GoAway.

:: PROFILE ::

debbeee
a woman of no importance
anti-socialite
lives on chips and teevee
lives by intuition
lives for God

schizophrenoid, almost

:: WISHLIST ::

My eden,
tucked away in a rear corner.

It exists.
Not a figment of my imagination.
Never can my meagre Mind configure such a beauty.

:: LOVES ::

chips
caps
ink, charcoal, acrylics and paper

red and purple makes my day.

:: HATES ::

The deceitfulness of the human heart,
present company not excluded.

Saturday, April 30

It's been awhile.

Being ill frees me from the usual day-to-day programmes and confines me to bed and books.
I've been reading Sophie's World again, and digesting it for real this time.
It gave my mind quite an indigestion, I must say.

A make-believe world - a vortex - yes, it had me spellbound.
It became a tri-reality with Sophie's, Hilde's and mine.
And that's excluding the Magician's world which I cannot fathom.

I took a break from books with tiny print and returned to my teevee addiction.
Mediacorp snowballed their tendency for lovey-dovey.
And I like that!

Let's see, out of so many foreign love dramas I've watched, these are my favourites:

1. Love Revolution
2. Golden Bowl
3. Long Vacation
4. Power Office Ladies
5. Antique
6. Food Fight
7. Success Story of a Bright Girl
8. My Love Patji
9. Autumn Fairytale

and of course

10. All About Eve (the cream of the crop)

Top ten.
Beautiful shows, these are.
Notice they are all Japanese and Korean dramas.
Taiwanese shows are rarely nice, except for Meteor Garden which is theoretically a Japanese script.

I needed teevee therapy to soothe my fretting nerves.
The prospects of days without Nurul, Noor, Lynn or Megan was horrifying.
It is still very much a dread.

Now I need to return to more drama serials.
I ommitted Heaven's Coin ~ Die Sterntaler because this show is incomparable.

Awesome.

And I need to get back to yucky medicine and how one can make the most out of singleness.

d e b b e e e kvetched at 4:47 PM

Saturday, April 23

This is what I do when I am mindless holidays - bloghop and do the quizzes I see posted. This one was from Emily's. Pretty fun, I must say.

Your dating personality profile:

Traditional - Modern culture does not move you. You hold traditional values dear to your heart.

Religious - Faith matters to you. It is the foundation that you build your life upon. You trust that God has a plan for you.

Intellectual - You consider your mind amongst your assets. Learning is not a chore but a constant search after wisdom and knowledge. You value education and rationality.

Your date match
profile:

Traditional - You aren't looking for someone who is sexually repressed. You want someone who is adventurous under the covers.

Shy - You are put off by people who are open books. You are drawn to someone who is a bit more mysterious. You want to draw him out of his shell and get to know what he is all about.

Religious - You seek someone who is grounded in faith and who possesses religious values. You believe that a religious person can enhance your life.

Your Top Ten Traits

1. Traditional
2. Religious
3. Intellectual
4. Liberal
5. Romantic
6. Big-Hearted
7. Athletic
8. Funny
9. Stylish
10. Wealthy/Ambitious

Your Top Ten Match Traits

1. Traditional
2. Shy
3. Religious
4. Conservative
5. Intellectual
6. Romantic
7. Funny
8. Athletic
9. Wealthy/Ambitious
10. Big-Hearted

Take the Online Dating Personality Quiz at Dating Diversions

d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:59 AM

Thursday, April 21

Extraordinary effect that pending secret had on me.
Impeccable impact its revealing held, dangling over me.

I cannot decide whether to crumble in relief or in tears. The scramble of intangible letters sprawled across the vertical pithole that threatens to suck me into a vertigo of no end. Staring at the letters for so long, I cannot deny the progress since prior. The only bitterness drew from a pent-up reservoir of unwarranted expectations and desires, breaking the dam and rushing past the barrage to drown.

To drown.

Thankfully, awry circumstance pass and such emotions are fleeting.
Dawning upon me, the beauty of it all.

The faithfulness and grace of God.

I placed too much emphasis on the wrong things.
The focus due Him was stolen away.
I hoped for the unduly; it was hope misplaced.
Yet He allowed U-turns in all mercy and tender, loving care.

Every new day
Your glory unfolds
Filling my eyes
With Your treasures untold

And so it is.

I can still proudly say I got arguably good results.
3.6042 for GPA.
But it's all about Jesus.

d e b b e e e kvetched at 9:26 AM

Thursday, April 14

If I gave you everything you asked for,
where would you put it?

God .

The overwhelming human interest in more of God's blessing is innate.
It didn't take Einstein to figure out why we, humans, are such epitomes of selfish desires.

We are never contented for long; that is if we ever were at all.
Satisfaction is always thwarted by our vivacious imagination; the bubbling spring of what ifs.

"What if... God gave me a billion bucks?"
(i can use the money for my church!)

"What if... I am the world's most sucessful politician?"
(i can lead whole nations to Christ and advocate world peace!)

"What if... my vocals were to be the most magnificent ever heard?"
(i can use beautiful songs to spread His gospel!)

The kind of creativity the Mind is capable of.
It all sounds so absurd, these out-of-the-world what ifs.
But we always manage to seemingly justify our own selfish desires.

See, like a very young girl who is a right brat - always whining for more toys.

"Oh, I want that barbie doll!"

She gets it, for her father doted on her.
She plays with the doll for awhile and realised she wanted more than this.
Getting dissatisfied, she yells,
"I don't care,
I want a television set for myself. NOW!"

Her father prompts her,
"Why do you need a television set?
You are only five years old."

She wails,
"I want one, I want one! So that I can tell my
friends how much you love me, Papa!"

He knew he did love her so; he doesn't want to let her down - she got her television set.
She watched the television all day long, an addiction incurable.
She spent less time with her father, but he still loved her.
One day, she saw an advertisement for a pretty convertible.
Her heart ached with longing and she decided she had to have it.

"Oh Papa, Papa! I want a car - a sports car!"

Her father was mildly surprised.
"Why do you need a car? You are only five, ages away from the time to drive!"

She was adamant about her desire, so she exclaimed,
"So I will have more time to familiarise myself with the car and then I can finally drive you around when I am eighteen, Papa! Then I will be so happy and all my friends will know you as the Ideal Father!"

Her father knew this was too much, but accedes to her request out of sheer love.
She got the car, forgot that she promised her father she will only drive at eighteen and charged onto the road.

What happens when you put a five year old with legs too short for the brakes in a car?

We know the verse by heart - "Ask and you shall receive..."
This is when we get carried away, thinking that God is no more than a genie in a bottle; someone who grants our utmost desires.

But we forget to acknowledge that faith has a very big role in prayers.
And this faith is the by-product of an intimate relationship with God.

This is when we lose focus of Him; when we think too much about ourselves and demand that He, the centre of the universe, give us His attention; when discontentment allies with pride and obscures our view of His love.

If God gave us everything we wanted, do we have the capacity to keep them?
God's infinity cannot be contained or measured in our finite world.
Do we have place in our lives to receive and use these blessings wisely?
If God gave us everything we wanted, do we know where to put them?
Temptation will hound us day and night and lead your soul astray.
Can we guarantee we know where to invest these extra talents in?
Stick by our promiseto Him?

He can give us anything, everything!
He is willing to, but are we able to handle so much?
Do we truly think we need that much to survive?
Can we keep our focus when there's a whole load of cash waiting for you?
Will temptation not threaten to swallow you up in one yummy gulp?

Thank goodness, our Heavenly Father is much wiser than the young girl's Papa.
God knows us best.
How much we need to be healthy; how much will result in an overdose.

Don't fret.
Learn to be content, not to contend.

I am learning, too.
We all learn on the job, and our jobs are to be good children of The Almighty.

d e b b e e e kvetched at 5:05 PM

Saturday, April 9

Back from another awakening - Triumvirate Outing (capitalised and bolden to signify its importance).
I have been very vague in my blog of late, or so they claim.
Confusion? Random ramblings? Their guesswork needs some improvement.

The two masalahs lah.

Well, what can I say in self defence?

I learnt fear.
I have allowed fear to reign this thought-haven and coat my words with wool.
That's why things always seem so woolly.

Ha, ha!
Alright, alright - enough of word puns.

See?
I learnt to let go and be more light-hearted here.
For the sake of my triumvirs, I can forgo everything else and dive into the river of madness with them.
For the sake of Lembek Jean and Mickey Esther, I'll throw all caution to the wind.

Prepare yourself for a fresh dose of Debbiean sarcasm,
dark humour and cutting comments.

So as usual, I was bullied by Lembek Jean into emotional blackmail (and physical) as she manipulated me by having me travel from Terminal 1 to 2 and back to 1 again (and somemore after that). It's pretty sad how I allow her to get such a hold on me. But then again, she's lembek so I ought to show her more sympathy.

Good'ol Mickey Esther stayed true to her word and gave us a treat. Not at Grand Hyatt like what Jean wanted, though. Back to our old haunt, Changi Airport. Alas, we didn't get to try The Soup Restaurant. I really like their Samsui Chicken, you see.

Another time, another time.
There's still the movie marathon!

Oh, and just bear in mind, my dear triumvirs, that I dislike answering phone calls or replying smses. To everyone else, as well.

I think I like teaching alot.
Way too much, in fact.
Perhaps even more than writing for journalism.

Now, now.
That will be some kind of bad news for me.

Okay, to rewind things a l'il, I have been doing relief teaching in Anglican High School. Enjoying myself thoroughly, doing English Literature with the Sec Ones. It helped that they were doing poetry now. And I am not too bad at Practical Criticism myself, after all.

Maybe I will fulfill my childhood dreams of being a teacher.
Yes, yes - I did want to be a teacher badly many years ago, and the feeling's returning now.
but things will have to wait for another 2 years and any feelings will probably be worn out by then.

We shall see.

I don't know what it means to be frank any longer.
The distinction between being brutally blunt and truly honest is no more.
They say great people are often misunderstood.
In that case, I doubt I want to be great in any way after all.

I know what they mean when they say I evolved, devolved or mutated.
In Sixpence None The Richer's words,

"So I'm changing who I am
'cause what I am's not good.
And I know you love me now
but I don't see why you should."

- I've Been Waiting, Sixpence

I lost quite a bit of myself over the past year.

Not that I've been good to begin with, but somehow I even lost that little I had.

I feel thoroughly rotten because I know despite my being as such, there are people who still love me. There's my family, my true friends and best of all, God. I always say expectations kill the soul and these people love me without imposing expectations on me. Sometimes, it seems that they want me to do certain things and do it their way, but I realised there is only a thin line between expectation and hope. And the latter is always what saves the soul.

d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:33 PM

Monday, April 4

Kiss the frog, kiss the prince.
The prince may turn out to a frog again, who knows?

I'm really addicted to Pucca and her various antics.
How bold can that girl be!

In a roundabout way, I recognise my own timidity.
Why, I don't even dare to watch The Way Home !

I fear for my conscience.
I fear the overwhelming revelations that may weigh down upon my bloody conscience.

It was all cold and rainy today.
Not that I had any cause to complain, seeing that I adore such weathers.
I made my way home from the library, under an umbrella and thoroughly enjoying the dreary skies.
Then I had great books for company in the evening.

O how lovely.

The flowers on the dining table are withering.
In a very graceful manner, though.
So beautiful yet so melancholic.

I have a new notebook!
A big, scented, beautiful notebook!

I get awfully excited when I have new notebooks.
Especially when it's a gift.
Even more so when it's a gift from my brother. "

I must have had at least thirty notebooks thus far in my life now.
They are seldom filled up to the last page, because I don't bear to finish them up.
It's a queer notion, yes.

My most treasured notebooks of them all will be those I kept during secondary school years.
Not for academic purposes, mind you.
They were my faithful company for services and oikos.

I spent many an awesome service scribbling the newly gained insights with much fervour.
Then the Fridays came and the notebooks followed me to 10 Aida Street.
Those were the times.

The times when I devoured each opportunity to learn with relish.
The times when I pored over the notes again and again and again.
The times when I spent sleepless nights wondering about Heaven.
The times when I prayed that God will use me someday.

And when I flip through these notebooks once more,
I realised how faithful God has been.
These are beautiful memories strewn atop the ragged pages.
Even more beautiful than that imprinted in my meagre mind.

I have recently taken to scrawling stray thoughts for further meditation.
'Tis a brilliant way to not let Him pass me by.

Won't you allow some paper and ink to nab the fleeting moments of His magic in your life?

I look back in the past with two whole sacks full of regrets.
Not even just the distant past, three hours back is bad enough.

I can be such a wretch.
I am continually amazed by why He was willing to die for me.

It didn't come cheap, but I got it for free.

Regrets constitute such a heavy price tag for mistakes.
I never want to do it again, but words are really cheap.

I don't mean to be as anti-social as I seem to be.
It's just as how Desperate Housewives aptly puts it:

Trust, once earned, puts one at ease.
And trust, once betrayed, is almost impossible to salvage.

Sometimes, we withhold or doubt trust so as not to get burnt.

Is that right?
What if I had been wrong?

I get paranoid over human relations.
I get even more so when it's about true friends.
And the worst is yet to come for I don't even want to think about my ribcage.

I started by writing about frogs.
I end by writing about frogs.

I can hardly trust my so-called instincts.
Especially on issues like differentiating between frogs and princes.
Well, you never know which is which.
After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
That slimy frog could be a prince - just the right one at the wrong time.

And the right one at the wrong time is still wrong.

(Sometimes, I get freaked out when I considered the prospects of God pulling off a real big one in my life, whispering in my ear that a supposedly slimy frog is in fact, my prince and my rightful ribcage.

He always gets the last laugh, you know.)

d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:41 PM

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Yesterday, Once More
the expired debbeee
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