Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine as children do. It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Lego 2
Alot of times, Beeto wishes it was different; Beeto wishes it was special.
In most of the structures, it always gets fixed at the bottom near the foundation in the middle of all the other pieces such that from the outset it can't be seen.
Beeto doesn't like that. He feels so unnoticed.
It doesn't help that his links are loose, so it falls away from other pieces very easily and quickly. It doesn't know why; even when Roa the Greenpiece, and Chobu the big Bluepiece try to hold Beeto close it still can't keep sticky.
Sometimes Beeto wishes it was Roa. Roa always gets to be at the top of the structure due to it's striking colour and appeal. Roa is everything a lego piece would like to be; Beeto is the opposite.
An to top it all off, Beeto is scared.
Beeto got into alot of trouble lately, forgetting to pick up after itself and put things back where they belong. Beeto got caught for that, and it's very likely that it will have to be left by itself all night.
Beeto doesn't like that.
Beeto wishes like crazy that did not happen but sometimes circumstances are just too unlucky.
Oh no, how Beeto wishes it would just get this hard time done with and move to a new place soon.
Poor Beeto. If you see it, give it a smile.
In most of the structures, it always gets fixed at the bottom near the foundation in the middle of all the other pieces such that from the outset it can't be seen.
Beeto doesn't like that. He feels so unnoticed.
It doesn't help that his links are loose, so it falls away from other pieces very easily and quickly. It doesn't know why; even when Roa the Greenpiece, and Chobu the big Bluepiece try to hold Beeto close it still can't keep sticky.
Sometimes Beeto wishes it was Roa. Roa always gets to be at the top of the structure due to it's striking colour and appeal. Roa is everything a lego piece would like to be; Beeto is the opposite.
An to top it all off, Beeto is scared.
Beeto got into alot of trouble lately, forgetting to pick up after itself and put things back where they belong. Beeto got caught for that, and it's very likely that it will have to be left by itself all night.
Beeto doesn't like that.
Beeto wishes like crazy that did not happen but sometimes circumstances are just too unlucky.
Oh no, how Beeto wishes it would just get this hard time done with and move to a new place soon.
Poor Beeto. If you see it, give it a smile.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Lego
Beeto is a piece of lego.
It's is a yellow, rectangular regular 8-link form in a large box filled with other pieces.
Beeto isn't really special, perhaps the only thing that will make you notice it is it's slight chip at the corner, but that's only if you look really really closely.
It doesn't really have any other purpose but to be a part of a bigger structure.
By itself, it's just another piece that can't do much, maybe act as a dead-weight in a room with absolutely no wind.
That's kind of sad. It's so lonely. But it's not supposed to be, cause it's yellow. It's supposed to be happy.
But it isn't.
It wishes so much to be joined to another piece but it can't, because it hasn't been moved to join.
Technically, it's edges are in touch with many others but when everything is spilled out onto the floor, it's by it's solitairy self again.
Poor Beeto.
It's is a yellow, rectangular regular 8-link form in a large box filled with other pieces.
Beeto isn't really special, perhaps the only thing that will make you notice it is it's slight chip at the corner, but that's only if you look really really closely.
It doesn't really have any other purpose but to be a part of a bigger structure.
By itself, it's just another piece that can't do much, maybe act as a dead-weight in a room with absolutely no wind.
That's kind of sad. It's so lonely. But it's not supposed to be, cause it's yellow. It's supposed to be happy.
But it isn't.
It wishes so much to be joined to another piece but it can't, because it hasn't been moved to join.
Technically, it's edges are in touch with many others but when everything is spilled out onto the floor, it's by it's solitairy self again.
Poor Beeto.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
You Tell Me
"Why do I need religion?", she asked.
It's 1.21AM on a Saturday morning I should have been spent catching up on my much needed rest.
Live firing the previous day caused me to wake at 4.15am and I haven't slept since then. I'm thoroughly shagged.
I actually wouldn't have minded that much if I was nice and comfy in my bed and perhaps on my way into slumberland already.
But I wasn't.
My brain was fried with trying to piece together a plan to rescue my friend who was wasted at Zouk. He didn't even recognise me when I eventually went to save him.
For the moments prior however, I was weary, dirty, smelly, my intelligence levels were at danger-low levels and I didn't need reason thrown at me to shake me up and break me down further.
But that's the way it works isn't it?
It's not only when the going is easy that I'm going to comfortably be in a position to defend the hardest questions of life. It's all the time.
I didn't answer that night though, cos I was too busy trying to sort poisonous politics out.
Perhaps I needed more time to ponder and give a credible answer, one that would prove my position on the matter as absolute and correct.
I had half the mind however, to immediately reply:
"Why do you not need religion?"
Pushing the burden of answer to the critic; but it seemed so cowardly, as if I were running away.
The other half of me wanted to hit the HELLO-DID-YOU-JUST-ASK-ME-THAT-STUPID-QUESTION button as if it weren't apparent enough already.
The usual "cause God is everything you want and need and you can't live without Him and you'll need Him to be there to comfort shield and protect you and give you strength and be your closest friend to confide in and love like you've never known before" blah blah blah blah blah..............
But as those words ran through my mind, I was like, that's incredibly boring, true as it might be, and I didn't want to flood her with orthodox answers.
How that turns so many people away.
In this dot com generation what people need are short, striking answers that interest them to listen beyond their 3 second attention span.
So I searched the inner contours of my small, quite-unused brain for something different, even as I rushed all over the place to baby-sit possibly the biggest baby ever.
And as the next day began and I went about rushing my chores I kept flipping the question over in my mind.
And as Sunday reared it's head and I went to buy Mee Goreng from Gluttons Bay at 2AM to bring back to the Padang to eat cos I was staying overnight guarding the Army Half Marathon stores for OCS, I was still perplexed.
Then it hit me.
I don't know.
I can't know.
I'm not knowledgeable or powerful enough.
I can't tell you why you need religion, anymore than I can prove why God exists.
I can't tell you what works for me because we're all different and it probably won't work for you.
Sure, philosophically I can answer the question "Why do people need religion?" in a general context fully and soundly.
It would go along the lines of:
"People have a natural need to live and interact with each other, and communally there must be something that keeps them united and working together, as if for a higher purpose, thus the need to have something greater than themselves to believe in and live for, hence religion."
In a nutshell, but this is just generally. Applies best to tribes.
But specifically, I can't tell anybody why he or she needs religion.
Only you have the answer to that question.
You know exactly why you need it, but yet one easily weighs the scale leaning on the need-not side because the need side seems way too easy to believe and accept.
But it true, it is incredulously easy to accept.
That's the wonder of Christianity, but that's another topic for another day.
I can tell you why I need religion, but I can't tell you why you need it.
I need God because I have nothing else to live for.
I can only pray that God reveals to you why you need Him, and why you need Him so desperately right now.
Everybody does.
I do all the time too. I fall so often.
And my one single hope is that when He comes and offers you exactly what you need, you don't ignore Him or turn away.
He'll always come.
You will always need Him.
How?
Why?
I don't know, you tell me.
It's 1.21AM on a Saturday morning I should have been spent catching up on my much needed rest.
Live firing the previous day caused me to wake at 4.15am and I haven't slept since then. I'm thoroughly shagged.
I actually wouldn't have minded that much if I was nice and comfy in my bed and perhaps on my way into slumberland already.
But I wasn't.
My brain was fried with trying to piece together a plan to rescue my friend who was wasted at Zouk. He didn't even recognise me when I eventually went to save him.
For the moments prior however, I was weary, dirty, smelly, my intelligence levels were at danger-low levels and I didn't need reason thrown at me to shake me up and break me down further.
But that's the way it works isn't it?
It's not only when the going is easy that I'm going to comfortably be in a position to defend the hardest questions of life. It's all the time.
I didn't answer that night though, cos I was too busy trying to sort poisonous politics out.
Perhaps I needed more time to ponder and give a credible answer, one that would prove my position on the matter as absolute and correct.
I had half the mind however, to immediately reply:
"Why do you not need religion?"
Pushing the burden of answer to the critic; but it seemed so cowardly, as if I were running away.
The other half of me wanted to hit the HELLO-DID-YOU-JUST-ASK-ME-THAT-STUPID-QUESTION button as if it weren't apparent enough already.
The usual "cause God is everything you want and need and you can't live without Him and you'll need Him to be there to comfort shield and protect you and give you strength and be your closest friend to confide in and love like you've never known before" blah blah blah blah blah..............
But as those words ran through my mind, I was like, that's incredibly boring, true as it might be, and I didn't want to flood her with orthodox answers.
How that turns so many people away.
In this dot com generation what people need are short, striking answers that interest them to listen beyond their 3 second attention span.
So I searched the inner contours of my small, quite-unused brain for something different, even as I rushed all over the place to baby-sit possibly the biggest baby ever.
And as the next day began and I went about rushing my chores I kept flipping the question over in my mind.
And as Sunday reared it's head and I went to buy Mee Goreng from Gluttons Bay at 2AM to bring back to the Padang to eat cos I was staying overnight guarding the Army Half Marathon stores for OCS, I was still perplexed.
Then it hit me.
I don't know.
I can't know.
I'm not knowledgeable or powerful enough.
I can't tell you why you need religion, anymore than I can prove why God exists.
I can't tell you what works for me because we're all different and it probably won't work for you.
Sure, philosophically I can answer the question "Why do people need religion?" in a general context fully and soundly.
It would go along the lines of:
"People have a natural need to live and interact with each other, and communally there must be something that keeps them united and working together, as if for a higher purpose, thus the need to have something greater than themselves to believe in and live for, hence religion."
In a nutshell, but this is just generally. Applies best to tribes.
But specifically, I can't tell anybody why he or she needs religion.
Only you have the answer to that question.
You know exactly why you need it, but yet one easily weighs the scale leaning on the need-not side because the need side seems way too easy to believe and accept.
But it true, it is incredulously easy to accept.
That's the wonder of Christianity, but that's another topic for another day.
I can tell you why I need religion, but I can't tell you why you need it.
I need God because I have nothing else to live for.
I can only pray that God reveals to you why you need Him, and why you need Him so desperately right now.
Everybody does.
I do all the time too. I fall so often.
And my one single hope is that when He comes and offers you exactly what you need, you don't ignore Him or turn away.
He'll always come.
You will always need Him.
How?
Why?
I don't know, you tell me.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Gone Too Soon
It's five o'clock.He sits on a concrete path overlapping a tiny drain set with granite rocks in the thousands on both sides.
All around is quiet; save the occasional chirping of a sparrow or the distant rumble of a vehicle.
The wind blows freely through the plains, the trees bend and shake in their wake, leaves being unsettled in the process.
The sun casts a long shadow over the rooftops making even the nearby buzzing housefly take on a monstrous form.
He sets his eyes on the mimosa plant at hs feet, admiring the red fruit blooming between the black-tipped thorns. The wind causes the stalks to shake, yet it does not envelope and isolate itself.
An idea occurs to him.
Slowly he lowers his pen tip to the mimosa stalk, and presses against it ever so gently with the same weight of the wind as it blows.
It doesn't close.
The wind stops.
He presses again with delicate force, this time making the same swaying motion as the wind.
It still doesn't close.
However, as the force of his pen tip is concentrated, the two tiny leaves on either side of the tip begin to react.
He finally presses the stalk hard against the ground and watches the leaves immediately consume his pen tip.
The amazing simple-complexity of a single mimosa vine; sensitive, flexible, beautiful and bright yet dangerous all at once, an intricate part of God's wonderful creation.
What have you stopped to notice this week?
Sunday, August 3, 2008
where to begin?
Who is God to you?
Who is He to me?
This question was asked by the pastor of last week's sermon, and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since.
I mean, really, I don't have an answer half concrete.
Yes, He is my strength, my shield, my fortress, my deliver, my shelter, strong tower, righteousness, holiness, comfort, peace, healer, love, best friend, rock, grace, mercy, creator, saviour and so so much more.
He is my everything, but what do I really mean by that?
Is He really all of that to me?
Is He any of that to me?
Have I subconsciously or not put Him into a box and open the lid only when I want to?
I can say that He is so much but yet, it's really so little because I dont really know Him at all. Even though I've been to church for so many years.
Let's just start of by saying that He is my strength.
How so?
Does He give me the boost when I most need it?
Does He give me the strength when I'm all out?
Or perhaps, is everything I do by His strength alone already, yet I credit it to myself?
Or let's try something easier, maybe by saying Jesus is my best friend.
But if so, He must be the most unlucky best friend in the world because I don't even talk to Him on most days. Am I aware that He is even around?
It's like, how you would love to spend all the time in the world with someone close, and though He's with me all the time I barely spend anytime with Him at all.
What kind of a best friend am I then?
What a hypocrite I am!!
Have I been living my christian walk under an illusion? Trying to define God my way but totally missing out on who He really is?
If I were to start to really know Him, then I find that I know nothing at all.
Where do I begin?
Is this how I progress on to the next level?
The level where I seek God for who He really is?
It seems only logical, for were I to branch out from here I would really see the magnimity of what God is, and to know Him is an eternal process.
I can't keep stating vague terms anymore.
I can't keep saying He's my wisdom when I freely throw my knowledge regarding Him out the door.
I am going to slowly etch out what each term of what God is to me, for if I don't I will forever be living under a veil.
It's time to throw away all the hypocrasy and past illusions.
It's time to find God.
It's time to know Him.
Who is He to me?
This question was asked by the pastor of last week's sermon, and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since.
I mean, really, I don't have an answer half concrete.
Yes, He is my strength, my shield, my fortress, my deliver, my shelter, strong tower, righteousness, holiness, comfort, peace, healer, love, best friend, rock, grace, mercy, creator, saviour and so so much more.
He is my everything, but what do I really mean by that?
Is He really all of that to me?
Is He any of that to me?
Have I subconsciously or not put Him into a box and open the lid only when I want to?
I can say that He is so much but yet, it's really so little because I dont really know Him at all. Even though I've been to church for so many years.
Let's just start of by saying that He is my strength.
How so?
Does He give me the boost when I most need it?
Does He give me the strength when I'm all out?
Or perhaps, is everything I do by His strength alone already, yet I credit it to myself?
Or let's try something easier, maybe by saying Jesus is my best friend.
But if so, He must be the most unlucky best friend in the world because I don't even talk to Him on most days. Am I aware that He is even around?
It's like, how you would love to spend all the time in the world with someone close, and though He's with me all the time I barely spend anytime with Him at all.
What kind of a best friend am I then?
What a hypocrite I am!!
Have I been living my christian walk under an illusion? Trying to define God my way but totally missing out on who He really is?
If I were to start to really know Him, then I find that I know nothing at all.
Where do I begin?
Is this how I progress on to the next level?
The level where I seek God for who He really is?
It seems only logical, for were I to branch out from here I would really see the magnimity of what God is, and to know Him is an eternal process.
I can't keep stating vague terms anymore.
I can't keep saying He's my wisdom when I freely throw my knowledge regarding Him out the door.
I am going to slowly etch out what each term of what God is to me, for if I don't I will forever be living under a veil.
It's time to throw away all the hypocrasy and past illusions.
It's time to find God.
It's time to know Him.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
woot?
Did you know that James Blunt served as an Officer in the British Armed Forces?
He graduated from Sandhurst, that's like, the British OCS and participated in numerous missions with Bulgarian, Ukranian and Irish troops woot~!!
I still have a chance to be a big music star!!
Okay that was random. But I don't have much time.
He graduated from Sandhurst, that's like, the British OCS and participated in numerous missions with Bulgarian, Ukranian and Irish troops woot~!!
I still have a chance to be a big music star!!
Okay that was random. But I don't have much time.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
delirium -
Scene 1
It all begins with a track.
An ordinary, well maintained 400 meter running track set smack in the middle of the most prestigious military institution in the country, fitted with an illustrious grandstand and all.
It's the final round of the interval training. 4 sets of 800m in 3.10mins or below each. Having fallen well in to the timings of the earlier 3, he wants to make the last one his best.
Yet a higher level of fatigue kicks in. Not accustomed to such muscle strain, his legs feel like jelly. With each step, the responsiveness of his feet ebb further and further away, till it feels as if he's dragging two heavy wooden logs across the terrain.
His heart thumps with a pace so verile it catapaults through his entire system.
But no he's not about done, there's still 400m to the end. That's when he sees YY overtaking him on the outer lane. All before he had thought it was going to be fine keeping to his usual pace, he was in front of most of the others anyway, but things changed.
YY was the guy from his BMT company he looked down upon. He seemed frail, and had a voice barely masculine in nature. He did not really know how to be an effective leader, and came from a hard family background. Yet YY never gave up, and ever pushed himself to the limit.
Thoughts began to swarm in his head:
"Is this the best you can give? Even YY can run faster than you. So what if you're more tired than you've ever been before? Are you just going to give up again?
Are you just going to lose again?
Are you going to lose without a fight?
How many times will you lose without a fight!!!
WHy do you always keep giving up on yourself! Where's your determination? Why can't you win, just like YY?!?"
Suddenly it all becomes so clear to him.
"That's it!
I can't keep losing anymore.
I can't keep pretending to want to make up for my past stupidity for studying harder by giving up now.
I can't keep depending on my parents funding to pull me through.
There'll come a day when I won't have them anymore!!! Then who will I turn to?!?!?!
I've got to do something for myself, by myself, to prove that I'm worthy.
I'VE GOT TO START WINNING!!!!!
FREAKING KEEP PACE WITH YY!!!!!!!"
His running now takes on a new form. Though not physically, he presses himself further and further through the mental barrier, through the nails being drilled into his mind pressing him to slow down.
He pushes and pushes, till the point where his throat feels as if its got a choke hold on his neck. He never found it so difficult to breath running before. His legs feel as if they would burst at any minute.
Then he crosses the finish line.
No, he didn't win or manage to stick to YY till the end.
But he did win himself.
That's when everything started to take a new toll.
It all begins with a track.
An ordinary, well maintained 400 meter running track set smack in the middle of the most prestigious military institution in the country, fitted with an illustrious grandstand and all.
It's the final round of the interval training. 4 sets of 800m in 3.10mins or below each. Having fallen well in to the timings of the earlier 3, he wants to make the last one his best.
Yet a higher level of fatigue kicks in. Not accustomed to such muscle strain, his legs feel like jelly. With each step, the responsiveness of his feet ebb further and further away, till it feels as if he's dragging two heavy wooden logs across the terrain.
His heart thumps with a pace so verile it catapaults through his entire system.
But no he's not about done, there's still 400m to the end. That's when he sees YY overtaking him on the outer lane. All before he had thought it was going to be fine keeping to his usual pace, he was in front of most of the others anyway, but things changed.
YY was the guy from his BMT company he looked down upon. He seemed frail, and had a voice barely masculine in nature. He did not really know how to be an effective leader, and came from a hard family background. Yet YY never gave up, and ever pushed himself to the limit.
Thoughts began to swarm in his head:
"Is this the best you can give? Even YY can run faster than you. So what if you're more tired than you've ever been before? Are you just going to give up again?
Are you just going to lose again?
Are you going to lose without a fight?
How many times will you lose without a fight!!!
WHy do you always keep giving up on yourself! Where's your determination? Why can't you win, just like YY?!?"
Suddenly it all becomes so clear to him.
"That's it!
I can't keep losing anymore.
I can't keep pretending to want to make up for my past stupidity for studying harder by giving up now.
I can't keep depending on my parents funding to pull me through.
There'll come a day when I won't have them anymore!!! Then who will I turn to?!?!?!
I've got to do something for myself, by myself, to prove that I'm worthy.
I'VE GOT TO START WINNING!!!!!
FREAKING KEEP PACE WITH YY!!!!!!!"
His running now takes on a new form. Though not physically, he presses himself further and further through the mental barrier, through the nails being drilled into his mind pressing him to slow down.
He pushes and pushes, till the point where his throat feels as if its got a choke hold on his neck. He never found it so difficult to breath running before. His legs feel as if they would burst at any minute.
Then he crosses the finish line.
No, he didn't win or manage to stick to YY till the end.
But he did win himself.
That's when everything started to take a new toll.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
EACH DAY OLDER; EACH DAY WISER;
Dear Lord,
I'm at the period in my life right now where I'm not sure what the heck is going on. Each day I'm rushing all over the place, shouting at people to get things done and accidentally making an enemy or two, being punished, and doing things that are quite cool but otherwise totally irrelevant for me for the rest of my life. I quite don't understand what purpose You have for making me go through everything each day.
Each day seems harder than the daybefore, and each day brings about more questions as to how You might be speaking/ministering to me. Sure I feel You, but in a totally different way than I had hoped to. Everything needs to be placed into context, it ain't plain simple like before. Strength and Joy now seem to be what I need, no longer a want anymore, for despair is aplenty everywhere. I don't have time to seek You out, I don't havetime to read Your word, I don't even have time to ponder about where You fit in cos I'm just processing too many things all at once.
Dear Lord,
I'm lonely. In the physical and emotional sense. For once, I realise that there just isn't any girl I like, or that I fancy who has the traits that I'm looking for. It's kind of sudden and confusing, cos there always was someone I'm after or took to, but now there's totally no one, and it doesn't help that I'm surrounded by guys 24/7 who all have girlfriends to talk about. And I also have no time nor opportunities to go about to find someone, which conversely is not such a bad thing I guess.
But back to the crux, I have no one. It's been... practically never since puberty kicked in that I've felt this way. I don't really know how to describe it. Of all my checkpoints right now, none that I've come across or still in contact with interest me very much. Or at all.
Where is she, Lord? She, who aside from looking great, shares in the same fervour I have for You, which I admit is not very much right now sorry, but still, who knows that Your will is more important than what she might want. She, who concurrently isn't immature or stuck up in some fairy tale that everything is going fine and dandy like some small kid. She, who is someone that I really can connect with. She, who loves You and wants to serve You so so much too.
Or perhaps You've already revealed her to me Lord. It's so weird when I put the dots down, they always seem to be in the most unlikely of places but yet they all connect! Somehow when one door closed, and it seemed most unlikely that I'dever get to get close to her again, another door opens. And this happened 4 times.
But its kind of hard right now. I haven't communicated with her in quite along time and the timing doesn't seem quite right. I never made any intentions when I had the chance and perhaps she might already belong to someone else?
BUT, but, if she really is the one, guess when the time comes and I finally get more freedom, she'll still be there won't she? And if it were to happen again, that this now seemingly closed door opens, would that mean that I've struck gold?
I sure hope so, but until then, the waiting part is hard. Especially if it turns out that this time the door remains forever closed. Then I'll have to wait even longer till university and pray you have enough grace not to let me find her after university. I think I might not be able to take it.
Still Lord, Your will above all else.
Dear Lord,
The next 9 months are going to be so much harder than ever before. Getting through each day is a triumph in itself and it seems so easy to give up. But I trust that if you've brought me here, Your faithfulness will see me through.
Dear Lord,
My heart aches and despairs everytime I hear someone getting a good university offer or acceptance. I feel so stupid. I feel as if I've let everybody, especially myself down. If only I had studied harder... If only I'd not given into temptation..... then I wouldn't be feeling this shitty feeling now. I feel like such a loser. I'm not even 2nd best. Or 3rd.
I don't know the plans You have for me. It's super unclear now what's going on. I have no idea where I can go or what I can do, and all the studying I want to do for the SATs seems impossible given my current situation.
Dear Lord,
Please open the door for me to study, to get to a good university. I want this so much more badly than any girl or any material thing. I need this. Please.
I know I wasted 3 chances before, but I've been lower than anyone else, and I've felt what hurts the most, and I never wanna let it ever happen again. Please put me in someplace where I can serve You well, and study, and yet still fulfil my calling to the nation.
Dear Lord,
I know all of the above sounds so selfish. The whole time I've been talking about me and about what I want/need. I'm truly a selfish bastard. Compared to others, I have no care or concern and it seems my heart is so hardened.
Dear Lord,
I'm despicable. How amazing that You should still care for someone as wretched and as hypocritical as me.
That's why You alone are Great, and Your grace is enough for me.
Dear Lord,
I trust in Your perfect plan. Amen.
p.s. I love You
Saturday, June 21, 2008
two less lonely people - Air Supply
I was down my dreams were wearing thin
When you're lost where do you begin
My heart always seemed to drift from day to day
Looking for the love that never came my way
Then you smiled and
I reached out to you
I could tell you were lonely too
One look and then it all began for you and me
The moment that we touched
I knew that there would be
Two less lonely people in the world
And it's gonna be fine
Out of all the people in the world
I just can't believe you're mine
In my life where everything was wrong
Something finally went right
Now there's two less lonely people
In the world tonight
Just to think what
I might have missed
Looking back how did I exist
I dreamed, still I never thought I'd come this far
But miracles come true, I know 'cause here we are
Tonight I fell in love with you
And all the things I never knew
Seemed to come to me somehow
Baby, love is here and now there's
Heard it over the radio today.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
love
Every person reaches it some point in time.
The place where for that moment, you really want someone so bad.
Someone to love; someone to hold; someone to do the most retardedly silly things in public with and not care what the rest of the world may think.
Someone to cherish; someone to embrace; someone to look deep into his/her eyes and say:
"I love you"
This time has dawned upon me, and my heart has never ached nor pined so badly for someone before.
Three quarters of my army mates are attached, and in this period of sweet freedom they get to spend it with that someone special, but I don't.
They look forward to the end of every week of activity, with that special girl in mind to keep them going through the toughest of trainings and shit, but I don't.
Sometimes I lie on my bed and ponder if I had let the wrong one go, that maybe I've made a mistake, or two, or three. And sometimes I want one back so badly I even dream about her.
I miss the times when I was there for her.
I miss the times where we studied together, and hung out at her favorite but most unusual place looking at stationery.
I miss the times when we spent chatting over the phone about the most random things.
I miss the times when I sent her home.
I miss the time when I wiped away her tears after we both received our horrid results and no one in class knew what to do nor dared to do anything but me.
I miss the times when the briefest of glances would send us both sniggering at God knows what, and how she gave me that half-irritated look when she saw my cheeky smile.
I miss her.
She was just like my mother, gentle, caring, honest, submissive, and had such a pure, pure character. And she was so incredibly pretty too.
I miss her so.
But it's too late now.
Perhaps I should never have let her go.
Perhaps I still can get her back.
Perhaps she's still waiting for me.
But I know I can't...
The feeling really sucks, not knowing what could have been.
I walk around these few days looking at every girl that walks past; every couple; wishing that that could be me holding the hand of that girl.
Just a few months ago I wouldn't even bother looking at any girl but now it's so different.
I guess thats what 3 months of being surrounded by guys does to you.
Oh well, guess I just have to suck it up and wait till this moment passes. I hope it goes by quick, and that in the right to come my aching heart will be soothed.
And I hope to find something else that would keep me going till I finish my call of duty and move on to my further studies, to the time when it is right to find love for real.
And when I finally meet the girl of my dreams, and when I finally hold her in my arms, I swear right now that these will be the first words out of my mouth.
"Where have you been all my life"
And pray she'll reply.
"Right here waiting for you"
Cheesy?
yes.
Corny?
yupp.
Lame?
maybe.
But am I serious?
absolutely.
The place where for that moment, you really want someone so bad.
Someone to love; someone to hold; someone to do the most retardedly silly things in public with and not care what the rest of the world may think.
Someone to cherish; someone to embrace; someone to look deep into his/her eyes and say:
"I love you"
This time has dawned upon me, and my heart has never ached nor pined so badly for someone before.
Three quarters of my army mates are attached, and in this period of sweet freedom they get to spend it with that someone special, but I don't.
They look forward to the end of every week of activity, with that special girl in mind to keep them going through the toughest of trainings and shit, but I don't.
Sometimes I lie on my bed and ponder if I had let the wrong one go, that maybe I've made a mistake, or two, or three. And sometimes I want one back so badly I even dream about her.
I miss the times when I was there for her.
I miss the times where we studied together, and hung out at her favorite but most unusual place looking at stationery.
I miss the times when we spent chatting over the phone about the most random things.
I miss the times when I sent her home.
I miss the time when I wiped away her tears after we both received our horrid results and no one in class knew what to do nor dared to do anything but me.
I miss the times when the briefest of glances would send us both sniggering at God knows what, and how she gave me that half-irritated look when she saw my cheeky smile.
I miss her.
She was just like my mother, gentle, caring, honest, submissive, and had such a pure, pure character. And she was so incredibly pretty too.
I miss her so.
But it's too late now.
Perhaps I should never have let her go.
Perhaps I still can get her back.
Perhaps she's still waiting for me.
But I know I can't...
The feeling really sucks, not knowing what could have been.
I walk around these few days looking at every girl that walks past; every couple; wishing that that could be me holding the hand of that girl.
Just a few months ago I wouldn't even bother looking at any girl but now it's so different.
I guess thats what 3 months of being surrounded by guys does to you.
Oh well, guess I just have to suck it up and wait till this moment passes. I hope it goes by quick, and that in the right to come my aching heart will be soothed.
And I hope to find something else that would keep me going till I finish my call of duty and move on to my further studies, to the time when it is right to find love for real.
And when I finally meet the girl of my dreams, and when I finally hold her in my arms, I swear right now that these will be the first words out of my mouth.
"Where have you been all my life"
And pray she'll reply.
"Right here waiting for you"
Cheesy?
yes.
Corny?
yupp.
Lame?
maybe.
But am I serious?
absolutely.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Life, the Universe and Everything
Halfway through BMT, seems a miracle I've made it thus far, albeit I'm nowhere near done.
Army is tough I won't kid ya. They push you to break you, and with heat rash all over your body and your uniform soaked with mud, sweat, blood and everything in between, plus the hundreds of push-ups and other shaggadalic exercises, you see the worst out of everybody.
You see the selfish, the depressed, the good for nothings, the idiots, the people who always screw everything up and slowly begin to sift out who you really don't want to go to war with.
It's amazing how field camp reveals the true colours of everyone; the atrocity of selfishness is oh-so freaking obvious.
Other than that, the constant muscle strain and fatigue, and the constant thumping of your heart against the walls of your chest through your vest which catapaults right through your neck to your head.
Your breathing constantly heavy beneath the helmet of heat-concentration, and your toes scrubbed hard by boots worn and torn through running everywhere. Knees bloodied and bruised from kneeling on rocks and twigs on the ground for long long periods and your mind constantly playing tricks on you. Lactic acid; what a wonderful knee killer.
Yet somehow through all this, through the firey pain when your shoulder blades rub against each other with heat rash; through the panting and puffing moments where you feel like all hope is lost and through the limit breaking digging of your own grave there comes a time where I feel lifted out of all the shit.
Somehow a glance at the night sky in the midst of all the strife gives me a sense of serenity, with the stars set firmly in place and the moon shining down of me early and late in the day, a peace envelopes me and pushes me on.
Tranquil moments are not that hard to find if only you start looking, which most people don't.
New discoveries are also made about oneself, a gauge of how much of a true friend you really are.
Yet I find myself constantly conflicted with who I truly am.
You may know me as a talkative and cheerful and maybe even funny person, the kind you'd like to have around to liven up the place.
But I find myself ever more and more pensive in the army.
Emo may be the word, but to me it's just personal reflections and thoughts.
Sometimes the thought could be just a song or something stupid, but most times it's about me against myself in this place where you first have to stand up for yourself before you can help anybody else.
And I really enjoy those moments.
Is this the real me, behind all the joviality and spontaneity?
Am I going back to who I truly was before secondary school? To my true self?
I hated the old me back then, when I was quiet and nobody noticed me, and I was but a shadow of my older brother whom the world world seemed to love.
And I tried so hard to change myself, observing what exactly people did that made them the star or the centre of attraction, and via mix and match trying became myself somewhat near that status.
Maybe the years have inbuilt it into me such that I've changed totally to really become someone of charisma. Maybe I've observed and honed myself so well I can adapt to anyone in any situation, or most. Maybe I am that person now.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I'm just one who loves to spend time by myself and prefer not to waste my breath.
But then I don't know, I seem to talk the right things at the right times when people need some conversations going. But in moments where everyone is communicating I somehow sit back and just tune out.
My wish is always to go to a big city and live the fullest of fast lives. Yet my heart aches for precious moments under the stars in the middle of a field where peace overwhelmes everything, as I've enjoyed in army.
Where its just the stars, the ground and someone beside me.
Where I can slowly ponder the heavens and the earth, and all of creation in between which contours differently at night, and take my time to observe everything that catches my eye.
I have a wonderful gift of observation. I just need to know when to apply it to myself.
Cos right now, I have no idea who I am supposed to be or how I should be like.
Am I the voice, or am I the ear?
Hmmm.
I do hope I find the answer someday.
Till then, it's back to regimentation.
Army is tough I won't kid ya. They push you to break you, and with heat rash all over your body and your uniform soaked with mud, sweat, blood and everything in between, plus the hundreds of push-ups and other shaggadalic exercises, you see the worst out of everybody.
You see the selfish, the depressed, the good for nothings, the idiots, the people who always screw everything up and slowly begin to sift out who you really don't want to go to war with.
It's amazing how field camp reveals the true colours of everyone; the atrocity of selfishness is oh-so freaking obvious.
Other than that, the constant muscle strain and fatigue, and the constant thumping of your heart against the walls of your chest through your vest which catapaults right through your neck to your head.
Your breathing constantly heavy beneath the helmet of heat-concentration, and your toes scrubbed hard by boots worn and torn through running everywhere. Knees bloodied and bruised from kneeling on rocks and twigs on the ground for long long periods and your mind constantly playing tricks on you. Lactic acid; what a wonderful knee killer.
Yet somehow through all this, through the firey pain when your shoulder blades rub against each other with heat rash; through the panting and puffing moments where you feel like all hope is lost and through the limit breaking digging of your own grave there comes a time where I feel lifted out of all the shit.
Somehow a glance at the night sky in the midst of all the strife gives me a sense of serenity, with the stars set firmly in place and the moon shining down of me early and late in the day, a peace envelopes me and pushes me on.
Tranquil moments are not that hard to find if only you start looking, which most people don't.
New discoveries are also made about oneself, a gauge of how much of a true friend you really are.
Yet I find myself constantly conflicted with who I truly am.
You may know me as a talkative and cheerful and maybe even funny person, the kind you'd like to have around to liven up the place.
But I find myself ever more and more pensive in the army.
Emo may be the word, but to me it's just personal reflections and thoughts.
Sometimes the thought could be just a song or something stupid, but most times it's about me against myself in this place where you first have to stand up for yourself before you can help anybody else.
And I really enjoy those moments.
Is this the real me, behind all the joviality and spontaneity?
Am I going back to who I truly was before secondary school? To my true self?
I hated the old me back then, when I was quiet and nobody noticed me, and I was but a shadow of my older brother whom the world world seemed to love.
And I tried so hard to change myself, observing what exactly people did that made them the star or the centre of attraction, and via mix and match trying became myself somewhat near that status.
Maybe the years have inbuilt it into me such that I've changed totally to really become someone of charisma. Maybe I've observed and honed myself so well I can adapt to anyone in any situation, or most. Maybe I am that person now.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I'm just one who loves to spend time by myself and prefer not to waste my breath.
But then I don't know, I seem to talk the right things at the right times when people need some conversations going. But in moments where everyone is communicating I somehow sit back and just tune out.
My wish is always to go to a big city and live the fullest of fast lives. Yet my heart aches for precious moments under the stars in the middle of a field where peace overwhelmes everything, as I've enjoyed in army.
Where its just the stars, the ground and someone beside me.
Where I can slowly ponder the heavens and the earth, and all of creation in between which contours differently at night, and take my time to observe everything that catches my eye.
I have a wonderful gift of observation. I just need to know when to apply it to myself.
Cos right now, I have no idea who I am supposed to be or how I should be like.
Am I the voice, or am I the ear?
Hmmm.
I do hope I find the answer someday.
Till then, it's back to regimentation.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
National Service
So, tomorrow a new life begins for me.
A life of regimentation.
A life of training.
A life of combat.
A life of Army.
Guess I must say I'm ready and excited for it.
Of course I'm sure there'll be times I'll be tested like mad.
Times when I'll get in trouble for so many things I didn't do.
Times when it's me who gets everybody in trouble.
Times when I feel like crap and don't think I can go on any longer.
Times where I feel like condemning everyone on earth and beyond.
Times where I'll hate everything.
Times where I'll feel as if God isn't there for me anymore.
All I can ask is that you pray for me, for my life in isolation of everything civilised.
My computer cam is down so I can't show you a picture of my nice long hair and new army specs, but I guess you'll get to see me with a new hairdo soon enough.
Sms me k?
I definitely won't be ableto call you or sms you back every night cos I'll be super duper busy with all the admin, training and packing for next day, but I will try my best to and will APPRECIATE it very very much as its my only form of contact with the outside world!
RAWR!!!!
CHAAAAAARRRGEE!!!!!!!!!!!
Cheers happy world =)
A life of regimentation.
A life of training.
A life of combat.
A life of Army.
Guess I must say I'm ready and excited for it.
Of course I'm sure there'll be times I'll be tested like mad.
Times when I'll get in trouble for so many things I didn't do.
Times when it's me who gets everybody in trouble.
Times when I feel like crap and don't think I can go on any longer.
Times where I feel like condemning everyone on earth and beyond.
Times where I'll hate everything.
Times where I'll feel as if God isn't there for me anymore.
All I can ask is that you pray for me, for my life in isolation of everything civilised.
My computer cam is down so I can't show you a picture of my nice long hair and new army specs, but I guess you'll get to see me with a new hairdo soon enough.
Sms me k?
I definitely won't be ableto call you or sms you back every night cos I'll be super duper busy with all the admin, training and packing for next day, but I will try my best to and will APPRECIATE it very very much as its my only form of contact with the outside world!
RAWR!!!!
CHAAAAAARRRGEE!!!!!!!!!!!
Cheers happy world =)
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
A Story
Here is a heartwarming story for all of you. I'll admit I almost cried at the end.
Totally kope-d from Max Lucado.
Watch out for my last post on thursday =)
The Parable
Five year old Madeline climbed into her father’s lap.
‘Did you have enough to eat?” he asked her.
She smiled and patted her tummy. ‘I can’t eat any more.”
“Did you have some of your grandma’s pie?”
‘‘A whole piece!”
Joe looked across the table at his mom.
“Looks like you are filled up. Don’t think we will be able to do anything tonight but go to bed.”
Madeline put her little hands on either side of his big face. “Oh, but, Poppa, this is Christmas Eve. You said we could dance.”
Joe feigned a poor memory.
"Did I now? Why, I don’t remember saying anything about dancing.”
Grandma smiled and shook her head as she began clearing the table.
“But Poppa”, Madeline pleaded, “we always dance on Christmas Eve. Just you and me, remember?”
A smile burst from beneath his thick mustache. “Of course I remember, darling. How could I forget?”
And with that he stood and took her hand in his, and for a moment, just a moment, his wife was alive again, and the two were walking into the den to spend another night before Christmas as they had spent so many, dancing away the evening.
They would have danced the rest of their lives, but then came the surprise pregnancy and the complications. Madeline survived. But her mother did not. And Joe, the thick handed butcher from Minnesota was left to raise his Madeline alone.
“Come on Poppa.” She tugged on his hand. “Let’s dance before everyone arrives.”
She was right. Soon the doorbell would ring and the relatives would fill the floor and the night would be past. But for now, it was just Poppa and Madeline.
____________________________
Rebellion blew into Joe’s world like a Minnesota blizzard. About the time Madeline was old enough to drive she decided she was old enough to lead her life. And that life did not include her father.
“I should have seen it coming,” Joe would later say, “but for the life of me I didn’t.”
He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle the pierced nose and the tight shirts. He didn’t understand the late nights and the poor grades. And most of all, he didn’t know when to speak and when to be quiet.
She on the other hand, had it all figured out. She knew when to speak to her father-never. She knew when to be quiet-always. The pattern was reversed, however, with the lanky, tattooed kid from down the street. He was no good, and Joe knew it. And there was no way he was going to spend Christmas Eve with that kid.
“You’ll be with us tonight, young lady. You’ll be at your grandma’s house eating your grandma’s pie. You’ll be with us on Christmas Eve.”
Though they were at the same table, they might as well have been on different sides of the town. Madeline played with her food and said nothing. Grandma tried to talk to Joe, but he was in no mood to chat. Part of him was angry; part of him was heartbroken. And the rest of him would have given anything to know how to talk to this girl who once sat on his lap.
Soon the relatives arrived, bringing with them an end to the awkward silence. As the room filled with noise and people, Joe stayed on one side, Madeline sat sullenly on the other.
“Put on the music, Joe," reminded one of his brothers. And so he did. Thinking she would be honored, he turned and walked toward his daughter.
“Will you dance with your Poppa tonight?”
The way she huffed and turned you would have thought he’d insulted her. In full view of the family, she walked out the front door and marched down the sidewalk, leaving her father alone. Very much alone.
_______________________________________
Madeline came back that night but not for long. Joe never faulted her for leaving. After all, what’s it like being the daughter of a butcher? In their last days together he tried so hard.
He made her favorite dinner-she didn’t want to eat. He invited her to a movie-she just stayed in her room. He bought her a new dress-she didn’t even say thank you. And then there was that spring day he left work early to be at the house when she arrived home from school.
Wouldn’t you know that was the day she never came home.
A friend saw her and her boyfriend in the vicinity of the bus station. The authorities confirmed the purchase of a ticket to Chicago; where she went from there was anybody’s guess.
_____________________________________
The scrawny boy with the tattoos had a cousin. The cousin worked the night shift at a convenience store south of Houston. For a few bucks a month, he would let the runaways stay in his apartment at night, but they had to be out during the day. Which was fine with them. They had big plans. He was going to be a mechanic, and Madeline knew she could get a job at a department store. Of course he knew nothing about cars, and she knew even less about getting a job-but you don’t think about things like that when you’re intoxicated on freedom.
After a couple of weeks, the cousin changed his mind. And the day he announced his decision, the boyfriend announced his. Madeline found herself facing the night with no place to sleep or hand to hold.It was just the first of many such nights.
A woman in the park told her about the homeless shelter near the bridge. For a couple of bucks she could get a bowl of soup and a cot. A couple of bucks was all she had. She used her backpack as a pillow and jacket as a blanket.
The room was so rowdy it was hard to sleep. Madeline turned her face to the wall and, for the first time in several days, thought of the whiskered face of her father kissing her goodnight. But as her eyes began to water, she refused to cry. She pushed the memory deep inside and determined not to think about home. She’d gone too far to go back.
The next morning, the girl in the cot beside her showed her a fistful of tips she’d made dancing on tables.
“This is the last night I’ll have to stay here,” she said. “Now I can pay for my own place. They told me they are looking for another girl. You should come by.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a matchbook. “Here’s the address.”
Madeline’s stomach turned at the thought. All she could do was mumble, “I’ll think about it.”
She spent the rest of the week on the streets looking for work. At the end of the week when it was time to pay her bill at the shelter she reached into her pocket and pulled out the matchbook. It was all she had left.
“I won’t be staying tonight,” she said and walked out the door. Hunger has a way of softening convictions.
___________________________________
If Madeline knew anything she knew how to dance. Her father had taught her. Now men the age of her father watched her.
She didn’t rationalize it-she just didn’t think about it. Madeline simply did her work and took their dollars. She might never have thought about it, except for the letters. The cousin brought them. Not one, or two, but a box full. All addressed to her. All from her father.
“Your old boyfriend must have squealed on you. These come two or three a week,” complained the cousin. “Give him your address.”
Oh, but she couldn’t do that. He might find her. Nor could she bear to open the envelopes. She knew what they said; he wanted her home. But if he knew what she was doing, he wouldn’t be writing. It seemed less painful not to read them. So she didn’t. Not that week, nor the next when the cousin brought more, nor the next when he came again. She kept them in a dressing room at the club, organized according to postmark. She ran her finger over the top of each one but couldn’t bear to open one.
Most days Madeline was able to numb the emotions. Thoughts of home and thoughts of shame were shoved into the same part of her heart. But there were occasions when the thoughts were too strong to resist. Like the time she saw a dress in the clothing store window. A dress the same color as the one her father had purchased for her. A dress that had been far too plain for her.
With much reluctance she had put it on and stood with him before the mirror.
“My, you are as tall as I am,” he had told her.
She had stiffened at his touch. Seeing her weary face reflected in the store window, Madeline realized she’d give a thousand dresses to feel his arm again. She left the store and resolved not to pass by it again.
_______________________________________
In time the leaves fell and the air chilled. The mail came and the cousin complained and stack of letters grew. Still she refused to send him an address. And she refused to read a letter. Then a few days before Christmas Eve another letter arrived. Same shape. Same color. But this one had no postmark. And it was not delivered by the cousin. It was sitting on her dressing room table.
“A couple of days ago a big man stopped by and asked me to give this to you,” explained on of the other dancers. “Said you’d understand the message.”
“He was here?’ she asked anxiously.
The woman shrugged, “Suppose he had to be.”
Madeline swallowed hard and looked at the envelope. She opened it and removed the card.
“I know where you are,” it read. “I know what you do. This doesn’t change the way I feel. What I’ve said in each letter is still true.”
“But I don’t know what you’ve said,’ Madeline declared.
She pulled a letter from the top of the stack and read it. Then a second and a third. Each letter has the same exact sentence. Each sentence asked the same question. In a matter of moments the floor was littered with paper, and her face was streaked with tears.Within an hour she was on a bus.
“I just might make it in time.”
She barely did.
The relatives were starting to leave. Joe was helping Grandma in the kitchen when his brother called from the suddenly quiet den.
“Joe, someone is here to see you.” Joe stepped out of the kitchen and stopped.
In one hand the girl held a backpack. In the other she held a card. He saw the question in her eyes.
“The answer is ‘yes,’” she said to her father. “If the invitation is still good, the answer is ‘yes.’"
Joe swallowed hard.
“Oh my. The invitation is good.”
And so the two danced again on Christmas Eve. On the floor, near the door, rested a letter with Madeline’s name and her father’s request.
“Will you come home and dance with your Poppa again?”
Totally kope-d from Max Lucado.
Watch out for my last post on thursday =)
The Parable
Five year old Madeline climbed into her father’s lap.
‘Did you have enough to eat?” he asked her.
She smiled and patted her tummy. ‘I can’t eat any more.”
“Did you have some of your grandma’s pie?”
‘‘A whole piece!”
Joe looked across the table at his mom.
“Looks like you are filled up. Don’t think we will be able to do anything tonight but go to bed.”
Madeline put her little hands on either side of his big face. “Oh, but, Poppa, this is Christmas Eve. You said we could dance.”
Joe feigned a poor memory.
"Did I now? Why, I don’t remember saying anything about dancing.”
Grandma smiled and shook her head as she began clearing the table.
“But Poppa”, Madeline pleaded, “we always dance on Christmas Eve. Just you and me, remember?”
A smile burst from beneath his thick mustache. “Of course I remember, darling. How could I forget?”
And with that he stood and took her hand in his, and for a moment, just a moment, his wife was alive again, and the two were walking into the den to spend another night before Christmas as they had spent so many, dancing away the evening.
They would have danced the rest of their lives, but then came the surprise pregnancy and the complications. Madeline survived. But her mother did not. And Joe, the thick handed butcher from Minnesota was left to raise his Madeline alone.
“Come on Poppa.” She tugged on his hand. “Let’s dance before everyone arrives.”
She was right. Soon the doorbell would ring and the relatives would fill the floor and the night would be past. But for now, it was just Poppa and Madeline.
____________________________
Rebellion blew into Joe’s world like a Minnesota blizzard. About the time Madeline was old enough to drive she decided she was old enough to lead her life. And that life did not include her father.
“I should have seen it coming,” Joe would later say, “but for the life of me I didn’t.”
He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle the pierced nose and the tight shirts. He didn’t understand the late nights and the poor grades. And most of all, he didn’t know when to speak and when to be quiet.
She on the other hand, had it all figured out. She knew when to speak to her father-never. She knew when to be quiet-always. The pattern was reversed, however, with the lanky, tattooed kid from down the street. He was no good, and Joe knew it. And there was no way he was going to spend Christmas Eve with that kid.
“You’ll be with us tonight, young lady. You’ll be at your grandma’s house eating your grandma’s pie. You’ll be with us on Christmas Eve.”
Though they were at the same table, they might as well have been on different sides of the town. Madeline played with her food and said nothing. Grandma tried to talk to Joe, but he was in no mood to chat. Part of him was angry; part of him was heartbroken. And the rest of him would have given anything to know how to talk to this girl who once sat on his lap.
Soon the relatives arrived, bringing with them an end to the awkward silence. As the room filled with noise and people, Joe stayed on one side, Madeline sat sullenly on the other.
“Put on the music, Joe," reminded one of his brothers. And so he did. Thinking she would be honored, he turned and walked toward his daughter.
“Will you dance with your Poppa tonight?”
The way she huffed and turned you would have thought he’d insulted her. In full view of the family, she walked out the front door and marched down the sidewalk, leaving her father alone. Very much alone.
_______________________________________
Madeline came back that night but not for long. Joe never faulted her for leaving. After all, what’s it like being the daughter of a butcher? In their last days together he tried so hard.
He made her favorite dinner-she didn’t want to eat. He invited her to a movie-she just stayed in her room. He bought her a new dress-she didn’t even say thank you. And then there was that spring day he left work early to be at the house when she arrived home from school.
Wouldn’t you know that was the day she never came home.
A friend saw her and her boyfriend in the vicinity of the bus station. The authorities confirmed the purchase of a ticket to Chicago; where she went from there was anybody’s guess.
_____________________________________
The scrawny boy with the tattoos had a cousin. The cousin worked the night shift at a convenience store south of Houston. For a few bucks a month, he would let the runaways stay in his apartment at night, but they had to be out during the day. Which was fine with them. They had big plans. He was going to be a mechanic, and Madeline knew she could get a job at a department store. Of course he knew nothing about cars, and she knew even less about getting a job-but you don’t think about things like that when you’re intoxicated on freedom.
After a couple of weeks, the cousin changed his mind. And the day he announced his decision, the boyfriend announced his. Madeline found herself facing the night with no place to sleep or hand to hold.It was just the first of many such nights.
A woman in the park told her about the homeless shelter near the bridge. For a couple of bucks she could get a bowl of soup and a cot. A couple of bucks was all she had. She used her backpack as a pillow and jacket as a blanket.
The room was so rowdy it was hard to sleep. Madeline turned her face to the wall and, for the first time in several days, thought of the whiskered face of her father kissing her goodnight. But as her eyes began to water, she refused to cry. She pushed the memory deep inside and determined not to think about home. She’d gone too far to go back.
The next morning, the girl in the cot beside her showed her a fistful of tips she’d made dancing on tables.
“This is the last night I’ll have to stay here,” she said. “Now I can pay for my own place. They told me they are looking for another girl. You should come by.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a matchbook. “Here’s the address.”
Madeline’s stomach turned at the thought. All she could do was mumble, “I’ll think about it.”
She spent the rest of the week on the streets looking for work. At the end of the week when it was time to pay her bill at the shelter she reached into her pocket and pulled out the matchbook. It was all she had left.
“I won’t be staying tonight,” she said and walked out the door. Hunger has a way of softening convictions.
___________________________________
If Madeline knew anything she knew how to dance. Her father had taught her. Now men the age of her father watched her.
She didn’t rationalize it-she just didn’t think about it. Madeline simply did her work and took their dollars. She might never have thought about it, except for the letters. The cousin brought them. Not one, or two, but a box full. All addressed to her. All from her father.
“Your old boyfriend must have squealed on you. These come two or three a week,” complained the cousin. “Give him your address.”
Oh, but she couldn’t do that. He might find her. Nor could she bear to open the envelopes. She knew what they said; he wanted her home. But if he knew what she was doing, he wouldn’t be writing. It seemed less painful not to read them. So she didn’t. Not that week, nor the next when the cousin brought more, nor the next when he came again. She kept them in a dressing room at the club, organized according to postmark. She ran her finger over the top of each one but couldn’t bear to open one.
Most days Madeline was able to numb the emotions. Thoughts of home and thoughts of shame were shoved into the same part of her heart. But there were occasions when the thoughts were too strong to resist. Like the time she saw a dress in the clothing store window. A dress the same color as the one her father had purchased for her. A dress that had been far too plain for her.
With much reluctance she had put it on and stood with him before the mirror.
“My, you are as tall as I am,” he had told her.
She had stiffened at his touch. Seeing her weary face reflected in the store window, Madeline realized she’d give a thousand dresses to feel his arm again. She left the store and resolved not to pass by it again.
_______________________________________
In time the leaves fell and the air chilled. The mail came and the cousin complained and stack of letters grew. Still she refused to send him an address. And she refused to read a letter. Then a few days before Christmas Eve another letter arrived. Same shape. Same color. But this one had no postmark. And it was not delivered by the cousin. It was sitting on her dressing room table.
“A couple of days ago a big man stopped by and asked me to give this to you,” explained on of the other dancers. “Said you’d understand the message.”
“He was here?’ she asked anxiously.
The woman shrugged, “Suppose he had to be.”
Madeline swallowed hard and looked at the envelope. She opened it and removed the card.
“I know where you are,” it read. “I know what you do. This doesn’t change the way I feel. What I’ve said in each letter is still true.”
“But I don’t know what you’ve said,’ Madeline declared.
She pulled a letter from the top of the stack and read it. Then a second and a third. Each letter has the same exact sentence. Each sentence asked the same question. In a matter of moments the floor was littered with paper, and her face was streaked with tears.Within an hour she was on a bus.
“I just might make it in time.”
She barely did.
The relatives were starting to leave. Joe was helping Grandma in the kitchen when his brother called from the suddenly quiet den.
“Joe, someone is here to see you.” Joe stepped out of the kitchen and stopped.
In one hand the girl held a backpack. In the other she held a card. He saw the question in her eyes.
“The answer is ‘yes,’” she said to her father. “If the invitation is still good, the answer is ‘yes.’"
Joe swallowed hard.
“Oh my. The invitation is good.”
And so the two danced again on Christmas Eve. On the floor, near the door, rested a letter with Madeline’s name and her father’s request.
“Will you come home and dance with your Poppa again?”
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
esteem
Here are some thoughts I had/have.
How do I look?
Will he say my shirt is nice?
Will she notice my hair?
Will they realise that my belt buckle is new?
Do I really look better in jeans than in berms?
Will this/that look better styled in this/that way? x 100
Really?
But I thought... x 100
Oh I'm not that sure!
But but... x200
What if I did it this way? Compromise?
Will he/she like me more after seeing how uber-good looking I am in this tonight/today? x infinity!
Now come on.
Fess' up, how many of you are like that too? Or much much worse?
Let me give you self-esteem lesson 101.
Okay this may be copyrighted, or it may not cos it's in my own words. But for safety's sake lets just put it as they aren't originally mine as much as I wish.
Having such thoughts are never going to end, and having them doesnt necessarily mean you have a problem with self esteem.
I am going to address the area concerned with how you are perceived by others, and how it's just NOT SUCH A BIG DEAL.
Now, people, being the self-centered human beings that we are, are most concerned with how we appear to others.
We fuss over every single detail, and we want to make ourselves look the best.
This is not wrong, but with the images of beauty constantly stereotyping us whether we want it or not, sometimes we lose sight of the true meaning of beauty.
We constantly cripple our worldview of ourself to one that is less than desirable and think that we constantly are not "good looking" enough.
We may never think so in fact.
And with this comes in a constant sense of insecurity, worry, doubt and even fear.
Magnified, it could lead to a total loss of self-esteem or confidence.
Let me now make it simple for you.
PEOPLE CARE MORE ABOUT HOW THEY ARE PERCEIVED THAN HOW THEY PERCEIVE OTHERS.
Got that?
Want to read it again?
Okay let me give you a simple scenario.
Take a concert or outing for example, it doesnt even have to be at a bar or wherever.
You see someone attractive and the person is staring back at you.
Your first thoughts are:
"Is everything in place?"
(You then do a check from head to toe even though you already have 300 times)
Then:
"Does he/she like how I look?"
And the questions go on and on.
But on the other hand, the other party is thinking exactly the same thing as you are.
EXACTLY THE SAME THING!
Or pretty much.
This is an assumption for the majority of people.
Now let me open the doors for you.
The ones who make it, not only relationally but socially as well, are those who know this exact thing and are able to overcome it.
Those who do not really care about how good they look, be it they already know or they just can't care less, those are the ones who have all the confidence and drive to do what they want.
Why?
Becaused the aren't hindered by "worry" or "insecurity" or "timidness".
They are the ones who can go out and literally play the field.
Don't be so concerned about how you look, for honestly, not more than a handful of people really care.
Like 95% of people will have forgotten how you look the next day or week, so get over your fear!
If someone truly cares for you, then only his/her/their opinions should matter, and using that just follow and believe.
Eventually you'll reach a stage where you'll know well for yourself and then once the confidence and esteem is foundationalised, the world is yours to grasp.
It's funny how this is such a secret when it's kind of common sensical actually.
But honestly, how many people actually know it?
How many people can actually do it?
Why is there still such a host of commercialised programmes to reveal this simple secret?
Because people have a simple want to be assured, to be encouraged.
Yea sure, it does help from time to time now and then, but you'll only get so far. To move on to the next level and beyond, it requires a simple belief in oneself.
Faith in others and ultimately, yourself.
I see this so clearly in one of my closest friends, all the qualities I mention and I can see how he is so going to make it in the future.
Here is his secret for you, worked out simply by the observation guru 101.
Next time you go out into a community, feel good at the power you have knowing that the people you see care much too much about how they look than to give 2cents about you.
Thats basically all they're concerned with perception wise, and if you can just get over your insecurities, you'll find its so much easier to enjoy your time;
So much easier to enjoy life judgement free; in a sense.
Just believe, for afterall, who really cares?
And to those who truly care, your appearance doesn't matter.
Cheers =D
go rule the world already.
How do I look?
Will he say my shirt is nice?
Will she notice my hair?
Will they realise that my belt buckle is new?
Do I really look better in jeans than in berms?
Will this/that look better styled in this/that way? x 100
Really?
But I thought... x 100
Oh I'm not that sure!
But but... x200
What if I did it this way? Compromise?
Will he/she like me more after seeing how uber-good looking I am in this tonight/today? x infinity!
Now come on.
Fess' up, how many of you are like that too? Or much much worse?
Let me give you self-esteem lesson 101.
Okay this may be copyrighted, or it may not cos it's in my own words. But for safety's sake lets just put it as they aren't originally mine as much as I wish.
Having such thoughts are never going to end, and having them doesnt necessarily mean you have a problem with self esteem.
I am going to address the area concerned with how you are perceived by others, and how it's just NOT SUCH A BIG DEAL.
Now, people, being the self-centered human beings that we are, are most concerned with how we appear to others.
We fuss over every single detail, and we want to make ourselves look the best.
This is not wrong, but with the images of beauty constantly stereotyping us whether we want it or not, sometimes we lose sight of the true meaning of beauty.
We constantly cripple our worldview of ourself to one that is less than desirable and think that we constantly are not "good looking" enough.
We may never think so in fact.
And with this comes in a constant sense of insecurity, worry, doubt and even fear.
Magnified, it could lead to a total loss of self-esteem or confidence.
Let me now make it simple for you.
PEOPLE CARE MORE ABOUT HOW THEY ARE PERCEIVED THAN HOW THEY PERCEIVE OTHERS.
Got that?
Want to read it again?
Okay let me give you a simple scenario.
Take a concert or outing for example, it doesnt even have to be at a bar or wherever.
You see someone attractive and the person is staring back at you.
Your first thoughts are:
"Is everything in place?"
(You then do a check from head to toe even though you already have 300 times)
Then:
"Does he/she like how I look?"
And the questions go on and on.
But on the other hand, the other party is thinking exactly the same thing as you are.
EXACTLY THE SAME THING!
Or pretty much.
This is an assumption for the majority of people.
Now let me open the doors for you.
The ones who make it, not only relationally but socially as well, are those who know this exact thing and are able to overcome it.
Those who do not really care about how good they look, be it they already know or they just can't care less, those are the ones who have all the confidence and drive to do what they want.
Why?
Becaused the aren't hindered by "worry" or "insecurity" or "timidness".
They are the ones who can go out and literally play the field.
Don't be so concerned about how you look, for honestly, not more than a handful of people really care.
Like 95% of people will have forgotten how you look the next day or week, so get over your fear!
If someone truly cares for you, then only his/her/their opinions should matter, and using that just follow and believe.
Eventually you'll reach a stage where you'll know well for yourself and then once the confidence and esteem is foundationalised, the world is yours to grasp.
It's funny how this is such a secret when it's kind of common sensical actually.
But honestly, how many people actually know it?
How many people can actually do it?
Why is there still such a host of commercialised programmes to reveal this simple secret?
Because people have a simple want to be assured, to be encouraged.
Yea sure, it does help from time to time now and then, but you'll only get so far. To move on to the next level and beyond, it requires a simple belief in oneself.
Faith in others and ultimately, yourself.
I see this so clearly in one of my closest friends, all the qualities I mention and I can see how he is so going to make it in the future.
Here is his secret for you, worked out simply by the observation guru 101.
Next time you go out into a community, feel good at the power you have knowing that the people you see care much too much about how they look than to give 2cents about you.
Thats basically all they're concerned with perception wise, and if you can just get over your insecurities, you'll find its so much easier to enjoy your time;
So much easier to enjoy life judgement free; in a sense.
Just believe, for afterall, who really cares?
And to those who truly care, your appearance doesn't matter.
Cheers =D
go rule the world already.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
derision
Something cuts within.
It's another familiar feeling, kind of like the rejection I constantly get from girls, just that it's on a whole different deeper level.
You see, in the former case only I suffer, and after awhile I somehow move on better learned and patched up.
In the latter however, someday it just might reach a point where it not only cuts me too deep, but also the ones or one who is involved. And if it all goes bad, it may plain sever all ties.
Ready for it?
Promise me you won't turn away?
Really?
Who am I kidding... oh well =/
Basically, I can't keep secrets.
I'm an open book, if you talk to me long enough, chances are you'll probably know all there is to know about me even if I don't want you to.
Now this is not a worry for me because I guess I'm fine with sharing my heart with you.
The problem comes when it's somebody else's secret I have to keep.
Somebody else's life/reputation/cares/purposes I've been entrusted with.
I've hurt so many many many people by sharing something I shouldn't have with them about someone else that I can't even remember the number.
One thing is for sure though, it's definitely more than all my fingers and toes put together.
If you happen to be one of those people, I am so terribly sorry for displacing your trust in that spur-of-the-moment.
I live with your regret as much as you have in me, and the guilt pinches my heart each time I come to see you or am reminded of how I let you down.
If I had to count the number of secrets I've kept, it would be less than a handful.
And awfully saddening to say, it's usually after I've hurt someone that the next secret they have I keep. It's like only when the guilty facet claws at my open nature that I kick myself and clamp down my tongue.
I know it really sucks when someone betrays your trust, and I bet you understand too.
Take that and multiply it by maybe 20, and you'll see the gravity of my plight to others.
When you have to start over all again to get repoire back when half the world has mis-interpreted what somebody has accidentaly let slip...
Man it really cuts deep.
You have no idea how many times I've wanted to wind the clock back and slap my self before something came out of my mouth.
I hate that my words process faster than my thoughts.
I hate that my "sorry"s and apologies sound so meaningless and rhetoric, but I really, really do mean them.
I admit that I have my pride and 'image' of perfection as I want to be perceived to keep, and in between that half and the other half that truly treasures the friendship, I haven't always chosen the right side.
I'd like so much to say that I'm only human and fallible but clearly amount trumps reason in this case.
I am trying, slowly and painstakingly to keep what needs to be below the surface, and I must say though it's taking plenty of time, I am better off now.
But then days like today come again when a splot of blankness occurs in the recent past and I wind up wishing I had a leash on my mouth once more.
I'm sorry, I really am.
(there I go again, brings to mind the song "apologize" by One Republic.)
I'm not a cynic, and I sure don't want to be a hypocrite or a gossip monger, but I do hope for more chances to change.
I know how absurd it sounds, I mean, why should I need another chance right?
I don't even deserve anymore.
Well I guess what I'm asking for is that the level of intimacy still remains, but I understand if there are certain things you don't want me knowing from now on.
Or rather, you don't mind me knowing but not the other person, and effectively it filters down to just me.
I do however promise never to let loose one more undesirable. I could even swear to try my best never to let slip but hey, trying my best just isn't enough anymore right?
So there you have it.
Me and one of the many flaws I'm trying desperately to remove.
Guess it'll help to tell you so that I've less chances of this recurring.
Just don't isolate me alright?
I mean, I am still a social being after all too.
Yupp.
It's another familiar feeling, kind of like the rejection I constantly get from girls, just that it's on a whole different deeper level.
You see, in the former case only I suffer, and after awhile I somehow move on better learned and patched up.
In the latter however, someday it just might reach a point where it not only cuts me too deep, but also the ones or one who is involved. And if it all goes bad, it may plain sever all ties.
Ready for it?
Promise me you won't turn away?
Really?
Who am I kidding... oh well =/
Basically, I can't keep secrets.
I'm an open book, if you talk to me long enough, chances are you'll probably know all there is to know about me even if I don't want you to.
Now this is not a worry for me because I guess I'm fine with sharing my heart with you.
The problem comes when it's somebody else's secret I have to keep.
Somebody else's life/reputation/cares/purposes I've been entrusted with.
I've hurt so many many many people by sharing something I shouldn't have with them about someone else that I can't even remember the number.
One thing is for sure though, it's definitely more than all my fingers and toes put together.
If you happen to be one of those people, I am so terribly sorry for displacing your trust in that spur-of-the-moment.
I live with your regret as much as you have in me, and the guilt pinches my heart each time I come to see you or am reminded of how I let you down.
If I had to count the number of secrets I've kept, it would be less than a handful.
And awfully saddening to say, it's usually after I've hurt someone that the next secret they have I keep. It's like only when the guilty facet claws at my open nature that I kick myself and clamp down my tongue.
I know it really sucks when someone betrays your trust, and I bet you understand too.
Take that and multiply it by maybe 20, and you'll see the gravity of my plight to others.
When you have to start over all again to get repoire back when half the world has mis-interpreted what somebody has accidentaly let slip...
Man it really cuts deep.
You have no idea how many times I've wanted to wind the clock back and slap my self before something came out of my mouth.
I hate that my words process faster than my thoughts.
I hate that my "sorry"s and apologies sound so meaningless and rhetoric, but I really, really do mean them.
I admit that I have my pride and 'image' of perfection as I want to be perceived to keep, and in between that half and the other half that truly treasures the friendship, I haven't always chosen the right side.
I'd like so much to say that I'm only human and fallible but clearly amount trumps reason in this case.
I am trying, slowly and painstakingly to keep what needs to be below the surface, and I must say though it's taking plenty of time, I am better off now.
But then days like today come again when a splot of blankness occurs in the recent past and I wind up wishing I had a leash on my mouth once more.
I'm sorry, I really am.
(there I go again, brings to mind the song "apologize" by One Republic.)
I'm not a cynic, and I sure don't want to be a hypocrite or a gossip monger, but I do hope for more chances to change.
I know how absurd it sounds, I mean, why should I need another chance right?
I don't even deserve anymore.
Well I guess what I'm asking for is that the level of intimacy still remains, but I understand if there are certain things you don't want me knowing from now on.
Or rather, you don't mind me knowing but not the other person, and effectively it filters down to just me.
I do however promise never to let loose one more undesirable. I could even swear to try my best never to let slip but hey, trying my best just isn't enough anymore right?
So there you have it.
Me and one of the many flaws I'm trying desperately to remove.
Guess it'll help to tell you so that I've less chances of this recurring.
Just don't isolate me alright?
I mean, I am still a social being after all too.
Yupp.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
musicman
I have a problem~!!
Okay well maybe it's not exactly a problem, but for lack of a more positive way to put it.
It's the kind of thing where while you're not aware of it, it's totally fine.
But once you start realising it's there, it gets kind of buggy after awhile.
Get what I mean?
No?
Hmmmm..
Kind of like a scar which you have, when you're busy with a million other chores you totally leave it alone and it's fine.
But once you start staring at it, and staring at it, and staring at it, slowly your hands move in for one scratch.
And another.
And another.
And another.
Till nothing is left but you sadistically enjoying the pain and the sight of your fresh pink and raw skin below.
Hmmmmmmm...
Okay maybe not like that.
Well basically, I've got an absolutely uncurable addiction.
Or actually not an addiction because I'm not consciously partaking or immersing myself in any particular drug, activity or action.
Perhaps to label it a "state-of-mind" would be the most apt!
Yes, it's perfect actually, I'm such a genius xD
Okay okay, it's just simply that I have one song or another stuck in my head ALL THE TIME.
Like from my waking moment to the shower to brushing my teeth to dressing up to the car ride for work to the train ride to the office to lunch to dinner to every activity to when I walk anywhere in the world I'm walking to to meet whoever wants to meet me, I'm constantly beating my foot or tapping my finger or bobbing my head to a song. (Haha bobbing get it?)
Even if I'm not plugged in to an iPod.
It's like, I have the plug-in-to-ear-phones eternally stuck to my eardrums.
Even when I'm about to sleep and fade away for the night there'll be a song playing at the back of my mind.
TAKE NOTE: I'm not hearing things mind you, it's just that I'm forever singing to myself one song or another.
And I just can't stop!!
It's like err..
Yea an addiction! In the gripping sense of the word.
I guess it's really good in some ways, maybe it makes me uber-musical?
But I tend to sing along to whatever song is playing in my head, and sometimes I get weird stares from people in the MRT and Bus Stop haha!!
When that happens my volume suddenly cuts to a whisper, but I continue singing or humming anyway.
And I totally love singing and grooving to the music but...
When it's 24/7...
It gets kinda weird after a while.
And I've probably been doing this for years now but I've only realised it in the past few days.
Hmmmmmmmmmm....
Any one got any tips to help me?
Does this happen to any of you too?
Or perhaps, do all of you have the same tendency?
I'm terribly sorry if I've prematurely made you realise this HAHAHAHAHAHA!
At least now we're all kinda suffering together!
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~~~~!!!
p.s.: when you tag can you please leave your name? so weird to have four anonymous comments on my tagboard!!
p.s.2: and i know who "youdontknowme" is, your writing style is too familiar haha!! see you around, if you get what I mean ;-)
Okay well maybe it's not exactly a problem, but for lack of a more positive way to put it.
It's the kind of thing where while you're not aware of it, it's totally fine.
But once you start realising it's there, it gets kind of buggy after awhile.
Get what I mean?
No?
Hmmmm..
Kind of like a scar which you have, when you're busy with a million other chores you totally leave it alone and it's fine.
But once you start staring at it, and staring at it, and staring at it, slowly your hands move in for one scratch.
And another.
And another.
And another.
Till nothing is left but you sadistically enjoying the pain and the sight of your fresh pink and raw skin below.
Hmmmmmmm...
Okay maybe not like that.
Well basically, I've got an absolutely uncurable addiction.
Or actually not an addiction because I'm not consciously partaking or immersing myself in any particular drug, activity or action.
Perhaps to label it a "state-of-mind" would be the most apt!
Yes, it's perfect actually, I'm such a genius xD
Okay okay, it's just simply that I have one song or another stuck in my head ALL THE TIME.
Like from my waking moment to the shower to brushing my teeth to dressing up to the car ride for work to the train ride to the office to lunch to dinner to every activity to when I walk anywhere in the world I'm walking to to meet whoever wants to meet me, I'm constantly beating my foot or tapping my finger or bobbing my head to a song. (Haha bobbing get it?)
Even if I'm not plugged in to an iPod.
It's like, I have the plug-in-to-ear-phones eternally stuck to my eardrums.
Even when I'm about to sleep and fade away for the night there'll be a song playing at the back of my mind.
TAKE NOTE: I'm not hearing things mind you, it's just that I'm forever singing to myself one song or another.
And I just can't stop!!
It's like err..
Yea an addiction! In the gripping sense of the word.
I guess it's really good in some ways, maybe it makes me uber-musical?
But I tend to sing along to whatever song is playing in my head, and sometimes I get weird stares from people in the MRT and Bus Stop haha!!
When that happens my volume suddenly cuts to a whisper, but I continue singing or humming anyway.
And I totally love singing and grooving to the music but...
When it's 24/7...
It gets kinda weird after a while.
And I've probably been doing this for years now but I've only realised it in the past few days.
Hmmmmmmmmmm....
Any one got any tips to help me?
Does this happen to any of you too?
Or perhaps, do all of you have the same tendency?
I'm terribly sorry if I've prematurely made you realise this HAHAHAHAHAHA!
At least now we're all kinda suffering together!
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~~~~!!!
p.s.: when you tag can you please leave your name? so weird to have four anonymous comments on my tagboard!!
p.s.2: and i know who "youdontknowme" is, your writing style is too familiar haha!! see you around, if you get what I mean ;-)
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
The Man At The Gate
I quarreled with my dad last night.
I hadn't raised my voice at him in a long time, and it especially didn't help that I took after him in the quick-to-be-hot-headed kind of way.
This started in the car ride home after dinner where my mom was ranting about how don't know who and who's children did what kind of finance or business degree and has don't know what job at some big bank just after graduation.
I'll begin from somewhere in the middle.
...................................................................
Me: "Why can't I do what I want?"
"What do you want?"
Me: "As I've said, something in the service industry!"
"What exactly in the service industry?"
Me: "What I've been considering all along, hospitality management or something like that!"
"Accountancy and business also requires alot of social services to others right? Why must you go and do something in which the working hours are so irratic that you'll possibly compromise your family and your friends?"
Me: "But in accountancy or finance got to work like a dog for 10-15 years before I become something with lousy pay!"
"Not like it won't be the same in hotel management?"
Me: "AT LEAST I'M DOING WHAT I WANT?!"
***At this point we're already home, and as we walk toward the house we try as best to avoid each other. He's pissed. I'm upset.
"Don't understand why you want to do this kind of thing you know! Never listen to me!"
***My dad has been explaining to me the hardships of working for a long time, he himself knowing how people who put in the same effort can be paid so differently. He's the type that tries to reason me into doing things. And that's a good thing actually.
Me: "My teachers tell me one thing, you tell me the something else!"
"WHAT do your teachers say?"
Me: "That I should do what I want not what my parents want!!!!!!!!!!"
Silence for a moment.
"AIYA then you go and do your social science or whatever in the NUS or SMU faculty of Arts and Social Science la, NO WAY I'm funding you round the world for some lousy and unsteady degree!!!!"
Slams his room door.
"He's bloody naiive!" I hear him shout to my mother from their room.
I sigh.
It sucked so much at that point, heart and mind so conflicted.
"God why does this have to happen!? I hate this so much!"
I turn on my computer and see my brother online, and I began pouring out what just happened to him.
If there's one guy in the world who can reason better than my dad or sis, my sis being a lawyer mind you, and I've said this before, it's my brother.
There's never going to be enough admiration and love I can have for him. He always has the right words and meaning to make me think clearly for myself. And he isn't on my side most the time.
Well I'm not going to add another long conversation and will cut a long story short.
I'll just quote the part that struck me the most.
Paul: "Do you know how hard daddy and mommy had to work so that we could live as comfortably as we did?
I'm living by myself here in australia and I have to pay water, gas, electricity, power and food bills and it's really very very expensive.
We're really blessed and daddy is just speaking from a point of experience.
Don't you want to have a steady profession that will enable your family to grow up like we did?"
The last line really made me ponder super a lot.
"enable your family to grow up like we did?"
And in my conclusion, I decided that I really do want my kids and my wife to have a comfortable life, possible one better that I grew up with.
....................................................................
This morning as my dad drove me to work we both apologised to each other and I began to see things from his side more too. And we had a good long chat about working life.
Well mainly from his side.
....................................................................
This is growing up.
Adult hood isn't "going to be" anymore, it's here already.
Guess I wasn't prepared enough for it and still am in the i'm-still-a-kid-everythings-going-to-be-alright kind of mood.
We'll I hope everything will still be alright for me, but from here out I'm on a limb; it's my decisions now that will decide my future.
My decisions.
It feels totally new having to plan for what's ahead.
I wish someone had told me earlier it was going to be so hard.
But I was just looking through the ACJC Annual the other day in the office, an even though I've read it and heard it so many times, it always means so much more the next time I read it.
THE MAN AT THE GATE
I just realised that I've never seen the last part of the saying before!!!!!!!
The Annual never printed it, its only on the internet!
Guess it's cos it's the part I'm supposed to figure myself only when I have done the prior.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Dear God, give me the faith to place my path into Your hands.
I await the light.
I hadn't raised my voice at him in a long time, and it especially didn't help that I took after him in the quick-to-be-hot-headed kind of way.
This started in the car ride home after dinner where my mom was ranting about how don't know who and who's children did what kind of finance or business degree and has don't know what job at some big bank just after graduation.
I'll begin from somewhere in the middle.
...................................................................
Me: "Why can't I do what I want?"
"What do you want?"
Me: "As I've said, something in the service industry!"
"What exactly in the service industry?"
Me: "What I've been considering all along, hospitality management or something like that!"
"Accountancy and business also requires alot of social services to others right? Why must you go and do something in which the working hours are so irratic that you'll possibly compromise your family and your friends?"
Me: "But in accountancy or finance got to work like a dog for 10-15 years before I become something with lousy pay!"
"Not like it won't be the same in hotel management?"
Me: "AT LEAST I'M DOING WHAT I WANT?!"
***At this point we're already home, and as we walk toward the house we try as best to avoid each other. He's pissed. I'm upset.
"Don't understand why you want to do this kind of thing you know! Never listen to me!"
***My dad has been explaining to me the hardships of working for a long time, he himself knowing how people who put in the same effort can be paid so differently. He's the type that tries to reason me into doing things. And that's a good thing actually.
Me: "My teachers tell me one thing, you tell me the something else!"
"WHAT do your teachers say?"
Me: "That I should do what I want not what my parents want!!!!!!!!!!"
Silence for a moment.
"AIYA then you go and do your social science or whatever in the NUS or SMU faculty of Arts and Social Science la, NO WAY I'm funding you round the world for some lousy and unsteady degree!!!!"
Slams his room door.
"He's bloody naiive!" I hear him shout to my mother from their room.
I sigh.
It sucked so much at that point, heart and mind so conflicted.
"God why does this have to happen!? I hate this so much!"
I turn on my computer and see my brother online, and I began pouring out what just happened to him.
If there's one guy in the world who can reason better than my dad or sis, my sis being a lawyer mind you, and I've said this before, it's my brother.
There's never going to be enough admiration and love I can have for him. He always has the right words and meaning to make me think clearly for myself. And he isn't on my side most the time.
Well I'm not going to add another long conversation and will cut a long story short.
I'll just quote the part that struck me the most.
Paul: "Do you know how hard daddy and mommy had to work so that we could live as comfortably as we did?
I'm living by myself here in australia and I have to pay water, gas, electricity, power and food bills and it's really very very expensive.
We're really blessed and daddy is just speaking from a point of experience.
Don't you want to have a steady profession that will enable your family to grow up like we did?"
The last line really made me ponder super a lot.
"enable your family to grow up like we did?"
And in my conclusion, I decided that I really do want my kids and my wife to have a comfortable life, possible one better that I grew up with.
....................................................................
This morning as my dad drove me to work we both apologised to each other and I began to see things from his side more too. And we had a good long chat about working life.
Well mainly from his side.
....................................................................
This is growing up.
Adult hood isn't "going to be" anymore, it's here already.
Guess I wasn't prepared enough for it and still am in the i'm-still-a-kid-everythings-going-to-be-alright kind of mood.
We'll I hope everything will still be alright for me, but from here out I'm on a limb; it's my decisions now that will decide my future.
My decisions.
It feels totally new having to plan for what's ahead.
I wish someone had told me earlier it was going to be so hard.
But I was just looking through the ACJC Annual the other day in the office, an even though I've read it and heard it so many times, it always means so much more the next time I read it.
THE MAN AT THE GATE
I said to the man
Who stood at the gate of the year,
“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”
And he replied,
“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God
That shall be to you
Better than the light
And safer than a known way!”
So I went forth
And finding the hand of God
Trod gladly into the light.
I just realised that I've never seen the last part of the saying before!!!!!!!
The Annual never printed it, its only on the internet!
Guess it's cos it's the part I'm supposed to figure myself only when I have done the prior.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Dear God, give me the faith to place my path into Your hands.
I await the light.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
catch me, please
He looks at what blankly stares him back in the face.
He knows this feeling.
It's rare, but one that is unforgettable.
He was preparing, he really was.
Yet somehow it always wasn't the same.
All at once a rush of emotions hits him.
He doesn't know what to feel.
He wanted so much to feel one of the two ideal ways.
Now he just corroded on the inside.
His mind goes blank.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He dials his phone.
"Pa, yeah I found out already. I got..."
"Oh I see...."
He tries to reason to both how maybe it ain't all bad.
"Don't worry it's okay, we'll work something out"
"Yea... I'm really sorry pa, I really tried my best you know..."
His voice is shaking; breaking.
He's on the verge, but as he's in the middle of the green he can't do it yet.
"Don't worry it's fine, we know you did all you could."
His chest tightens for the slightest of moments.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He strums his guitar in the way he usually would.
But behind each strum focus was lost.
He couldn't worship.
It was all too noisy, frantic, passionate, quiet and reverent at once.
The self-terms lie there just out of reach of his tongue.
Hypocrite.
Liar.
Broken promises.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He watches as they go on to stage.
He already knows, yet though it was supposed to be better it also made him depraved.
Smiles all round.
Pain inside.
Avoidance of others.
Just like his usual angry self.
Devastation.
Consolation comes in waves.
What useless nonsense, it didnt help him change anything.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He knew he had to, he knew he had to be ministered to.
Dinner could wait.
Finally in the third session of the day, he didn't have to play for nor lead others.
He stood there in the midst and judged.
Trying desperately to worship but his mind couldnt help but pinpoint every hitch.
He needed to stop.
He wanted to stop.
He needed to be still.
He sat down.
He knelt.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
All the songs he so wanted to sing got played.
He shook uncontrollably; tears streaking down his face; head buried in his hands; knees imprinting the floor.
The feelings he had missed so much, the spiritual touch just consumed him from the inside.
He shook uncontrollably; tears streaking down his face; head buried in his hands; knees imprinting the floor.
He wished so hard that someone would pray for him there and then.
That someone would kneel along with him.
David, his cf president who knelt beside him put his arm around immediately and started to pray.
The shaking heightened; the tears just couldn't stop.
The comfort God brings.
It's never coincidental.
The words people pray.
God spoken.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A new song began.
The lyrics began to minister.
The hypocracy of his mind broke him even more.
Whathe had promised to God, finally came to three hours after.
His chest was so tight, he had to gasp for breath intermittently in between wiping the tears and mucus away.
"I'm.. so so sorry..."
The sorrow and grief within began to lift.
He couldnt explain the peace.
He felt the comfort.
He felt the forgiveness.
He felt the stillness.
He felt the grace.
Oh yes, the amazing grace.
He stood up. And remained still for a long period.
A smile slowly curved. One that hadn't been so for many an hour.
A real smile.
.
.
.
.
.
Thank you.
And thank You.
He knows this feeling.
It's rare, but one that is unforgettable.
He was preparing, he really was.
Yet somehow it always wasn't the same.
All at once a rush of emotions hits him.
He doesn't know what to feel.
He wanted so much to feel one of the two ideal ways.
Now he just corroded on the inside.
His mind goes blank.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He dials his phone.
"Pa, yeah I found out already. I got..."
"Oh I see...."
He tries to reason to both how maybe it ain't all bad.
"Don't worry it's okay, we'll work something out"
"Yea... I'm really sorry pa, I really tried my best you know..."
His voice is shaking; breaking.
He's on the verge, but as he's in the middle of the green he can't do it yet.
"Don't worry it's fine, we know you did all you could."
His chest tightens for the slightest of moments.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He strums his guitar in the way he usually would.
But behind each strum focus was lost.
He couldn't worship.
It was all too noisy, frantic, passionate, quiet and reverent at once.
The self-terms lie there just out of reach of his tongue.
Hypocrite.
Liar.
Broken promises.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He watches as they go on to stage.
He already knows, yet though it was supposed to be better it also made him depraved.
Smiles all round.
Pain inside.
Avoidance of others.
Just like his usual angry self.
Devastation.
Consolation comes in waves.
What useless nonsense, it didnt help him change anything.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He knew he had to, he knew he had to be ministered to.
Dinner could wait.
Finally in the third session of the day, he didn't have to play for nor lead others.
He stood there in the midst and judged.
Trying desperately to worship but his mind couldnt help but pinpoint every hitch.
He needed to stop.
He wanted to stop.
He needed to be still.
He sat down.
He knelt.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
All the songs he so wanted to sing got played.
He shook uncontrollably; tears streaking down his face; head buried in his hands; knees imprinting the floor.
The feelings he had missed so much, the spiritual touch just consumed him from the inside.
He shook uncontrollably; tears streaking down his face; head buried in his hands; knees imprinting the floor.
He wished so hard that someone would pray for him there and then.
That someone would kneel along with him.
David, his cf president who knelt beside him put his arm around immediately and started to pray.
The shaking heightened; the tears just couldn't stop.
The comfort God brings.
It's never coincidental.
The words people pray.
God spoken.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A new song began.
The lyrics began to minister.
The hypocracy of his mind broke him even more.
Whathe had promised to God, finally came to three hours after.
His chest was so tight, he had to gasp for breath intermittently in between wiping the tears and mucus away.
"I'm.. so so sorry..."
The sorrow and grief within began to lift.
He couldnt explain the peace.
He felt the comfort.
He felt the forgiveness.
He felt the stillness.
He felt the grace.
Oh yes, the amazing grace.
He stood up. And remained still for a long period.
A smile slowly curved. One that hadn't been so for many an hour.
A real smile.
.
.
.
.
.
Thank you.
And thank You.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Max Lucado - God's Gifts
Have you ever wondered why God gives so much? We could exist on far less.
He could have left the world flat and grey; we wouldn't have know the difference.
But He didn't.
He splashed orange in the sunrise,
and cast the sky in blue.
And if you love to see geese as they gather, chances are you'll see that too.
Was He obliged to make the birds sing?
Or the majesty of thunder when it rings?
Why give food its taste?
Could it be He loves to see that look upon your face?
If we give gifts to show our love, how much more would He?
If we - speckled with foibles and greed - love to give gifts, how much more does God, pure and perfect God, enjoy giving gifts to us?
He could have left the world flat and grey; we wouldn't have know the difference.
But He didn't.
He splashed orange in the sunrise,
and cast the sky in blue.
And if you love to see geese as they gather, chances are you'll see that too.
Did He have to make the squirrels tail furry?
Was He obliged to make the birds sing?
And the funny way that chickens scurry,
Or the majesty of thunder when it rings?
Why give food its taste?
Could it be He loves to see that look upon your face?
If we give gifts to show our love, how much more would He?
If we - speckled with foibles and greed - love to give gifts, how much more does God, pure and perfect God, enjoy giving gifts to us?
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Level Up
5 years.
That's all my leader challenged me.
Will I still be a christian in 5 years time?
Will I still be as on fire for Jesus as I am now?
It seemed so easy, at the start of this year after the end year camp-hype to blurt out "Yes I will~!!!" like it was the stupidest question on earth.
But then the year progressed, and I began to understand the complexity; the reality behind that question.
And I haven't even entered army.
It was so systematic, so these-are-the-steps to follow all throughout my school life to being a "good" christian, and I guess back then in my still maturing walk with Christ it was alright.
But now everything is gone. Or almost.
Devotions every single morning.
Chapel every week.
Worship at the bleachers bi-weekly.
Choir teachers constantly reinforcing who the center of all our music-making and efforts is, and commiting everything to Him.
Friends to discuss about staying strong during my breaks.
At night, the routine quiet time with God.
And all this in my hecting like crazy schedule while studying for the A Levels and somehow I managed to pull it off.
Now, but a trace of what was once the core of my being.
Being out of school definitely opened my eyes to the truth of my fervour.
When all the bustling activities finally cleared out of my schedule; when I began to have all the time in the world to spend with God, somehow it just didn't happen.
I went through January and most of February falling further and further away than I've ever been. All the spiritual spoon-feeding which I used to take for granted; I miss so terribly.
Quiet time became so hard to do. I just didn't seem to have the energy to open my bible even though I spent the whole day practically doing nothing.
And with that my songwriting, the very talent that crystalizes my spiritual walk, from the extreme highs to the desperate lows, began to ebb away too.
My plans to record an album vanished and many of my songs still lie half-done.
"WHAT IN THE WORLD AM I DOING"
You don't know how many times I've asked myself that question lately.
And as I fell into sin after sin I began to think it was alright. That you know, God would forgive me and whatever. That it wasn't so wrong.
That maybe I should be out there with the rest of the world enjoying life for, hey, since it's part of God's creation too why not?
And slowly but surely, my life began to crumble.
"hypocrite" wouldn't be barely enough to define me, even though I didn't actually do many things wrong.
My peaceful sleep that I used to have all throughout JC became restless nights and each day seemed just like the day before and the next day; purposeless.
Purposeless.
Lukewarm.
Those are the things I hate the most. Being totally devoid of conviction or emotion is the worst outcome possible.
And the guilt and shame eventually built up so much I brokedown and just took out my guitar and started to try and worship God again like I used to.
And the songs just came and came as I poured out myself to God and eventually I began writing a completely new song which I will share with you in a different post.
But now I understand the sheer reality of the statement "following Jesus is a choice".
And I'm beginning to see ever more slowly but surely, and mind you this is very very hard for me to do even though it seems so freaking easy to say, that it's about following Jesus "everyday"
Not once a week.
Not when I feel like it.
But always.
And don't you dare "Amen" to that unless you know how freaking hard it is too.
Let me change the orthodox question.
It's not: You sure you going to follow Jesus when you have a million other things to do?
But: You sure you going to follow Jesus when you have nothing else to do?
Seems that I put it wrong?
No I didn't, read it again.
.
.
.
.
.
Still seems wrong?
Alright you tell me how easy it was for you when you had all the time in the world to seek God and you did and I'll shout a big "HALLELUJAH" for you.
........................................................................................................................
Today as I was walking to the mrt from work and listening to "Peace Be Still" by Rush of Fools on my ipod, God suddenly spoke to me.
It just seemed so clear all at once what I had to do; what I have to do.
"You want to level up? You want to move to the next phase of intimacy with Me?"
Now that's the question burning in my mind for quite a long time, though I never quite dared to ask it.
And now as a bonus of bonuses, I was getting the answer.
"You want to move on to the next level? Break those strongholds. Break them."
And these simple words, though repeated umpteen times by my pastors, suddenly cut to my heart.
.
.
.
.
.
The next phase of my christian journey starts now.
5 years?
It's going to be one heck of a battle.
Hope you'll be not on my side, because there are times when I will falter, but that you're there on Jesus's side to pull me back.
5 years.
C'mon.
Time to level up.
That's all my leader challenged me.
Will I still be a christian in 5 years time?
Will I still be as on fire for Jesus as I am now?
It seemed so easy, at the start of this year after the end year camp-hype to blurt out "Yes I will~!!!" like it was the stupidest question on earth.
But then the year progressed, and I began to understand the complexity; the reality behind that question.
And I haven't even entered army.
It was so systematic, so these-are-the-steps to follow all throughout my school life to being a "good" christian, and I guess back then in my still maturing walk with Christ it was alright.
But now everything is gone. Or almost.
Devotions every single morning.
Chapel every week.
Worship at the bleachers bi-weekly.
Choir teachers constantly reinforcing who the center of all our music-making and efforts is, and commiting everything to Him.
Friends to discuss about staying strong during my breaks.
At night, the routine quiet time with God.
And all this in my hecting like crazy schedule while studying for the A Levels and somehow I managed to pull it off.
Now, but a trace of what was once the core of my being.
Being out of school definitely opened my eyes to the truth of my fervour.
When all the bustling activities finally cleared out of my schedule; when I began to have all the time in the world to spend with God, somehow it just didn't happen.
I went through January and most of February falling further and further away than I've ever been. All the spiritual spoon-feeding which I used to take for granted; I miss so terribly.
Quiet time became so hard to do. I just didn't seem to have the energy to open my bible even though I spent the whole day practically doing nothing.
And with that my songwriting, the very talent that crystalizes my spiritual walk, from the extreme highs to the desperate lows, began to ebb away too.
My plans to record an album vanished and many of my songs still lie half-done.
"WHAT IN THE WORLD AM I DOING"
You don't know how many times I've asked myself that question lately.
And as I fell into sin after sin I began to think it was alright. That you know, God would forgive me and whatever. That it wasn't so wrong.
That maybe I should be out there with the rest of the world enjoying life for, hey, since it's part of God's creation too why not?
And slowly but surely, my life began to crumble.
"hypocrite" wouldn't be barely enough to define me, even though I didn't actually do many things wrong.
My peaceful sleep that I used to have all throughout JC became restless nights and each day seemed just like the day before and the next day; purposeless.
Purposeless.
Lukewarm.
Those are the things I hate the most. Being totally devoid of conviction or emotion is the worst outcome possible.
And the guilt and shame eventually built up so much I brokedown and just took out my guitar and started to try and worship God again like I used to.
And the songs just came and came as I poured out myself to God and eventually I began writing a completely new song which I will share with you in a different post.
But now I understand the sheer reality of the statement "following Jesus is a choice".
And I'm beginning to see ever more slowly but surely, and mind you this is very very hard for me to do even though it seems so freaking easy to say, that it's about following Jesus "everyday"
Not once a week.
Not when I feel like it.
But always.
And don't you dare "Amen" to that unless you know how freaking hard it is too.
Let me change the orthodox question.
It's not: You sure you going to follow Jesus when you have a million other things to do?
But: You sure you going to follow Jesus when you have nothing else to do?
Seems that I put it wrong?
No I didn't, read it again.
.
.
.
.
.
Still seems wrong?
Alright you tell me how easy it was for you when you had all the time in the world to seek God and you did and I'll shout a big "HALLELUJAH" for you.
........................................................................................................................
Today as I was walking to the mrt from work and listening to "Peace Be Still" by Rush of Fools on my ipod, God suddenly spoke to me.
It just seemed so clear all at once what I had to do; what I have to do.
"You want to level up? You want to move to the next phase of intimacy with Me?"
Now that's the question burning in my mind for quite a long time, though I never quite dared to ask it.
And now as a bonus of bonuses, I was getting the answer.
"You want to move on to the next level? Break those strongholds. Break them."
And these simple words, though repeated umpteen times by my pastors, suddenly cut to my heart.
.
.
.
.
.
The next phase of my christian journey starts now.
5 years?
It's going to be one heck of a battle.
Hope you'll be not on my side, because there are times when I will falter, but that you're there on Jesus's side to pull me back.
5 years.
C'mon.
Time to level up.
Monday, February 25, 2008
and all this is for You
Jesus, lover of my soul
All consuming fire is in Your gaze
Jesus, I want you to know
I will follow You all my days
All consuming fire is in Your gaze
Jesus, I want you to know
I will follow You all my days
For no one else in history is like You
And history itself belongs to You
Alpha and Omega, You have loved me
And I will share eternity with You
It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and Your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to Your ways
Thursday, February 21, 2008
The In Between
I'm back here again
I'm sitting on the fence
I'm trying to reach what's in front of me, what I want
Problem is, I think, once again
I'm grasping for what I cannot have
What doesn't want me back
Some call it paranoia
Others, a lack of courage of thereoff
For me, a mountain of fear
Or practicality as I'd like to lie to myself
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm supposed to do something;
Maybe I'm right, and I'm going to end up shamed once more
Interpretations are always so hard on this side
It blows to be the one having to 'do something'
I hate my assumptions;
They're always so wrong or too right
It cripples me the most, my barrage of thoughts
Yet it also is the only thing preserving my dignity or what little of it I possess
I wish I had time; I really don't
I wish I could figure things out; yet I never will
I wish I had more signs; and yet it makes it unfair
I wish it were easier, that for once I can grasp the one I want
Should I be halting, are my assumptions right afterall?
Should I stop and let another one pass; let you pass
Should I be taking a step forward
Or in so doing will I find myself two steps back
Something pops, making me wonder if this will make a difference
I hope it does, yet who am I kidding
But I just have to ask,
Is it me you're referring to?
If not, spare me my struggles and for once
Please, let me be the one to pass instead
Goodnight
I'm sitting on the fence
I'm trying to reach what's in front of me, what I want
Problem is, I think, once again
I'm grasping for what I cannot have
What doesn't want me back
Some call it paranoia
Others, a lack of courage of thereoff
For me, a mountain of fear
Or practicality as I'd like to lie to myself
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm supposed to do something;
Maybe I'm right, and I'm going to end up shamed once more
Interpretations are always so hard on this side
It blows to be the one having to 'do something'
I hate my assumptions;
They're always so wrong or too right
It cripples me the most, my barrage of thoughts
Yet it also is the only thing preserving my dignity or what little of it I possess
I wish I had time; I really don't
I wish I could figure things out; yet I never will
I wish I had more signs; and yet it makes it unfair
I wish it were easier, that for once I can grasp the one I want
Should I be halting, are my assumptions right afterall?
Should I stop and let another one pass; let you pass
Should I be taking a step forward
Or in so doing will I find myself two steps back
Something pops, making me wonder if this will make a difference
I hope it does, yet who am I kidding
But I just have to ask,
Is it me you're referring to?
If not, spare me my struggles and for once
Please, let me be the one to pass instead
Goodnight
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Irony
Gosh.
I feel so stupid right now.
Dear Lord, why doeth Thou constantly slap me in the face and play with my heartstrings? Do thoust not knoweth that I am but a fragile being merely trying to be someone who waiteth on thee?
It's like everything right yet so wrong at the same time. Jingwei Vs Seth.
One desperately kicking me to look up. The other desperately kicking me to move my sorry behind.
Dear Lord, I see the plan so clearly, yet I do not see it at all.
"they shall be seeing but not perceiving..."
Defines me totally.
Okay let me start telling my story now.
Basically, this valentine was no different from any other.
Okay actually it was different, but in a worse way.
I SPENT VALENTINES NIGHT ALL ALONE THIS YEAR
Sorry I'm not that devastated actually, I just felt like making it bold for fun =)
Yes so I spent it all alone, not with my entire class like last year, not even with my parents or my bro cos they were all out!!
So sad right?
I had it all planned out. Every single thing I was going to do for the girl.
Yet when it came to the crux, be it a matter of unlucky timing or otherwise, I couldn't make it happen.
With the next day came another chance, but what Jingwei said got to me and I realised that I probably should wait because it's just...
AHHH I feel so stupid after reading =(
So anyway, that night after work I ta paoed food from Chomp Chomp and sat at home and ate by myself.
And now that I think about it, as I walked home from the hawker centre and just gazed up at the cool night sky with the wind blowing in my face and the stars dimly twinkling, I couldnt help but ponder to myself:
It's valentines day.
It's the day of love, or "irrational love for irrational reasons" as one of my friends put it so aptly.
But seriously, do we show that love on that special day to the one who cares for us the most?
Did we spend any time at all with God in the midst of all the flurry of the day, just to say "Dear God, I love you!"??
Do we have an irrational love back for Him who firsts irrationally loves us?
I want to have that love. I've always talked and thought about being totally foolish for Him, not caring what the world will think.
I guess I was wrong after all.
I wasn't alone on Valentines Day.
In fact, I spent it with the most awesome person ever.
Guess maturing really helps me keep a tight rein on my heartstrings.
Sorry to anyone who assumed I was happy frolicking with someone on valentines day! I didn't mean to fool you cos when I posted it I actually meant it back then.
Sorry to anonymous for bluffing you too, next time we go chill somewhere cool k?
Dear Lord, guess You were right after all.
P.S.: Thanks for the lovely job, it doesn't get much better than this and the vday mistake seems more like a blessing =)Love You Lord.
I feel so stupid right now.
Dear Lord, why doeth Thou constantly slap me in the face and play with my heartstrings? Do thoust not knoweth that I am but a fragile being merely trying to be someone who waiteth on thee?
It's like everything right yet so wrong at the same time. Jingwei Vs Seth.
One desperately kicking me to look up. The other desperately kicking me to move my sorry behind.
Dear Lord, I see the plan so clearly, yet I do not see it at all.
"they shall be seeing but not perceiving..."
Defines me totally.
Okay let me start telling my story now.
Basically, this valentine was no different from any other.
Okay actually it was different, but in a worse way.
I SPENT VALENTINES NIGHT ALL ALONE THIS YEAR
Sorry I'm not that devastated actually, I just felt like making it bold for fun =)
Yes so I spent it all alone, not with my entire class like last year, not even with my parents or my bro cos they were all out!!
So sad right?
I had it all planned out. Every single thing I was going to do for the girl.
Yet when it came to the crux, be it a matter of unlucky timing or otherwise, I couldn't make it happen.
With the next day came another chance, but what Jingwei said got to me and I realised that I probably should wait because it's just...
AHHH I feel so stupid after reading =(
So anyway, that night after work I ta paoed food from Chomp Chomp and sat at home and ate by myself.
And now that I think about it, as I walked home from the hawker centre and just gazed up at the cool night sky with the wind blowing in my face and the stars dimly twinkling, I couldnt help but ponder to myself:
It's valentines day.
It's the day of love, or "irrational love for irrational reasons" as one of my friends put it so aptly.
But seriously, do we show that love on that special day to the one who cares for us the most?
Did we spend any time at all with God in the midst of all the flurry of the day, just to say "Dear God, I love you!"??
Do we have an irrational love back for Him who firsts irrationally loves us?
I want to have that love. I've always talked and thought about being totally foolish for Him, not caring what the world will think.
I guess I was wrong after all.
I wasn't alone on Valentines Day.
In fact, I spent it with the most awesome person ever.
Guess maturing really helps me keep a tight rein on my heartstrings.
Sorry to anyone who assumed I was happy frolicking with someone on valentines day! I didn't mean to fool you cos when I posted it I actually meant it back then.
Sorry to anonymous for bluffing you too, next time we go chill somewhere cool k?
Dear Lord, guess You were right after all.
P.S.: Thanks for the lovely job, it doesn't get much better than this and the vday mistake seems more like a blessing =)Love You Lord.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Growing Up
What a terribly accelerated society we live in.
People rushing everywhere, complaining about everything, hating others for the sheer fact that they made us wait a little longer than we expected when they are just doing their job etcetc.
And it doesnt help that we are youths; that I am a young testosterone-filled punk.
I go overseas and am blown away completely as I see how life is supposed to be lived, at least in the 'taking time to enjoy it' sense of the word.
People in America, Europe, UK, Japan and even Malaysia are much less hurried and easily agitated than we are. We like to rush everything, show all signs of displeasure as if it is the end of the world if we don't get our takeaway on time or kena a traffic light, and scream and complain and complain and complain...
No wonder we have to come up with acronyms such as 'kiasu', 'kiasee' and kia-justabouteverythingwecanbeputinto to barely define what Singaporeans are like.
Then the snowball begins.
One such minute happening at any point of the day triggers our spiral into fury and contempt for life; one exaggerated molehill and our whole day is ruined, and the point of bliss is shattered by a random statement by anyone or anything you can think of a reason to hate.
I am guilty of such.
Maybe it's the mindset of the environment we grew up in, maybe its the constant heat, maybe its the testosterone bursting bodies we live in that seem to carry on into adulthood that has forged such a unique albeit undesirable society.
But can we really excuse ourselves of our flaws?
There are an infinite amount of reasons to explain our lack of patience away, but at the end of the day, do we even have it in the first place?
Patience: the ability to wait calmly for a long time and not be made angry by delay.
Did you just read that?
It's an ability.
Yes, at some point it entails an innate subsistence, but more importantly, it requires practice. It ain't going to come naturally 24/7.
Fused with the efforts of everyone to try and be patient, just imagine what a better place we would live in? And how much better we'd feel?
We won't be upset at every negligible action.
We won't be feeling like crap every moment of the day.
We'd in fact have a light and cheery feeling that we'd never thought possible before.
How do I know all this??
Simply because I have been trying recently very hard to be patient.
Very very hard mind you.
Millions of times I just wanted to burst out screaming and cursing about one setback or another, but I immediately think:
"Will feeling this way change anything? Will being upset help me?"
Every single time my response has been:
"Guess not, let me just take a step back and enjoy the sights instead."
Immediately, I can feel the peace in my heart.
Immediately.
No wonder patient people are always the most jovial. They know how to enjoy life and pretty well at that.
Patient people aren't weird, they are just like you and me, but with a decision to keep their heads and their emotions firmly in place.
I challenge you practice patience just five times today, when you are the most frustrated.
Take a step back just five times and suck it up. And you come back and tell me the difference you feel.
If you don't feel any difference, either you're not doing it right and still are holding something back, or I will personally apologise to you for my writing of this post and give you a hongbao, I promise.
5 times, see how much better you immediately feel.
Not too much to ask?
Remember, patience is an ability ;-)
People rushing everywhere, complaining about everything, hating others for the sheer fact that they made us wait a little longer than we expected when they are just doing their job etcetc.
And it doesnt help that we are youths; that I am a young testosterone-filled punk.
I go overseas and am blown away completely as I see how life is supposed to be lived, at least in the 'taking time to enjoy it' sense of the word.
People in America, Europe, UK, Japan and even Malaysia are much less hurried and easily agitated than we are. We like to rush everything, show all signs of displeasure as if it is the end of the world if we don't get our takeaway on time or kena a traffic light, and scream and complain and complain and complain...
No wonder we have to come up with acronyms such as 'kiasu', 'kiasee' and kia-justabouteverythingwecanbeputinto to barely define what Singaporeans are like.
Then the snowball begins.
One such minute happening at any point of the day triggers our spiral into fury and contempt for life; one exaggerated molehill and our whole day is ruined, and the point of bliss is shattered by a random statement by anyone or anything you can think of a reason to hate.
I am guilty of such.
Maybe it's the mindset of the environment we grew up in, maybe its the constant heat, maybe its the testosterone bursting bodies we live in that seem to carry on into adulthood that has forged such a unique albeit undesirable society.
But can we really excuse ourselves of our flaws?
There are an infinite amount of reasons to explain our lack of patience away, but at the end of the day, do we even have it in the first place?
Patience: the ability to wait calmly for a long time and not be made angry by delay.
Did you just read that?
It's an ability.
Yes, at some point it entails an innate subsistence, but more importantly, it requires practice. It ain't going to come naturally 24/7.
Fused with the efforts of everyone to try and be patient, just imagine what a better place we would live in? And how much better we'd feel?
We won't be upset at every negligible action.
We won't be feeling like crap every moment of the day.
We'd in fact have a light and cheery feeling that we'd never thought possible before.
How do I know all this??
Simply because I have been trying recently very hard to be patient.
Very very hard mind you.
Millions of times I just wanted to burst out screaming and cursing about one setback or another, but I immediately think:
"Will feeling this way change anything? Will being upset help me?"
Every single time my response has been:
"Guess not, let me just take a step back and enjoy the sights instead."
Immediately, I can feel the peace in my heart.
Immediately.
No wonder patient people are always the most jovial. They know how to enjoy life and pretty well at that.
Patient people aren't weird, they are just like you and me, but with a decision to keep their heads and their emotions firmly in place.
I challenge you practice patience just five times today, when you are the most frustrated.
Take a step back just five times and suck it up. And you come back and tell me the difference you feel.
If you don't feel any difference, either you're not doing it right and still are holding something back, or I will personally apologise to you for my writing of this post and give you a hongbao, I promise.
5 times, see how much better you immediately feel.
Not too much to ask?
Remember, patience is an ability ;-)
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
White Christmas. One Month Late
I'm dreaming of a white christmas,
Just like the ones I never knew.
Where the treetops aren't here (not in concrete Singapore)
And children disappear
To watch cinema movie
Ahh.. my favourite self-written version of the song =)
So anyways, I'll be off to ski in the USA at Salt Lake City from tmr till the 4th of Feb. So please dont try to reach me. I won't be bringing my phone.
Haha so I'll try to remember all of u here in sunny singapore while I'm off freezing my behind waaaaay up in the mountains. Will be back for Chinese New Year so dont leave me out~!!!
Please pray I dont kena frost bite like I did when I was six and my hand turned blue =/
Other than that, cya guys when I next cya~~!!! =) x) xD
Just like the ones I never knew.
Where the treetops aren't here (not in concrete Singapore)
And children disappear
To watch cinema movie
Ahh.. my favourite self-written version of the song =)
So anyways, I'll be off to ski in the USA at Salt Lake City from tmr till the 4th of Feb. So please dont try to reach me. I won't be bringing my phone.
Haha so I'll try to remember all of u here in sunny singapore while I'm off freezing my behind waaaaay up in the mountains. Will be back for Chinese New Year so dont leave me out~!!!
Please pray I dont kena frost bite like I did when I was six and my hand turned blue =/
Other than that, cya guys when I next cya~~!!! =) x) xD
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Accelerated Fitness Activity Training Menu And News (A.FAT.MAN)
Hello~!
The plan is to stop obesity and get fit because I have nothing better to do all day since I haven't got a job and I don't want to laze around all day!!
So my plan is:
Everyday - run >6 km and hope to up it soon to match the cross country team who runs like 8-10 km every two days or so 0.0
Monday - go for frisbee training at acsi
As of today, I shall introduce to you my A.FAT.MAN programme!!
The plan is to stop obesity and get fit because I have nothing better to do all day since I haven't got a job and I don't want to laze around all day!!
So my plan is:
Everyday - run >6 km and hope to up it soon to match the cross country team who runs like 8-10 km every two days or so 0.0
Monday - go for frisbee training at acsi
Tuesday - go for swimming in the morning and then frisbee training at ACJC
Wednesday - go for frisbee training at NUS
Thursday - go for frisbee training somewhere
Friday - go for exercise routine at nearby park
Saturday - go for shiong frisbee training with Muddy Grass at NUS
Sunday - same as Friday
I plan to go from looking like this now (all obese as you can see):
To like this before enlisting:
To like this after Basic Military Training:
And then like this by the end of Army:
RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAWRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hahaha just without the caption!!
Kidding la, I don't plan on becoming a buff nut like Jerome, just a sleek and fit guy (hopefully =/)
So anyways my com got fried while I was out jogging on Sunday, so I have to resort to using my dad's laptop for now, so can't really talk much or post as much as I want to.
Hopefully it'll be repaired soon and I can update u on my AFATMAN programme =)
I survived week one by the way, just another few left to go!!
Oh pray it doesnt rain so much if not I cannot maintain my nice tan and AFATMAN!!!
Till next time xD
Cheers~~!!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
all things new
I look like an overburnt lobster.
Okay maybe there isn't such a thing, but probably if you bunsen burner a lobster long enough, the thing starts becoming chao ta, yet you can still see the red glowing beneath. That's how I currently look.
Why?
Cos I just had four days of water-splashing, sun-tanning, mud-bathing, starch-smearing and loud-cheering under the sun at the ACJC Orientation 08.
I must say it was incredible, I didn't expect myself to have so much fun~!!
On the first day I wore my barker uniform and crashed this OG called Shia (who rawks!), and I played along till we had to change out after lunch into PE attire.
As I walked out of the toilet wearing my yellow ACJC top my fellow og member asked me:
"EH! How come you got the ACJC shirt so fast?!?!?!"
hehheh..
looks like I managed to fool em'.
Though after that they pretty much viewed me as an old fogey, for lack of a nicer word. But I must say the added respect was kind of nice =D =D =D
So it was four great days of starching down and powering down and watering down eliza, getting a kick out of saying RRRRRRRAMANDEEP, fruit punch smearing yihui and drenching renzheng like 200 times. Not to mention how much I laughed when yihui chased seth like mad for the first crime he didn't commit in his life.
priceless.
all the fun, laughter and mud shared with the group and ogls was really worth the time and effort!!!!
to top it off, today tribe David went to fort canning park after church to play captains ball and frisbee. it was.. kinda fun cept for the part where our team kept losing captains ball cos yao ming was too tall and wensi couldnt stick to jia min at all *grr!*
oh and guess what??
My skin is getting burnt even after I just peeled the old layer off.
Okay okay i know it's quite disgusting but it's really itchy and I'm trying uber hard not to scratch alright?
Lol.
ZZZ I'm so tired.
Slept like an average of 5 and a half hours for the past 5 days, which is way below the 10 I require. I still have to go to school for the next 3 days at least to help out with KI and Choir among other things.
It's kinda nolstagic I must say, to cherish the school so much more when you have left it. To see your juniors taking over the reins to spread and fuel the AC spirit further, and to see new faces catch the fire.
It really puts a warm and fuzzy feeling in my heart.
And... it makes it all the more harder to let go off ACJC, the school I love and am so passionate about.
All the chapel worships and wednesday morning worships I led, all the choir performances and experiences which really grew me up and taught me how to be an effective leader, all the camaraderie my classmates and KI mates and everyone else shared...
I wouldnt have traded the past 2 years for anything else.
Nothing else would have come close to the indescribable experience I went through.
I do hope to go back and lead chapel sometime soon, hopefully they'll allow me too =)
So to all who come across this place, I hope your year will bu as fun-filled as mine is and will be, and don't forget to put sun-block if you gonna be under the sun~~~!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dinner + moisturizer time =D
Okay maybe there isn't such a thing, but probably if you bunsen burner a lobster long enough, the thing starts becoming chao ta, yet you can still see the red glowing beneath. That's how I currently look.
Why?
Cos I just had four days of water-splashing, sun-tanning, mud-bathing, starch-smearing and loud-cheering under the sun at the ACJC Orientation 08.
I must say it was incredible, I didn't expect myself to have so much fun~!!
On the first day I wore my barker uniform and crashed this OG called Shia (who rawks!), and I played along till we had to change out after lunch into PE attire.
As I walked out of the toilet wearing my yellow ACJC top my fellow og member asked me:
"EH! How come you got the ACJC shirt so fast?!?!?!"
hehheh..
looks like I managed to fool em'.
Though after that they pretty much viewed me as an old fogey, for lack of a nicer word. But I must say the added respect was kind of nice =D =D =D
So it was four great days of starching down and powering down and watering down eliza, getting a kick out of saying RRRRRRRAMANDEEP, fruit punch smearing yihui and drenching renzheng like 200 times. Not to mention how much I laughed when yihui chased seth like mad for the first crime he didn't commit in his life.
priceless.
all the fun, laughter and mud shared with the group and ogls was really worth the time and effort!!!!
to top it off, today tribe David went to fort canning park after church to play captains ball and frisbee. it was.. kinda fun cept for the part where our team kept losing captains ball cos yao ming was too tall and wensi couldnt stick to jia min at all *grr!*
oh and guess what??
My skin is getting burnt even after I just peeled the old layer off.
Okay okay i know it's quite disgusting but it's really itchy and I'm trying uber hard not to scratch alright?
Lol.
ZZZ I'm so tired.
Slept like an average of 5 and a half hours for the past 5 days, which is way below the 10 I require. I still have to go to school for the next 3 days at least to help out with KI and Choir among other things.
It's kinda nolstagic I must say, to cherish the school so much more when you have left it. To see your juniors taking over the reins to spread and fuel the AC spirit further, and to see new faces catch the fire.
It really puts a warm and fuzzy feeling in my heart.
And... it makes it all the more harder to let go off ACJC, the school I love and am so passionate about.
All the chapel worships and wednesday morning worships I led, all the choir performances and experiences which really grew me up and taught me how to be an effective leader, all the camaraderie my classmates and KI mates and everyone else shared...
I wouldnt have traded the past 2 years for anything else.
Nothing else would have come close to the indescribable experience I went through.
I do hope to go back and lead chapel sometime soon, hopefully they'll allow me too =)
So to all who come across this place, I hope your year will bu as fun-filled as mine is and will be, and don't forget to put sun-block if you gonna be under the sun~~~!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dinner + moisturizer time =D
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