-11-30T22:33:00.003+08:00

She took a small mouthful, then squirmed a little in her expression as she pulled the spoon back from her lip and swallowed hard. Aunt Inok's reaction was as polite as she could control it, yet truthfully honest when she took that second glance at the white that filled her bowl. Annet and Adeline let out a child-like laughter as they saw her reaction after the momentary quiet.

Too sweet, she said.

Replying my question if she didn't like it.

Annet rushed to take the spoon from her mum immediately. Curious to taste what something that look so bland produce such a colour of repulse. Pulling her scarf that she had been fiddling with over her neck, she reached into the bowl and then as quick as she was, took a generous mouthful of it. It took less than a second for her to produce the exact same reaction as her mum.

This time, my parents and I too, joined in laughing with Adeline whose look and absolut quiet after her first taste of this strange white desert called Almond Cream, started the whole taste and react series.

I was subtly taken aback for it was the most popular desert in the house and a personal favourite of mine (something I'd crave to eat during weekdays) after a long time and a somewhat period of conditioning. But then I recalled and told aunt Inok, that I too didn't look too different the first time my dad ordered it for me.

The very next morning, she confessed over our breakfast conversation that she had a little craving to have another bowl of it again. The genuity, undoubted, as aunt Inok was quite surprised by her very own words.

Seriously?, I laughed.

Ah, the queerness of a ridiculous desert detour the night before paid off in full. And my little recommendation didn't go so bad after all.

Coffee by the city walk.

2009-11-22T00:16:00.003+08:00

Coffee by the river walk

The soft touch of the sunshine that spilled quietly over the canopy, flowed over the edge of the breakfast table coupled with the coversations all across made the walk all the worth. Maybe it was the oddities of an american breakfast or the strangely comforting presence of a laid back veranda. Or maybe perhaps the sincerity of comments and smiles that were exchanged, of hellos and goodbyes and all the thank you so muches.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the liberty of a free spirit that broke from its little emotional bondages, set to finally run free admist the sleepiness of the city and the many many miles that ran down the riverwalk.

Writings

2009-09-27T00:52:00.003+08:00

Going through the motion.

I've always thought it was normal, and neccessary in fact to have a routine. It gives some sort of purpose, a meaning in what you do, an itinery, something that keeps you occupied. After all, we humans tend to create routines for ourselves, habitualising things until what seems almost unnatural becomes so natural to us.

That was until the day I broke my routine.
Took an extra bus ride for half an hour to watch planes fly free, sat and pondered and talked to God. I felt free for that one hour. And then lived life like how I'd always did in the last year.

Nothing wrong with waking up at 6 in the morning everyday to brush your teeth and have breakfast. Nothing wrong with dragging yourself to work and study everything people say you have to know. Going through each day doing all the neccessary, and then everything else that give you that measure of fun and excitment for the few hours you have left before you go to sleep at 11pm.

But that is exactly what the devil seeks for everyone to do. To monotonise everything and yet keep you excited in all that monotony, promising you with the occasional indulgent reward after yet another cycle of anxiety and worry of crossing a hurdle.

Only then it becomes clear that there is everything wrong with frowning over the same worries, regretting the same bad decisions and singing the same song. Only then it becomes fully clear that the little life and abundant joy in the things that you once seeked is slowly snuffed out as you replace that Source of Joy with insignificant thrills that promised so much fun yet delivered so little, lesser and lesser each time.

It took me a little more than a year later to find out that God seeks to break routines everday. Worship is never the same each time with God, so is every little conversation you have with Him. Everytime He reveals something new to you, the immense excitement and joy that astounds you is never quite the same, every experience with Him is completely different.

Thats why I suppose Jesus never walked the same route twice, nor did his disciples. The very present moment we have now, was never and will never be similar and the beauty and joy of that simply takes my breath away. Thats why I suppose everytime we visit a new place or a new country, we see things in a new light. We love to see something new, to experience something different but could never quite understand why, much less explain it. Some even concluded and blame that we are simply too uncontented and can never be satisfied.

The truth is if nothing on this earth can truly satisfy us, then most probably, we were not built for this world. So for those seeking to simply go through the motion, do all that you can to find a deeper meaning and purpose, and know that only God can give you that.

And then nothing will ever be quite the same again.

Little Reflections of Life

2009-09-06T22:28:00.000+08:00

The Disappearing Act

The last few months of stagnation in writing has somewhat made me a little boy with very much suppressed emotions. Mostly because I simply feel and forget, but never really getting it off my chest. And so when the little talk or mention about a certain period or group of people that I particularly found rather distasteful came to be the topic of a conversation, I do grab the chance to rant quite alot. An Annoying Load Of Trash rather. Very unorganised clutters of speech and complaints that would make a conversation rather spasmic, if ever there was such a term for it. I do pity my friends when they have to put up with that.

But more importantly I guess, the last 3 months or so have been quite an experience. No doubt I did happen to be in contact with a very many mindless and self-seeking dimwits, I too did chance upon some pretty amazing individuals. People who I do really have a great deal of respect for. God did tell me that it would be a great battle, and it was. My mind would fight constant daily battles against warped morals and detestful social behaviour as I try very hard to put things in perspective. It was never an easy task waking up every morning to something like that. It was during these few months that I found out how really annoying people can actually be. Nicety is Always out of the question for such people. The harder part, was forcing myself to not reciprocate the rubbish thrown at me, even in my thoughts.

And so, bittersweet or not, I'm thankful God has seen me through such a season. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure, the previous paragrah would be alot longer and more angsty too.

A two week break from routine, coupled with quietly charming movies like UP and countless deep and heart-felt conversations, made me think quite a fair bit about life. Oh how really myopic are we when we constantly blow up life out of proportions in comparison to the things that we should truly be focusing on. It took a cartoon to remind me that we should always seek after less worldly ambitions and close friends to show me how,

A backpack trip to Europe for a month was on the drawing board.
One with adventure and charm,
of cobbled streets and narrow water lanes,
of French crusine and a little Italian accent,
of a daily spectrum of fashion and unabashed confidence.

Maybe then, things would seem to be viewed the very way one should really view it.
Maybe then, taking a break to clear our heads would finally seem practical.

Maybe someday, we'd all have our little disappearing acts too.

OCS

2009-06-20T14:41:00.002+08:00

And when it finally boiled down to thinking about it, Scary, is pretty apt a word to use.

Not so much about the ever stricter regimentation or the apparent lower lifeform demotion, but somewhat more of an uncertainty. That, and worry plagues me ever since I saw the posting results. Yes, while Pride is more of the word people like to say I should embrace, pride is least likely the thing to set my mind at peace for now.

A short talk with God seemed to tweak my perspective a little. Not a new one, but an old one rather. One that constantly sets my focus right and serves to remind. We all have a mission, a great commission. The little trouble I seem so concerned over is but secondary, or auxiliary.

And so I asked, which would be the tougher challenge?

Wrong. Which would be the one you'll embrace more?

That was the reply, the question, shot back.

Not uncommon was being in a world where people have little regard for religion. Self centeredness takes dominance be it blatently or under a pretense and self righteousness would dance with it, a perfect tango.

How then will such see the Light should my focus continue to dwell with dealing with the hardships that I fear so selfishly?

And so, when it finally boiled down to thinking about it, Scary, is pretty apt a word to use.
Scary is why this little mentality of mine, must be changed.

The Grand Parade

2009-06-06T10:31:00.003+08:00

The Grand Parade

The endless practices of re-runs after re-runs, seasoned with an impeccably poor command of the English language and scorched by the mid-day heat. Everything for a moment where the caps fly high, in the battalian square.

A moment where freedom seems to be found at last, or somewhat of it at least, was all that had been in our minds since the very start. It was like a goal that seemed pretty much like gold, common in everyone's heart and priceless even in the very thought of it. But we were warned, things and emotions seem to take a very much about turn at that point. Now that we've got our little feel of liberty and out of a regimentation that was so common an enemy, So what? Like any gold rush, history seems only to keep a record of the excitement and uproar of the frenzy, maybe even a death toll, but pays little or no attention to the details like who actually struck it rich.

That thought lingered around the whole day, injecting a sense of nostalgia like negative feedback everytime excitement hits an overdrive in me. Maybe it was the endless rows or men in green, standing tall and proud that all this is over that reminds me of how all that I'm starting to get used to and maybe taken for granted is coming to end. The smiles serve only to mask hidden ties of brotherhood lost after months of delicate crafting.

The question was posed to my commander by a good friend, asking if he'll miss us. He talked about always turning emotional at the final cheer, laughed about it and then said he was joking only to turn around quick with eyes welling up. Perhaps the colour in his eyes was only a reflection of the crimson on his shirt, but we all knew, as hard as we might try to deny at first, that somewhere, somehow, there is something we'll find ourselves missing and missing quite bad.

The boat ride back kept me thinking of the people and the things we'd normally do. The fun and sheer stupidity of our actions at the brink, when we have all lost it, playing back like a little movie. To miss is not wrong, to miss and regret however, would be. To cherish little moments would then make enjoying a seemingly unenjoyable time, justified.

So then on that day itself, when the caps fly high, they fly not only because it marks an end to being bald and its pathetic entails, but because the best was made out of a time where "enough" would surfice be it in scores or even tests, but that of friendships as well. Perhaps then the seemingly insignificant parade to many now, would finally become, Grand.

Why we act they way they do.

2009-05-01T12:18:00.002+08:00

18 days on an island that faces the rage of an unforgiving mid-day Sun, yet the most beautiful sunrises and twilights has shown me many things.

One of the many I've learnt is perhaps the very reason of how society is what it is, despite being in a community that lives in near absolut solitude from where its values seem to have been derived. The complexity and apparent perpetual accumilation of human flaws, ticking like clockwork fuctions exactly like a lubricant to this society. Not a society to be proud of, but of one that we've uncomfortably, grown comfortable with.

This little island has served only to maginify what a dear body tries so desperately to mask and reason, and thankfully simplified everything to the point of porridge for those who still can't understand. Not that many will or even try to anyway.

An impressive hierachy has set in place a system of near absolut authority, like a carrot and stick analogy, just one that it is much more sly and carrots are but near illusions. It seems than that a dog seems the closest term to describe the behaviour that one is expected to become under any authority higher than his. Sadly to say this however, is only the tip of the iceberg.

The other ninety percent of what is actually far more fraustrating, is strangely a lot more subtle and yet alot more lethal. Not the ability to be a thinking individual (because we all know that is written for the sake of preventing further questions) but rather the inability to stand for anything. Proving the point simply that if you stand for nothing, you fall for everything.

To look on the bright side however, this whole mess seems to be confined only to anything man made possible high. Any higher however, is untainted and left completely pure, keep a promise of hope to those that struggle in existance on the ground. Like how a breath-taking sunrise takes the monotony and pain off a mindless march back from breakfast.

My bunk

2009-04-12T00:37:00.007+08:00

I don't normally do photo collages.
But these are those who will share my bunk. People whose smiles will mean more than gold, more than anything else. Smiles that will be encapsulated in colours that paint a thousand words.

IKEA

2009-04-10T23:00:00.007+08:00

Visit IKEA every month, buy the one funky item with an outrageous colour that catches your eye, however ostentatious it maybe. Trust me, you'd have a very cool room in one year.

That was beacuse I saw this lime green trash tin.

It was absolutly uneccessary. And I had no need of a lime green trash can. But it looked like just about the best thing to buy there. So I tried to show my dad how such a ridiculous thought can be even fabricated in my little mind. I told him of the wonders of where I could place the trash tin that was so wonderfully green. It could serve as a laundry bin or even a newspaper and magazine bin. It could serve a lot of functions and just about anything. But most importantly, it looked vintage and really cool.

He gave me an unconvincing smile, laughed and walked on. I stood taken aback for abit and then dropped the idea completely.

What completely baffaled me however, was how my whole family was just 5 metres away from the exit but took an amazing 20 minutes to move that distance. During that time, everyone except my mum were looking at things completely uneccessary but completely justifiable should they be bought. Things like fake flowers and white rugs.

Then I realised, I wasn't the only one that has itchy hands and a reason to buy things. An empty trolley being pushed around in IKEA is a licence to shop. Something about it empowers us to grab what we like off the shelves. The low prices and just about everyone around doing the same Does Not Help. Not one bit.

All I wanted were 10 hangers for camp and before I knew it, my mum was pushing an emtpy trolley.

I love IKEA.

Working for sweets.

2009-03-31T16:07:00.005+08:00

And so, she was rudely taken aback when I told her with all sincerity that I was working for free. Apparently, there was a slight screw up in the administration and I can't be paid for the day.

Volunteer work, I call it. Totally involunteery, she implied.

Auntie Cynthia sat me down for the next 5 minutes or so explaining to me that I should insist on claiming my wage, or not tell them I'm gonna walk out and leave. Just like that. Of course, she said it had to be their fault for not being informed before calling me down for work. I wasn't too sure if that was exactly what happened earlier on, but her speech made it all too convincing, as though she saw it for herself and experienced it first hand before. Even I, who knew things were definately much more complicated was completely swayed by her argument and nod my head in agreement. Too focused at all to comment or say otherwise.

Everyone in that room who heard, turned and darted their eyes between me and her and then finally settleling a focused look at all that was to be said.

Nostalgia grippped me in that instant and took me back to childhood. When advice was needed to be said and experience re-lived, all that was said, was said exactly like how it was now. When my Aunt Cynthia was still staying with us and my teacher, Ms Vanessa Desilver all spoke in one language. It was what they said that brought a certain sense of security and relief when problems were all laid out and counsel sincerely sought. I always thought grown-ups would speak in such flare, such tone and genuine concern over little issues that seemed a bother but awaken with such colour and life through their words and speech. I was wrong obviously, and as I stopped my tuition and my aunt eventually bought a new house, the influence softened its hold and faded into obscurity.

It wasn't until the start of the year, that my office seemed a magnet for people with an english vibe saw the congregation of folks that seemed to have all grown up in a neo-colonial neighbourhood. It was different yet strangely familiar and totally welcoming in a subtle sense. That was also why I'm the only one that addresses Mrs Chong as Auntie Cynthia. I said it felt more comfortable since I've always been used to calling that name. She smiled but I didn't think she understood fully why.

I've always missed my childhood and that moment, where all fell silent and only one voice spoke, gave way to a sudden ephipany of a feeling I dearly missed. And I knew that volunteer work or not, I was already paid in full.

Spanglish

2009-03-29T00:40:00.001+08:00

I wanna learn

Spanish or French
or anything else that allows me to speak really fast, and sound really cool.

Bali.

2009-03-21T02:42:00.003+08:00

Ayodya took me by surprise. Its vast openess and chilled out balinese concept with a lobby that overlooked a resort that could probably be used to flim the next tomb raider, was everything that I could have ever imagined in a Asian tropic. I was in Bali.

Apart from all the cheap food and stuff that seem to fill every little corner of Kuta beach, it was pretty much everything I'd expected. The narrow streets filled with countless shops, most with little effort placed in to look anything extravant or posh. The normality of course would be a constant upgrading of glamourised streets as tourists flood the island every year. Their concept was much simpler, use the shop, earn the money, feed the family. I could never grasp my head aroud that concept before I arrived, but then it hit me when we started roaming down the many side lanes in seach of things to buy. We had no idea what we wanted, we just wanted people to sell us something worth buying. That itself was tough, expectations grew larger while, what was offered became less attractive especially away from the prime district. But it was in such a side street that I noticed the Aussies going bearfoot and smiling as they walked along, as though it was an escapade to all that commericalism in Surfer's Paradise. It was then that the laid back atmosphere was really what kept Bali so authentic all this while. What kept its flavour as a beach town. What kept people coming back.

Don't believe me, but I'm not lying when I say it was only our last day there that we actually saw the sea and the awesome beach that came alongside with it. What on earth were we doing before that? White-water rafting, sight seeing and a whole bunch of time sleeping in the car from place to place. Our first sight of the beach and then WE, asked ourselves that ridiculous question too. Why on earth did we only come here the last day. Haha, but still non of us regretted, the inland experience was way better than what we had bargained for.

In short, everything about Bali, its beauty and its beaches are all pretty much true. The water is clear even at 5 feet deep and the serenity that encapsulates you in this tropical paradise was something that was rare. I wouldn't say it was a typical Bali experience, we did avoid alot of places that were the popular tourist attractions not because we wanted to, but because a series of events somehow skewed our experience to become something more unique. I didn't see the Kuta beach sunset or the Market in Uboot, but what I saw, I kept, some in pictures, but most in memory, and all of it in a perfect little reason to make this excuse.

The excuse to go back to Bali again.

TRY

2009-03-05T19:00:00.005+08:00

I'm not sure if you've ever felt something like this. The feeling of having to move on but not wanting to leave it all behind. Moving on to something new in life, to stop work, to kick off my slippers by a beach in Bali. And to deal with the sudden rush of emotion and memories that flood you on the last week of work. Some people call it retiring,
and I've not even started my career.

Yes it is strange, but the combination of events, coincidences, chances, people and places have suddenly found me lying on my bed, thinking of all this, and yes, making me feel old.

It seems in all honesty that the school, my school, where I work seems to have started this snowball of emotions I seem to have everyday now. However many different weathers of scorching sunshine or blue cloudy skies that have come and gone in the past two months, the only constant depiction I have of my school in my little memory bank would be a quiet one. A large school compound where school's over and few people are left. The sky would be partially overcast, but never giving in to rain and time would just seem to stop, right there. The high pitched screams or the joyous shouts of a few seemed almost a stark contrast to the absolut quiet, but never fully matching the muted vibe of everything.

That little image would be the perfect description of my entire two months here. I came for a new experience and strangely, got a lot more than what I bargained for. Although the school has undergone almost a complete change of students, the new faces never fail to constantly remind me of what life was when I was still studying there. Apart from the staff room, every little corner seem to be bursting with memories, for nothing has seemed to change. Not at all.

I've always asked my friends if they've ever met someone and feel as though they've somehow known the person for a very long time. They look extremely familiar yet, you're unable to pin point extact to whom they remind you of. You can almost predict their behaviour towards certain things, how they'd walk, how they'd talk. Something like a more subtle yet perpetually dragging form of déjavu. And you know obviously, that you don't know that person at all.

And I've been getting that quite a lot, ever since I've started my work. Its no surprise that the school always has a bigger influence on its students than vice-versa, and no matter how many batches of students pass, St. Hilda's Secondary would always be St. Hilda's Secondary, unlike any other school. Volleyball boys would always behave in a certain manner and netball girls can never be mixed up with volleyball girls, for they just have a certain distinct look. The students would always be in a certain sleepy headed nonchalance during asembly and a select few would always speak to teachers the way students always have in this school. Secondary one, twos, threes, fours and five all would have a unique behaviour, distinct to their level but the same for every year. How Sec threes would always behave like this no matter what the batch is.

So its no surprise really that when students ask me if I feel old, I reply with them with a blatent Yes. A ridiculous answer to a somewhat ridiculous question. And please don't ask me why they ask such questions, I really don't know.

The nostalgia is unavoidable and it might be a lot worse when eventually,
I would have to bid them all, goodbye.

School's cool!

2009-02-24T23:49:00.002+08:00

School's been pretty entertaining. Very, actually.

Having my name shouted across the corridoors in amusing variations just to say a little goodbye makes certain days feel all the more worth it. I'd stop and stare, laugh and say goodbye back.

Apart from nonsensical stress and contant shocks - of how the smaller people come, the louder they get - its been treating me very well infact. Meaning and purpose are like blessed fruit that bear forth when I decided to trust God and say, "okay, lets give it a shot.".

Then I get myself into more things I'd didn't plan for and see that its actually very beautiful. Like how a dropby at the Christian fellowship made me see what I've overlooked all this while. A well of potential and students who have taken the first step. Indirectly waiting for someone to guide them along this new journey.

And of course, class has been bittersweet. The kids are unbelievably some of the nicest people, their imbalance of energy and attention span (or lack thereof) however, leaves alot to be deisred. Which surprisingly, makes it all the more meaningful. The countless ups and downs in the classroom - to make sure everyone is okay - would be the Standard operation Procedure. Whats not the SOP is 20 guys camping in the toilet on the way to D&T and waiting for me to chase them out. Its quite retarded but very amusing really. And no, all hell is not loose in class, no matter how noisy they get.

Its not really hard to understand why.

Because things change when the recess bell rings,
For hell hath no fury like long queues at the canteen stalls.

Suddenly I see

2009-02-07T11:16:00.003+08:00

There was a heavy feeling after the amzaingly short yet overly long busride. Its not something I normally get when I oversleep on a bus, usually, I don't even oversleep.

The walk home was pretty pleasent in a sense I wasn't fraustrated at myself for wasting such time especially cos I've another appointment in an hour. Rather, with every step I took, the heavy reluctance slowly crept in and made just not want to go for cell at all. Yes, my next appointement was cell and was very far away. It was a strange sort of feeling as though I hadn't let something go fully throughout the day, so much that I wouldn't want to look forward to anything else at all.

I went anyways.

The beginning of cell last night was chatty. People were talking about their long awaited freedom and those bursting with joy at finally getting it back couldn't stop smiling and laughing. The jokes, the fun and the laughter. I was particularly reserved, just watching and putting on the occasional smile to appease. It was akin to watching a happy ending of a movie that has been muted and hearing absolut silence. Not saying, not participating, just watching.

It was only later that I realised the tone of the whole gathering was to drop so low and very solemn. It was as though God has been preparing my heart for such a Word the whole time. Stilling it, and forcing me to think deep at an intance's notice. What was shared was mind blowing to some, a revelation to the written word and a wake up call to those who chose to fall alseep.

For me, it was more of a summary to year long study and pursuit of God. With greater emphasis of parts that I missed or overlooked and then hitting back hard on the whole purpose of it all. To put it more simply, I was shown the glory a bigger picture of a painting whose parts I've been scrutinising with a myopic vision.

His first question to us at the beginning was if we knew God's will for us.

Joel taught us how to find it, it was placed comfortably at the start of Romans 12.

Then he posed to us a challenge, in which no one would not attempt. For its consequences are grave beyond words and its rewards, reach into the high heavens.

Suddenly I see, more than just what was placed on the table. More then I've ever seen. For the divine purpose of God's will is working perfectly into play, as it has always been all along with imperfect people making choices with their given freedom, and slowly weaving the grandest of master pieces.

I went home last night knowing that I was least of all shortchanged, but out-given by a God whose perfection and generosity we can never fully fathom.

Missing America

2009-02-05T00:09:00.005+08:00

It was the pictures. Definately those pictures.

The albums after albums, red, pink, green, yellow and blue. Five in all, The pink was an eye opener while the blue was the best. I had to ask all the questions about Santa Monica, cos our first day (2nd last day of tour) after splitting ways with them was a particularly grim and dampy one, while they seemed to have a much different tale to tell.

"The food there was awesome, the one opposite our hotel." She pointed.

"Please don't tell me thats crepê..." I was thinking in my head.
The words of course came out much different, and alot more like,
"Wow is that crepê you had?"

The quick nod was accompanied with a lovely smile.
I squealed.

The best page of all was probably a few pages back, the one where the pictures re-told everything on the night it snowed. The snowball fight, how we kept fattening up the already fat snowman with freezing bare hands. And the unceasing snow that kept falling, not so much like a blizzard but with gentleness more of a Christmas miracle.

It then started to hit me that I really missed my trip for more than what it was. It was being somewhere and feeling everything that place had to offer. Not thinking about things from somewhere else, or a thousand miles away. But enjoying all that was present in all its entity.

That was why I missed America so so much. Why I'd lie on my bed and reminise or sit in class and stare blankly out of the window or experience that sudden rush of nostalgia when I see california on TV. Not because its liberal laws calls it to be a free land, but because the company and the places there were the very keys that helped set the little worried and troubled portion of my mind,
Free.

Wowed

2009-02-01T22:09:00.005+08:00

Every once in awhile, I love to be awed.

Treasure in a field

2009-01-31T11:17:00.005+08:00

"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and hid; and for joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field."
- Matt 13: 44

Everyday, we sell off a little of what we have, whatever the currency, to obtain little treasures in life which we hold on dearly to. In the financial market place, the only currency mostly used are bank notes and credits or gold. In a more subtle market, where trade goes on every moment, with prices valued even higher and everything changes hands ever so quickly, anything can be a currency. Time and souls are obviously the best. Worth more than any gold or precious gems than anyone could ever imgaine, but ever so often used so indiscriminately to exchange for things worth a miniscule of what was offered.

Recently, I found a treasure that I'm still holding on to dearly. A book, a canvas for a man's thoughts so brilliant, one must think his gift was indeed divine. That I do not dispute, for obvious reasons. While beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, not every beholder has a knack of charity. But neither is anyone born with such a heart of charity. Far too many people whom I know seem to protect their little treasures they have, guarding them with great hostility and fear.

Maybe perhaps the greatest gift of all, would be the Treasure of Treasures. That when a man finds it, he sells off every last possession, every thing, trades every dollar, every cent just so to keep it. The more he holds it dearly, the more he finds himself giving it away because of the abundance it brings that overwhelmes the storehouses of a man heart. Then every little treasure he once possessed, becomes greatly revalued, many losing theirs completely while some having so much, not wanting to share it would be impossible.

Charity than, would be not so much a sacrifice than a gift to oneself. A joy that was bought a cost so high, to give up everything for it, would only be the least of all prices.

''If we insist on keeping Hell (or even earth) we shall not see Heaven: if we accept Heaven we shall not be able to retain even the smallest and most intimate souvenirs of Hell.'' - C.S Lewis

That strange serenity

2009-01-27T01:57:00.002+08:00

Its 2 am.

I shouldn't be writing this, I should be sleeping.
But I guess sometimes, having to sleep is a really lame excuse to not do something. At least now it does to me. The last few days have got me thinking quite abit about alot of things really. Somethings really deep and many others not as astronomical in depth. The latter is what is sitting me down in front of a screen, typing all this out.

Somethings maybe like the littlest things in life, way out of another person's concern, but equally important. Like when you sit and stare into space allowing all these thoughts to flow through your head, and when someone asks in concern, you simply smile and say, 'its nothing'. Well it is obvious it means almost everything to you then, but somewhere along the way, when you tranlate it all to words for another person to hear, it would mean almost nothing to another. Extremely petty or ridiculous even. And you know that all too well. 'Nothing' is always the easiest option, and you really do mean it.

Life takes you by surprise and quite alot of the times, it leaves you pretty much dumbfounded. Like why certain things happen the way they do and why on earth you had to respond they way you did. Theres always a better way to have done something- If only we knew, then. Some people couldn't have given a damn, while there are others like me, who keep pondering over little follys and try to make up.

I wonder why every issue addressed is always something big, something people can label, put a name to, put a reason behind, put a solution to end it. And little ever do bother to write about the ramblings that goes on in someone's head. It does take up most of our brain power you know. Some do, and they give it a simply name that gives them immunity from finding any sort of solution. They call it, Complicated. We have very complicated minds.

So you can forget all my ramblings. Its two and even I think its complicated.
Don't bother too much about all this, I'm tired and its nothing much really.

And yes, I should be sleeping now.

Happy new year people

2009-01-07T22:26:00.002+08:00

Seventh January.

I've made a couple of new year's resolutions and have been trying to psyche myself up about certain things. Some things, far too many times. It is undeniable that the constant thing that keeps bugging me and oh so amazing managed to persuade me that 2009 isn't as amazing a year as it would be to most people is the fact that I'll be enlisted in three months time. (Sorry, I speak my mind and sometimes, I really do speak such unbelievably long sentences)

A very wise young lady once said to me "Is all that worrying gonna change anything? NO, so eat up, and I better see that you finish that bowl of dessert." The context of course, is very much different and you really do not wanna know what that dessert was made of. It was really strange, but completely edible, and tasted pretty good actually. =)

That strange taste, which had a dozen flavours bursting in my mouth (The chef's lovely discription of how it should taste) was much more like a fusion of Chinese Wayang and a rock concert if you try to make musical sense -if any- out of it. (My rendition of how it actually tasted) Anyhow, it did little to stop me from worrying that day. Maybe it did, for like a split second or two, but entirely because it tasted, well, like a dozen flavours bursting in my mouth.

The fact remains that sometimes I really do worry too much and at times unnecessarily. So, yes, I've made it my goal to not worry so much. =) Nono, not a new year's resolution, cos we all know, New Year's resolutions are impossible if not very hard to ever achieve for some darn reason.

Happy new year people. =)

Orange County

2008-12-20T10:53:00.007+08:00

Its nearly 7pm in Orange County.
We'd probably be planning to walk to Target in the freezing cold just to reconsider our exotic choices for dinner nearby. Theres the China Buffet, which serves the same food like everyday, the Jap restaurant with the really nice boss, and theres the Hawaiian BBQ which we try to abstain from. Vietnam food and In-and-Out were simply too far away. We'd then most probably go to Target, like the millionth time in a row (oh yes we did visit it Everyday for some darn reason) and theres always something to buy, while I would check out the game section, just to take a quick looksee.

That, was just the ordianary, and I miss every good memory about America. Well, the strange ones are pretty hard to forget and the few bad ones, I've completely thrown aside. It was quite an eye opener, this new world, very different from the place I left behind for 14 days. The countless streets in LA that look pretty much so repetitive every now and then, the endless road trip that stretches for miles and miles into the wilderness of the cold, sunny desert. What an irony.

Perhaps Sin City was the biggest difference of them all. Las Vegas proved extravagant in detail and entertainment as well as extravagantly sinful. The extremities never seemed greater and yet the people never seemed much indifferent. That was probably the scariest part of them all, not the endless cabarets or the multitudes of slot machines. The brighter side of things however had some of the wildest and most jaw-dropping form of entertainment. It seemed free stuff and free shows were the trick to gravitating all of America into this desert in Nevada. Either that, or people in Las Vegas just have too much money to give away. But darn, I had a whole lotta fun. Fun meant watching a musical fountain so big and grand dance into perfect rythm of a jazz piece while the lights simply entralled everyone that was there. Silence was the best form of appreciation and everyone just stood silent and very much in awe. We also went 89 stories up the towering stratosphere and watch people get the kick outta taking amusement park rides at that level (yes there was actually a small open-air amusement park at EIGHTY NINE stories up.)

The best part of the whole trip however was spent in the quietest of all the towns we visited, a very small, very cold one. There my dream for something special, something magical came true and amazed not just me but everyone else. It was a night at a Grand Canyon town, and it was at that very moment after dinner that I finally had my white christmas. The snow itself was like a little miracle, the bigger miracle however, was how it brought everyone together. How we broke into a crazy snowball fight and started making a snowman and yes freezing while carrying all that ice but feeling totally warm and fuzzy inside, now that was priceless. We laughed and we played as though all us grown up teens became little children all over again. Beautiful is perhaps how everything else a thousand miles away didn't matter, but how everything around enchants you and takes you in. Hours later, the coldest sunrise at the canyon took all of my breath away.

Yes, I do miss America.

Little things like brushing your teeth

2008-12-03T02:26:00.002+08:00

Of Kings and Queens in an island far away.

A ride on the waterhorse into a vast expense and then to fall into it forced everything out for a split moment. I resurfaced and struggled to find my orientation only to find the five of us scattered everywhere looking so confused. We looked at each other, we laughed and we climbed back onboard the bannana float only to scream louder and shout to go much faster. We loved crazy.

Crazy was maybe why we wanted to explore new and foreign grounds like a KTV lounge and choose songs which had really strange videos. No manderin songs were sung, or chosen as a matter. Or why everyone of us went up on stage to perform with the live band in the club with with two really huge chairs. Empty was actually the bigger reason. Empty really made us do things we'd never dreamt of doing. Empty, gave us much room to sing and dance and live like little royals.

But empty was least present in all of any emotion or experience. Unforgettable was the experience of waking up in the morning to the sound of crashing waves and the sight of the vast sea. To walk 5 steps and stand where your balcony meets the sea and feel the wind greet you in the face. What was more amazing was probably the night before. The same balcony held view to an empty lagoon to perfectly compliment an un-empty night sky. The dazzeling stars that lit a perfect black never gave more reason to just sit and stare. We'd sit, we'd chill and watch sparkling bright lights under a night sky. And I knew it was worth just about everything I gave up just so I could be there.

WHOOOO.

2008-11-27T01:15:00.008+08:00

Hello there person staring at the com.

That, is part of a little effort to keep things a tweeny bit interactive. I mean the past few posts must have seriously been quite, non-interactive. Pardon me, most entries clocked in after mid-night are usually pretty queer and sound funny, strange at the very most.
But still good. =)

Christmas is round the corner. I do make a point to mention it ever so many times and always around this time of the year. haha. Just like how Starbucks tries to remind me of it when I'm mugging hard for the A levels, making me absolutly distracted and nostalgic. They do it indiscriminately and ever so many times.

Anyhow, what makes that little kid in me jump for joy is the pretty lightings and decorations you find around town and the lovely orchard road. Oh, it just gets better each year. The shimmering gold drapping every tree and the fake frofty snow that fill the floor of a display aquarium for manaquins, while these plastic models wear things to applease the heat struck summer shoppers like us. The music too, that never gets old for a season that never gets younger, charming, rustic and dreamy all at the same time.

Doesn't matter if theres no cold breeze, or if beanines and scarfs are replaced by muscle tees and short FBTs, the little christmas sprirt in sunny Singapore is somthing I've come to accept a long time ago. I used to hate it and asked myself why we couldn't be like other countries that seem to treat such a season with utmost ingenuality (do tell me if a spelt this word wrong). Why no snow? Why no over-stuffed Turkey??
WHY no Fat Santa???

Okay, you can ignore the last question or tell me he doesn't exist, but you can't say he is anywhere near slim. Everytime I see christmas in town now, its a little different. Thats what makes it unique, pretty special actually. A hot christmas sounds wierd and hard to swallow, but its pretty fun to see the city dressed up, like a little kid, with whatever the parents can afford. Just so that the season is to be remembered, rich kid or poor kid, winter wonderland, or hot sunny island. Christmas in Singapore is like nothing you can find anywhere else. Trust me on this one.

Althought, I have to admit that sometimes,
I still do dream of a little white christmas.

Engine's Burning

2008-10-31T13:25:00.007+08:00

My life has been an engine,

well-oiled for over a year,

powered for a journey,

a journey to greener pastures,

where doors are flung open,

platforms lowered,

just for you.

They say it isn't about the destination,

but the roads (sometimes less) travelled.

The turns have been brutal,

where the engine had to go full steam.

Some turns spiral into a dizzy spell,

dislocating one into delirium.

My engine has been worn down lately,

chugging along,

Doubt insidiously asking me:

are these roads still worth the pain?

Cos i surely do miss the cruising.

I write.

2008-10-26T20:32:00.003+08:00

Suppression, the smirks of an ever nearing event
more than just the demands of an absolut authority
that arrests and holds you up, close.

Drawn to its cycle and as it goes, round and round it goes.
Losing it, and you hold on trying not to let go.
A common goal that roots a thousand different paths

Some were trampled upon, made a highway
while many fail to realise, the path less taken
the one with lushes of green, proves the better way.

Maybe its more than just the endless hours
the pages flipping in an unending flow
the laughs, the small talks and all the past lunch lunches.

Learn never to lose sight, of the beauty that stands so close
the strange wonders of smiles and encouragements
and funny cards sent so late and poke a little fun.

To stop deliberating, to make a little wise
to wake up, and not lose, but keep it all
to release it, that mad fraustrating suppression,

I write.

Every little thing.

2008-10-12T23:23:00.000+08:00

When it’s all falling down on you
You’re crying out but you’re breaking in two
When it’s all crashing down on you
When there’s nothing you can do
There is someone who can carry you

Every little thing’s gonna be alright
Every little thing

Travel in Singapore

2008-10-10T00:33:00.003+08:00

Today, we head of for the city centre. The very heart of the tourism capital amidst towering hotels and the famed Suntec City towers, home to the world's largest man-made fountain. Take in the sights and sounds of the sunny metropolis and walk the streets that were host to the first ever night Grand Prix before proceeding for a short break at the Esplanade. Lunch will be free and easy about the Marina Square area, where you can be pleased to find just about any kind of crusine even, the good old trusty Subway.

After lunch, we take the afternoon tea at the Pacific, where the vast range of coffee and tea will surely leave you spoilt for choice. Here you can take the afternoon off chilling with the countless magazines that they hold library to. You may want to bring along some choice reading material to keep your afternoon just way you want it to be. Let the summer vibe cool to a hearty dusk, where we now set of by train to the hub of the east, E!hub.

As the country is known for, food is definately at every corner, and choosing a dinner location could prove rather challenging, but nonetheless very rewarding. The centre provides nearly everything, catering the the thousands that flock into its doors each day, never to come out disappointed. Next, we head nearby for some quiet, in a splendid rustic church. Choose to either soak in the passion of the young or pray unceasingly as you go before the alter. Afterall, what better way to end the day and end it with a sparkle of excitment and with God.

*1 meal provided. Breakfast will be served at 8am till 9am.

Beach life.

2008-10-09T00:41:00.002+08:00

I was shown a picture yesterday.

Never have I wanted to step into a photo so bad.

It was one of a beach, the white sand that covered the coast and the turqoise water waves that crashed and crumbled lightly into foam before retreating while a hut stood where the view was the best.

lalala.

2008-10-07T00:31:00.003+08:00

Hi.

I've just came up with a brilliant plan, which I will stick to, obviously. Its four weeks long, and quite something to keep me on track. There shouldn't be any delays or hiccups, not like brilliant plans normally do anyway. So yes, it will be good.

Hi again,

Brilliant plans do only work out so much. There is actually a master plan which I am committed to. Something which I myself do not know fully. Its like a play, don't try guessing every next move. Trust the director, let the characters lead you. Let the show run, let it play, and you'll see that brilliance, is but the starting Act.

Twenty Three Forty Seven.

2008-09-26T23:45:00.007+08:00

Twenty Three Forty Seven.

Such a time, such an hour. The many hours of sleep and apparent play. To make up, what's lost, balance out the load work has burdened, but serve only to give rest, recuperate, but never sustain, never refuel, not for another day. The rest was made enough, left little to complain, but everything lacking, a certain something missing.

All I needed was some downtime.

Time out, whatever you called it.

So when I was adviced to avoid being too distracted with the rat race downtown - as though the race we run everyday isn't just about fast enough - I was pleased with settling for an alternative haven, a vast land of fields and straight runs and large flying planes. I reached at nine in the morning, it was considered late for a study break.

But something in me decided to break all routine, an urge that eventually found me sitting between the very old and very young. I was dumbfounded and quite annoyed at how so many could come at such an unearthly hour to sit behind glass walls and watch planes fly. Well, fortunately, most were actually sleeping.

I sat there, as though in a time capsule, robbed of all - everything of this world. And I sat there, and I watched as time became nothing but flipping numbers on a retrospec clock.

Such a time, such an hour.

And when that began to fade,

I said a prayer.

YOU, yes you.

2008-09-23T18:25:00.002+08:00

YOU
SHOULD
BE

STUDYING.

Yes you.
I'm sorry if you're taking a break.

No wait, I'm not apologetic about it.

Fame

2008-09-20T00:42:00.002+08:00

Jared has enough fame. Its time to move on.
(or so he says)

I'm sorry dude, nothing is coming into my mind, so I can't really type out anything.
So yeah, its a failed attempt of making a long post, so that the first thing people see, is not the conversation which brightened my day so so much.

I tried. I even tried to make the font bigger.

my blog never change

2008-09-15T23:07:00.003+08:00

I Blog at such an hour.

I know its late at night, but talking wierd is abit too far-fetched.
So my conversation about my post exam holiday destination went something like this.
Mind you, the one and only location Koh Samui is highly disagreeable by my fellow voyager, Jared.

[m] Absolut Vintage. Ronald says:
hmmm... i just want a beach and a good massage haha

[m] jared says:
your blog never change sia.

[m] jared says:
downtown east.

[m] jared sent
such an honour.

[m] Absolut Vintage. Ronald says:
hmmm? what about my blog? haha what honor? what downdown east???

[m] jared says:
your blog never update. you want a beach and massage? downtown east. an honour to go vietnam.

HAHA. Full sentences dude. Adding fullstops doesn't help.

Venice

2008-09-14T00:25:00.004+08:00

Econs, the very word makes some people shirek and flip. A dozen other complaints follow suit and then an onslaught of disgust and wierd looks pour forth when I drop the million dollar statement.

But I love econs. =)
(I always say it with a smile.)

It happens quite alot.

I don't know how other people see things, but damn, I really do love it.
The merchants of Venice would agree with me on this one.

It sounds wierd, but all I can think of now is, Venice.
Why Venice?
I dunno, its a nice town. I want to go there.
Sip some coffee, speak Italian and wear a fancy mask.

AAA

2008-09-11T22:49:00.007+08:00

Today is September 11.

7 years ago, I turned on the tele with my family to witness a horrific event unfold in history.
The world watched and wept. It blamed and fell solemn.
It united.

7 years later, I tune in to watch a movie, and things havent seemed to change much.
Violence is kept a little lower, but its frequency pulsates with adrenaline. This time, what I watch is very much so retaliation under the guise of protection. Abuse that has gone astray and disgust beyond morals. The war it seems only continues and uncovers deeper, more complexed issues. No one is entirely sure of winning. They just keep at it, at all costs. Yet we will never tell them to stop.

Both sides are fully convinced that they are right.
But their methods of carrying out what they want, seems only too wrong.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,
one goes down, so does the other,
only to come up again, over.
Round and round it goes.
A conflict predicted in the word.
Many preach about it, yet so many others
would swear they never saw it coming.

So many are getting hurt
so many more are dying
Yet people fail to realise that
and see it only as a, statistic.

When will this world realise they need the grace of someone much more,
The grace of a Savior that is mighty to save?

A walk with God

2008-09-09T17:18:00.004+08:00

Have you ever wondered what was Adam's life in the garden of Eden like?
How close he was with his Maker,

How they would walk daily, in a place so beautiful,
by trees that would sway and dance in God's glory.
How animals would walk right by and they would name every one of them.
How God would point out to Adam the beauty of the evening
and the colours that lit an unending horizon.

And when the evening fades, how Adam would be amazed
as God showed him in the spirit, how he set the stars in their place
the planets in their oribits, demonstrating with his fingers as how he really did it.
How he made every mountain to scale, every rock and tree
and how he weighed every drop of water to perfectly balance the earth.

What perfect communion.
Magical isn't it?

Whatever, just stop.

2008-09-07T01:40:00.004+08:00

May the riots in Thailand please stop soon.
People are getting hurt, its not a good thing.

And... if possible, that
Airfares (to Koh Samui) and hotel rates drop drastically
to attract and convince tourists that
Thailand (Koh Samui at least) is still a nice place.

Yes, I do know the riots are in Bangkok.
And No, I do not like writing about world issues on my blog.

HOPE

2008-09-06T00:29:00.002+08:00

HOPE.

Hope is a confident expectation of things that are yet to come, and faith is what lays hold of that and brings it to reality.
- John Bevere

I cannot begin to express the emotions and excitment that is rageing in my when I hear the word of God speak. The revelation of his word and his agenda from the time he led Israel out of Egypt, just so he could draw near to us. The hope that so many of us lack, in seeking his face and being in his presence. I have never wanted God's presence so much more in my life.

I want more, more, more of God.
Greedy greedy.

A dream

2008-09-04T23:25:00.002+08:00

Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park,
I asked God who I'm supposed to be.
The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie.
I said a prayer and fell asleep.

I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest tree.
I had a dream.

Songs have a way around mezmerising people. I'm no different from anyone else. I fell victim to the wispy charm of one that reminded me of a certain childhood I once partially had. One part memory, one part imagination. The line that seperated the two now blurred, but everything still wholly beautiful.
I had a dream.

Carl's Jr

2008-09-01T23:25:00.003+08:00

What Folly.

More than a year ago, I tried this American diner called Carl's Jr. They were known for their American sized (really Big) burgers. Of course, for a person with a stomach as small as mine, putting that fact to the test wouldn't be very bright an idea. But they wanted to prove it anyway.

Trying to finish my meal was like conquering a mountain, honestly. I wanted to puke during the last 5 bites, and so I promised myself never to dine there again.

Never, is quite a subjective word.

Today, I thought my stomach was a little bigger. Brilliant me, decided to have another go. Actually, I justed wanted their cheese fries. There was a sudden craving. We all have that don't we. And then I found myself ordering a meal. I was wrong, my stomach got smaller. And I didn't even try reaching the peak of this mountain. I just stared at it, and then gave the rest away.

And yes, I told myself it was simply not worth it and promised never to dine there again.
Or, maybe anytime soon.

Photos

2008-08-27T22:39:00.005+08:00

Post 228

I was told, pictures tell stories that words could never fully describe. The impact it brings and the reality it strikes is unparalleled. It draws people universally, into single dimension, as though letting everyone see through the same lens for once, then, splitting the vision to a thousand different rays. Letting everyones' mind to carry their thoughts however it goes. Like the hard hitting photo of the African kid in his dying moments while a famished vulcher awaits, sizeing up its coming meal. Its stuff like this that reminds u of the harshness of this world. Of course, there are other lovelies that are so amazing, its like a reminder to the world that God still is the greatest artist, and he owns it all. Pictures are quite something.

What has all these gotta do with anything? Well, I wanted to post up something really darn good, jaw dropping, make u pee in your pants or what not. An amazing photo that would be imprinted in your mind for a long time to come.

And after a long long time of trying to find a good one, I settled for this beauty.

There are 8 people in the photo. Yes, some of us look like ghosts. But I love it.

The Picture

2008-08-20T23:13:00.008+08:00

Its as though the people were always there, the same place, feeling the exact same feelings, over. Just a short moment, a tandem repeat. Over and over. The moment that lived on forever, even when all else has faded. Even when emotions were only for a split second. Despite an array of facades all around, what's true revealed itself at the instance, captured forever.

The shutter clicked.
A moment immortalised.

.
.

Feelings

2008-08-19T22:50:00.004+08:00

Its abit strange how I was distracted this afternoon.

A mish mesh of feelings and emotions of the other side. The side that would translate into red, orange and black paint on a canvas. Strong, bold and dark. I honestly felt horrible having my mind floating so far away and trying to reel it back it, again and again. Then I was reminded of the times I had every sunday morning 2 years back. My mama would drag me out of bed. I'd be struggling to finish my homework and if I was lucky, I'd be doing it in a cafe at the park.

My dad would be telling me not to leave my homework to the last minute. He'd say it over, I'd listen and say, "yeah". And then it would repeat itself every week. But it was okay I guess, I was okay with it, my teacher was okay with it. At least it served as a last minute practice so I don't go in blur and rusty. He was a nice man. Really good and amazingly calm. Gracious almost I would say. And he has some cool abilities too.
HE, could write upside down.

Now, how many people could ever do that.

I can't even read words upside down. Anyhow, it was amazing how what he would say to me seemed just so understood when I heard it, but became increasingly and strangly true in the recent year. Things like drink lots of water and sleep well everyday. (If that was a commandement, I'd have sinned a great deal, carndinally, and on a daily basis.) Also, there was this thing about fruit. He'd always cut some and give it to me. Always. And it helped me concentrate better, except for having sticky fingers. The theory about God and living life came at its best and finest from a man who lived it all. He was wise, way beyond what I know. Maybe I'll finally realise how wise he was one day. Just like how i realise how all the other things he said came so true.

Yes I do miss sunday morning tuitions. The silence of the morning and learning life's most important lessons, even though it seemed like the most unlikely of times.

Twenty Four

2008-08-12T22:58:00.006+08:00

I want to see miracles, see the world change

Wrestled the angel, for more than a name

For more than a feeling

For more than a cause

I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You

And You're raising the dead in me

Twenty four voices

With twenty four hearts

With all of my symphonies

In twenty four parts.

But I want to be one today

Centered and true

And I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You

Rush rush.

2008-08-11T21:57:00.002+08:00

Its like being punched hard in the face twice.
No time to recover from the first and the second one comes.
Straight, Hard and Fast.

Ouch.

Mutilation or art.

2008-08-08T18:14:00.004+08:00

Its not fun having mirco needles jabbed all over your forearm. Twenty times.

But heck, the red dots they leave are pretty cool. As long as they are Not permanent. Skin Prick test is what they call it. Yes, prick. Everything and type of allergy the doctors could think of were put into 18 tubes and fired at will, very nicely, and neatly. Two more for controls, which after an explaination, still didn't look anything different to me.

By the 11th prick (stab and twist rather), the nurse realised I had gone quiet, simply looking hard at how fast she jabbed. Then she said, "so hows it?". I replied as honestly as possible, telling her its alright but a little painful. I supposed she had good intentions when she went on saying "its gonna get more painful, especially here, Very sensitive part of the arm." Trust me, that did not help at all. Not comforting, absolutly not comforting to know that.

The 17th prick saw me looking away to the wall to take my mind of the ant bites. Having noticed I've gone all quiet again, she tried to start a conversation asking me if I was working or still studying. Trust me, nurses love to do that. The army nurse started talking to me about Maids, when he was taking my blood sample in June, again when I went all quiet. Haha. It was so random a topic.

So anyhow the dots left behind look pretty, astounding.

Title: Pricky Mutilation

Artist: CGH Nurse

Pricky Mutilation will be up for public viewing and display

Eighth to Eleventh August, At least thats what the nurse said.

Wakie wakie

2008-08-07T16:24:00.004+08:00

Ever woke up, feeling lost, as though its a whole different world you're in. As though time and space could bend at the speed your mind was racing. And nothing seemed to be, just for that few moments you try to make sense of everything, that was, that happened, that seemed to have.

What was fact and what was imaginery became like millions of tiny black and white dots mixed in sea to form something that people called grey. So much had happened, your mind tells you. Your body, can't give you an answer, it doesn't have one.

Then you try consolidating everything that you've dreamt, and find that its no different from chasing a hundred pieces of paper flying down the street as they are carried so weightlessly by the wind. As though your memory never failed you any faster before. Everyone you saw or spoke to, everyone that was in that world, suddenly became faceless strangers,then nothing. Some remained, the reasons behind the familiar faces were wierder. What seemed like hours or even days suddenly ceased to exist. Just like that.

You look at the clock and can't believe time had been the biggest lie and only an hour had passed.

Ever woke up, feeling lost?

The Golden Book

2008-07-25T21:22:00.003+08:00

You see, I have this Golden Book.
And its really taking away alot of my attention from blogging.

I'd draw and write in it, yes i do. Like a cookbook passed down from generations to generations. But no, its not a recipe book. (although I do have one on carbonara inside)

One thing's for certain, painting is never an easy art. Painting with words however, makes your pallete black and white. Like the paino keys that are black and white, but sound like a million colours in your mind. Thats an art that has never ceased to amaze me.

And when I decide to paint out of canvases,
a heaven of indulgence will be fully embraced.

Stop the war. Watch the show.

2008-07-11T23:03:00.003+08:00

It was intense.
Then it just contined,
lingering on as though the end
seem like a mile away,
seem like a world away.

Then the wierdest thing happened.
A puppet show in the middle of nowhere.
As though all that fighting made u dazed
What was real, what is going on
Who was the stage set for?

Your mind starts to drift
everything around fades
You take a closer look,
Squint and make out what it is
It is as it was, everything, Nothing.

Fallen comrades and those who push on
Thirsty yet, but still pressing on.

"its really the stupid devil that is trying to
discourage the hearts of god's children!"

"victory is ours to claim, cos the devil has already lost
he just hates it when we have to remind him of it"

Your mind is tired.
You are confused
but you are inspired.
And all you want to do
is to pray and wait for that miracle.

Spartan For God

2008-07-10T22:22:00.003+08:00

I wasn't taught how to hold a shield and wield a sword all weekend for nothing.

Stand firm, left leg out, buckler up.
Don't change your guard.

Its a wild place, and very unsafe.

Joy of the Lord be my strength.

God put a smile on my face.

2008-07-09T19:11:00.002+08:00

Parables and hidden treasure.
Matthew onethree fourtyfour.

Treasures and those who seek it.
Find a field, rebury and know its worth it.

Appreciation lies not in auctions
but the finder, the seeker's actions.

Spells it all, says it loud, says it proud
Stands obvious even within a crowd.

And when the autumn comes a swift
a map, a spade, the perfect gift.

Change hands and all the gold to leave
Satisfaction, knowing its not just but a myth.

Joy of the Lord,
be my strength.

Prayer meeting

2008-07-02T18:14:00.002+08:00

The third quarter started rough,
its burden and negativity however
are caught amidst a turning tide

And in all dullness, frost and fog,
a beacon of light and glimmering hope
shines through, small enough just like a star

The very essence of heaven's peace
set between an anxiety of rushing waves
To whisper a prayer, of a promise resigned

Such twillight belonged to neither dusk nor dawn
all that is left are but grey waters and rough waves
To stay is folly, so leave and be gone

Sail now and show me the meaning of haste
For what dreary fog or storm can ever rob
The light, of my saviour's grace

Cough.

2008-06-28T23:38:00.003+08:00

Cough. Cough.

Ever had one of those things that makes your throat go all nasty?

I've got alot. And its making me feel like a Biochemical warfare weapon each time I cough/shoot funny germs from my mouth. Obviously, I cover my mouth. And you thought that I had lost all my manners eh? Shame shame.

Okay, it sounds wierd cos I'm pretty sick,
doesn't help that I'm not getting enough sleep.

Airport

2008-06-23T18:40:00.002+08:00

Whoa. I miss the airport.

I love being there.

Maybe I'll be like Tom Hanks in the Terminal,
And live there for a week.

Delifrance

2008-06-15T18:57:00.003+08:00

The latte at delifrance was good.

At least it was the last few times, I'd been there. Strangely so, it never came across to me that the barista had very much effect of the kinda coffee that would turn out to be on my table. Today was not like the last few visits apparently. It was a little less milky, and embodied a slight acidic flavour of the long black toward the end of every sip. I know people who would be very much affected by coffee that was not good. They'd leave very unsatisfied, angry or groucy, like it made any difference which emotion they felt anyway.

Well thats because I used to be one of these such people. Bad coffee, bad day.

Thats until I learnt to take it into stride. Theres always another day, and the latte much just be very much better the next time around. And one day, I'd just buy the darn coffee maker and make the perfect cup myself. Otherwise, I'd had better things to focus on. The many pieces of highlighted paper on the lovely table. Yes, there is an everest of notes to conquer.

The better ones will know I've never tasted delifrance's latte before, much less bought anything from there.

Macs for breakfast

2008-06-14T12:19:00.002+08:00

I like the fields of Buangkok. The wide open fields that symbolised freedom, in some sort. The green that never fails to remain lush. Lush and boundless, where the field and the sky merged as one into a co-existance of green and blue. Always blue, always green.

Am I always so ideal?

Kinda. But I love it. Even though the grassy land is uneven and filled with unexpected portholes. Even though concrete blocks with fancy windows would squeeze their way in between the horizon. Even though I've seen the field at night and it looks really black, not even mentioning the lack of stars.

Things always seem much better from memory. Places with a dull weather suddenly became sunny and we'd smile and say, yes, it was a lovely day. The little irks and unsightly things fade to oblivion and become somewhat rather, insignificant. People were always much happier and cheerful. We'd add little things here and there each time we recall, and like a canvas, we'd add newer and lovelier brushstrokes, and convince ourselves that they had been there all along. We'd forget any unhappiness and simply forget that they were ever there.

Forgetting small things is easy. Only when they are rather significant, we'd magnify it, like only focusing on the dark heavy strokes and saying that it was all really unpleasant. We'd discard it, throw it one side, and splash more black paint on it, if ever others wanted us to recall it. The norm or what was lingering at the pivot, not being on either side - lovely or unpleasant- simply failed to exist in such an extremist world of the mind.

Then we try ever so hard to even recall what we did 5 years ago on a monday afternoon. What monday afternoon?

Memory lane has only two tones. And whenever nostalgia knocks at our door, our part recollection part imagination never looked better. If the grass always looked greener on the other side, then our memory would be nothing less than fields and fields of lush and very green grass.

One life

2008-06-12T18:41:00.006+08:00

Life's always about doing the craziest things. Then running away real quick.

What a principle, what a wicked idea. We sneaked into a condo today, past the security guards and residents that gave funny stares. Giving funny stares back and saying Whoa at all the pretty little things, all just for the sake of finding a nice place to study. And to use the loo as well. It was damn nice. Weijie was right.

Two lost kids around some outta this world western european apartments.

Actually, we walked straight in with our heads high. Fortunately, some little boy distracted the guards while we entered as though we did it for the thousandth time already. Plus, we had a good excuse anyway. We being caught was highly unlikely. Yes, highly unlikely.

It was like a sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. There was a certain vibe of the place however, something that reminded me very much about a very special group of people I could never seem to fully appreciate. It was quite disdainful really, the impression I have of them. All of it just part of the very impressionable memory of a younger me. My relation with the west, stopped when my love for the east was rediscovered. Except for a very very few, West people are wierd and very hard to relate to.

Thankfully the vibe contained itself to only the clubhouse. The rest of the premise was picturesque, in almost every way. Our cool image dropped when we got pretty lost trying to find a way out. All that starts well, must end well. So when we found the small side gate, we walked out, cool as we were, as though we did it for the thousandth time. All but for an audience of one.

C.S Lewis

2008-06-11T22:54:00.011+08:00

If any musician can make music that still played around the world even after he has passed on, he would be hailed as great.

If any man could make a statement for God and impact people even after his death. He'd be annoited.

"I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."
- Mr. C.S Lewis

He loved God. Not only was he proud of it, but he wanted the world to know why too.

Leaders' Camp =)

2008-06-10T20:52:00.002+08:00

I bet everyone's sleeping like pigs now.

The bus ride wasn't particularly long. Not surprising if your hotel view stretched as far as the causeway to the red dot's HDBs. But yeah, it felt like the middle of nowhere most of the time.

Three days of seeking God's face made it feel as though the clock worked doubly hard. Time flew. But it was awesome, everything was (except for the red drink we were given at all meals. We were thoroughly convinced that they added air freshener in the syrup.) The artic-like airconditioning, the mass pool party where half of everyone was thrown in very unglamorously, the many hours of service and lovely lovely worship, everything was, Beautiful. What a word, yeah I know.

Certain things just can't be put into words. The presence of God and freedom in worship. Yeah. I'd write a novel if I could to recount everything. But nah. Its good enough in my head. For all there is, the tingling feeling you get where nostalgia sets in and takes you for a walk down memory lane.

Loved it all. Loved every moment of it.

I'm gonna miss camp. Real bad.

the SATs game

2008-06-06T18:49:00.003+08:00

Rest Day

Stop preparing for the test. Play like crazy all day.
Run around your bed twenty times, and then fall into it.

How inspiring. thats what my SATs guide book instructed me to do.

Starbuck

2008-06-05T18:53:00.003+08:00

The first star that I saw last night
was a headlightof a man-made sky, but
Man-made never made our dreams collide.

Don't close your eyes,
Don't close your eyes.
This is your life.

Maybe it's called ambition,
but you've been talking in your sleep
About a dream,

We're awakening

I got my eyes wide
It's not over yet
We are miracles and we're not alone

Maybe you'd stop to ponder

and maybe start to wonder

how the chaos in our lives could pass as sane

You wrestled the angel,
for more than a name
for more than a feeling

Yesterday is a promise that you’ve broken
and today is all you’ve got now.

Today never happened.

And today is all you’ll ever have
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes

When you're stoned and believe that Switchfoot rocks.
You'd probably end up with something like this.

Bungalow Fifteen

2008-06-04T18:45:00.002+08:00

MacDonalds at four in the morning
A 5 pound bowling ball at 22 mph (thats very fast)
Funny tasting Chocolate barbequed chicken wings

And one security guard who rehearsed his
"Get out, get dressed, get lost, NOW"
line for a good half an hour before performing his final act.

The kaya from the bottle never felt better when it stained everyone's faces, even to the ear. Which was extremely gross and wild for an icebreaker by the way. The guys from the losing group had kaya facial masks and we made Jared's like a horrible disgusting goatee which was dripping all over. I was spared, 3 splats of that green thing was more than enough to feel the horror.

You don't ever forget such things in life.

Cell chalet rocked. And while it would be unfair to make a compare, we'd all know that the little tinge of magic always work its wonders every year at mid-June.

I couldn't find an appropriate title.

2008-06-02T09:50:00.004+08:00

This is not a poem.

Isn't it fraustrating to know its the holidays,
the second longest in a year mind you.
And everytime, you do something fun,
guilt never fails to keep up with you.

The piles of notes to mug all day
could easily make the amazon look real bald
and explains why global warming is so real.
They'd cut more trees just so to remind you of it.

And the world demands more bright sparks
so you really have to work hard, keep that brain full.
Ace your exams to prove to the world that,
you deserve a decent job to keep food on the table.

And chill out lounges all over are filled
with people on the verge of their seats
ready to leave at a moments notice
by their LOVELY dictators, the cell phone and the watch.

(Don't laugh, we all have that in us.)

And when I wake up in the morning, crappy and irritated,
writing all this down while chomping my breakfast, I know
Despite all this ramblings, the world will still be the same
But yes, people need to know that they are all still sane.

Yes we do. So Chiao, I'm off for a 3 day vacation. =)

Bustop

2008-05-28T15:29:00.011+08:00

Bustop

The bustop was an empty one, grey, like the cityscape. I was told the sky was downcast that afternoon, yet I clearly remembered it being bright and sunny. In a moment, the people were just there. Just like a badheadache, not knowing when or what happened. Empty, full, empty, filled. There it was. Filled, with people just like that.

He walked to the stand, trudging, almost, iPod plugged in, not a care in the world. Turning back every once or twice to see if the bus was approaching and run if he had to. He dug deep into his pocket to acertain if he felt a vibration, there was none. Still no reply. Disappointment crept around and tiredness was already no stranger. Jadedness was all there was to describe it, everything. Peeking at the uncovered screen to account for the switch in songs, he smiled and was reminded of the crazyness that happened in school. The witty talk and the unending fun that seemed to lift him from everything else. Momentarily at least, was better than nothing. He pushed aside the negativity and embaced the fresh influx of thoughts as though it were from heaven. Living out the song, God put a smile on your face. There it was the bus had arrived, just like clockwork.
---
*Phuket might just be it dude, if you ever need to look forward to a holiday. Songs of America might help very well too, haha.

She glaced to see if the bus was hers to take. How lucky, she must have thought, for a guy to just arrive and hop on so soon, spared of the agony of waiting. Waiting wasn't the problem, she was going to be late, again. She took out her phone and sent a short message saying she was on the way, reaching in 10 minutes time, so as to buy a little more time and turn down the heat. Anyway its only 7 minutes, at least its not 2 hours. And they would wait, yes, they would wait. Whispering a short prayer with childlike faith, she opened her eyes to welcome a screeching brake, and embraced it she did. Her bus had finally appeared.
---
* I gotta admit, weijie was right. You are becoming less and less late. haha.

Getting off the bus, he walked with quick paces. Part of him still feeling a little uneasy of what he was doing. Wondering here and there if all that was said to him made any sense, or did his friends really understood his position at all. He deliberated a little over what could have been the better choice, but just as quickly as a rouge wave, emotions took control. Part of him feeling extremely excited to go there and meet her. Would it work out in the long run? It never did come across his mind. Live for today, thats it, that was good enough. He walked quickly with such excitement, not wanting to be late, wanting only to be there and be there quick.
---

Two buses have gone and its still not here. Sitting hunched a little with his greenbackpack still on and earphones plugged in. His bandaged arm a public canvas for all to see. Worry, however was all that went through his mind. Not so much about how he left home in such a fit in the morning, but more of how things don't seem to work out just like how it supposed to be. How he was told it should be. Its improving he reasurred himself, but the apparent restriction still dominates and limits, disappoints others and makes him feel bad. The music was comforting to a certain extent, and then it was disrupted. The message was quite abrupt and out of nowhere, from a strangely special person, but caused quite a pandemonium to have broken out from within. The stoned face broke into a smile. His heart surged with joy as his mind reached yet another crossroad.
---

She shifted in her seat and looked around at the rest ofthe people in the small shelter. Finally coming to the conclusion that it wouldn't be very productive should she continue idleling, she reached into her bag and pulled out a set of notes. Staring at it with much irritance and somewhat anxiety, she thought, TWO more days and I'll burn this stupid book and I can finally drop that ridiculous title. There was some prestige to it, but she hated it. Was it the fear of not making the grade or the subject itslef, she couldn't be entirely sure. The double decker was here and it saved her from further agony of studying what she had. At least for now.
---

He put both hands in his pocket. School was finally over, at least for him it is. Everything else scheduled on that timetable that day was pretty redundant and quite a bore. Home seemed like the best place to be right now. And yes, there maybe no one at home right now, but that was a seperate issue altogether. Thinking to himself how much more fun he used to have a year ago than in this college, he was disrupted by a sudden ring. He pulled out his phone and answered the call. He's got company for the rest of the afternoon, but first, it would have to start with soccer.
---
*Man U were champions this time, yeah yeah.

There she was. The busstop all to herself. Everyone else has left and every other bus has come and gone, except hers. Through the silence she was reminded about the previous night out with the gals and yes it was a hell of alotta fun. The pictures were still in her camera, tons of them. She sat up and relived the crazy moments she had. A grin of much satisfaction stretched across her face. This definately has to go down my blog, she thought. The pictures as well, all of them (the nicer ones at least). The bus came and she stood up and approached the door, the excitment served only to quicken her speed. She walked up the first step and then slowed down suddenly reminded of her injury and paid much attention to her left knee, making sure it was still good. She wanted absolutly nothing to worsen it. Afterall, its been through just about enough trouble already.
---
*Forgot to tell you this yesterday. But yeah, like the way ya blog too. Very real and love how you are always true to yourself. =)

Emotions filled the bustop like an empty glass being filled. The quietness despite the once apparent crowd was only but a mask for what was all within. Their faces were but mouse holes to worlds that were exploding internally. But silence had its way of being established bowing only to the the rustling leaves and gentle breezes. All at once everything there, was once again like how it was. The bustop was an empty one, grey, like the cityscape.

Super hero Ability

2008-05-27T23:38:00.005+08:00

My Super Hero Ability

No. 1

If I had one. This might just be it.
Anyhow, Leaders' camp is round the corner and I'd never forget what happened a year ago. It was a crazy day and being excited would be an understatement. The bunk, a little hut. Everyone was still wide awake and all over the forested part of the chalet where the huts were. Yes, it was meant to look tribal. We were not, obviously.

Weijie: eh Ronald. its only the first night. Lets talk through the night.

Ronald: Alright dude.

Weijie: You won't fall asleep right?

Ronald: No way, you just keep talking to me and I'll reply man.

Weijie: Cool.

(Girl screams outside our bunk. Really loudly.)

Weijie: eh is that Geraldine? haha sounds alot like her la.

Weijie: err.. Ronald? Hello...?

Weijie: ...

The room fell into an amazing silence that night, and left weijie a very frustrated man.
Not bad for an ability huh.

Clearly, I'm not the super hero type. - Tony Stark

Sincerity

2008-05-25T00:16:00.003+08:00

It was something so simple.
Said in the most unlikely of places.
Yet at the most appropriate time.
By a strangely welcoming person.

It made me reconsider what I'd look for in people
Reasurred my doubts and floaty thoughts.
I thought about it long and hard
And finally thanked God for the revelation.

It was something so simple.
Thank you, with such sincerity.
Said at a masqerade festival
When my mask was on, tight as ever.

I removed my mask while walking home
with a shoe that gave up on me during a jump
And knew without a doubt what I overlooked.

Sincerity. How it astounded me.

Merci ami. It was something I've needed for a very long time.

Fields of Netherlands

2008-05-23T23:30:00.003+08:00

My friend told me to describe anything that came to my mind when he said, Flowers.

I told him about the fields of Netherlands filled with yellow and purple tulips, stretching as far out as the eye can see. The twilight picture perfect scene and the windmills that slowed down to their pace of life.

He said, wow, my ego is way smaller. Mine was just a bouquet.

Gosh. As far as the eye could see.
Well, he did say FLOWERS.

Post Two Hundred.

2008-05-20T19:09:00.003+08:00

Post 200

God is awesome.

The couch on the veranda
The view of the silversea.

When all the world shrunk to just the lounge to the horizon and everything else squeezed into a plasma box with the word CNA. When I spoke and listened and laughed at all the stupid little things three crazy minds could ever imagine. When lunch could not keep us full and cravings for the neighbour's packet mee rebus became overwhelming. When weijie got sick of math and looked blankly at how Joy taught me why drinks can be called Virgins.

The homework and lots of paper stared at us.
We weren't intimidated. We stared back too.

The food was darn cheap, the three of us agreed.
Everything was Ideal, an almost never for at least a good year.

And when it was time, the golden straits bade us goodbye.
It's view never ceases to amaze me.

Airport

2008-05-19T00:04:00.001+08:00

Chinese Food for dinner at the Airport.

Boarding pass in my pocket. =)

Ronald. Wake up.

2008-05-18T22:46:00.002+08:00

Watching Ironman today was abit of a mad thing to do, maybe cos I've seen it once already. In the exact same cinema. But nevertheless I'm convinced that Robert Downey Jr. (haha. Downey) is one hell of an actor. I love the show. Stopped regretting right after the first 5 minutes. That's until my body got the better of me, showed me how to suffer in an air-conditioned theatre. I was sticky from the walk to the beach and cold because it was just meant to be. Neither gave ground to the other. Yes, its duo effect and the added bonus from my hectic life made sure staying awake was not an option.

I slept. I really did.

When the stormy tides made the waves and sick winds go in my favour, I turn grateful only when I'm not riding fifteen feet above the crashing waves. Its like being startled to receive your enemy's helping hand. Its not uncommon to find your mind in a whirl. Mine was.

The aid went only as far to elevate me for a short while from a junkyard, to experience that there was a much better world indeed. Getting out and up, was entirely up to me. Its not dytopia, at least it didn't seem like it was. It looked quite artistic really, from certain angles at least. But the disorientation left alot to be desired. I thought I could cope with it. Being lost and all, piece of cake. The usual bullshit I gave myself since I couldn't come to terms that this Junkyard is not fit for long term accomadation.

Easy, I'd stay in this place and look up to the sky and pray a little prayer when the sight or stench got abit overwhelming. But, I'll still park my butt here. It can't be that bad.

Honestly, it looked nothing bad. Yeah, its quite pretty really. An avalanche of things got the better of me and took me for a ride. I hated it but couldn't do a thing about the flowing in of tons of scrap metal. I danced to avoid it all. Piece of cake remember? But, nobody apprieciated a tango so close to an inferno. It was wonky and, warped, seemed like the best word in Collin's dictionary to describe the rubbish that I went through.

Wake up, get out of this hellhole.

Obadia was screeming at the cynical scientist. The only thing that caught my sleepy eyes when darkness gave way to flashing lights. Tony Stark was himself at the end of the press conference. The nicest way to end the movie I thought. Brilliant. Made the last two hours worth every bit of it. But I'd still wouldn't want to watch a movie in a cinema, twice.

2008-05-17T00:23:00.003+08:00

Black. The colour of absence, the absence of it
The stars light up, but fade in comparison
The ground was formless and empty all around.

All else was but distant, unimportant and thrown aside
Aside where everything else went, never to come back
Into your glory where sin and shame is gone.

And when all else fades,
my soul will dance with you
Where the love lasts forever.

I'll save the last dance for you.
I promise.

Nirvana

2008-05-08T23:19:00.004+08:00

The plain empty ground. Barren and concrete.
Standing strong above the rest, the wind blows.
Howling at the lone ranger, the azure sky only
to eccentuate the colour, Blue.

And then he ran and leapt, leaving his shadow behind.
Reaching a point where gravity was finally defied.
That split second where the laws of nature ceased,
the split second before newton's law claims its ground.

The moment where all else turns blank, stops.
The moment where everything becomes nothing
and nothing is everything to be embraced.
The moment, they call zero-gravity.

The awe was never about getting to such a place. For such a route cannot be defined in full. But the true art, laid in how some people make it look so easy.

My sister's Shoes

2008-05-06T22:48:00.003+08:00

And when I ever do put myself in shoes
that have walked a thousand miles,

Will I tell myself that the distance is okay?

Carbonara Anyone?

2008-05-01T00:08:00.004+08:00

The white pasta. Stares hards, stares back.
The bread and oil, in the basket now in their hands.

The crazy conversations, two years old
still running and joking, never holding back.

Faces and voices, so different yet so similar,
The laughter, the crackles, so hearty, so simple.

It was dinner over carbonara and lots of pork ribs that were awfully sweet. The sec four clique was seriously like all that it used to be. Everyone, everything, every behaviour. Strangely the same in everyway I saw it. It was like a walk back two years ago with 2008 clothes. Otherwise, nothing much has changed. Nothing will I suppose unless the swallows decide that fall comes whenever they pleases.

We rock.

Cow

2008-04-24T16:13:00.002+08:00

I want a Cow.

Train Station

2008-04-20T00:52:00.002+08:00

Train Station

Something tells me I've missed the train. Yet again.

Delays and holdups stand like mountains between me and the station. And when i do finally get there, every other train arrives and goes. All except the one on my ticket. I look up and wait, giving the benefit of the doubt. Thrice in a week, my faith is increasing but the payoff is yet to be seen. Contemplating on being late and hoping to see a miracle made me realise the ineffectiveness of such a illogical idea. Maybe I should make it a point to come earlier. It's not fullproof but it would definately help. Will my situation allow?

I sat back and cleared my mind as announcements played along with the echoes of the screeching trains, blending into an awkward symphony. A symphony that was once so alien became entirely filtered out to the back of my mind. Background music. My announcement would come and I would know it, somehow. Everything else is unimportant, unnecessary to pay any attention to.

Where is my train? There is a huge difference looking at the adverts of its beauty and being on it. Nonetheless, I never fail to fix my eyes on any posters of it, brocheures, whatever that came along the way. It was better than nothing, for it too comes ever so rarely.

Not so much the destination for now. The train ride alone will put my mind at much ease. At least I know I'll be a step away from here. One night lesser in uneasy city of Incerteza. Not for now. It means one night more. The inn keeper has laughed hard enough at me coming back so many times after so many of such enthusiastic goodbyes. I promise it'll be his last laugh tonight.

Friday night still.

2008-04-19T00:26:00.002+08:00

Poems and ramblings
no one seems to be able to tell them apart.

Heaven of Indulgence
no one seems to be indulging in anything.

Just like cartoons
for all to look, for few can really see.

- inspired by people who try to figure out what I am saying.

Coffee with arrivals

2008-04-16T18:43:00.007+08:00

The numbers that seem to run from nowhere to nowhere.
And everything is caught in the middle. 30, 31, 32
The music that would run for hours
by an orchestra that never seems to tire out.

Time seems to be aplenty, then. Only then.
When then was ill decisive to stay or not.
Focus and distraction, when the latter became useful
the dance between them said no to a last tango.

The mindless chatter, the heart bearing talk.
Runs aplenty, runs a deep.
Skip like stepping stones
over silence beads.

The lovely lights and dark clouds outside
give a reason to stay, gives more reasons to go.
The list of choices seem only to perpetuate
while I get more aqquainted sitting at crossroads.

Nirvana for a day, for an hour,
never seems to be enough.
A while longer, a denial of unease
Another day, another time.

A promise made to applease.