horizontally awake.

Do any human beings ever realise life while they live it?--every, every minute?

-kurt vonnegut, timequake.

i felt like i was dying, that day in taka. twenty minutes of wretchedness, in that toilet cubicle. once in a while my body purges, it revolts against the food i consume, against my late nights, the stress, the processed foods, against me.
it wipes itself clean from the inside, so i puke, have diarrhoea, and everything churns.
the queue was soo long, in the toilet. i was keeling over, pale, faint, cringing with pain, and i had to ask them to let me go first, those gaping women. as soon as i stepped into the cubicle, i vomited three times.
and i sat there for twenty minutes, recovering, or gathering strength to go out there and be un-ugly - when you are sick and you have to face the world its almost impossible- and then..
there was the cab queue! like 26 cabs to wait for. i was pale, white, like a sheet. like my cement walls, only frailer.
i finally fell into the cab and he asked me, 'why you so tired?'
appreciative, i told him i vomitted n he offered me Fishermen's Friend. hah. nice soul. i shld vote him for Mr Taxi Driver of the Year Award. although i didnt take the sweet. [i was not bribed!]

so whenever i dont go to church, n the reason is 'diarrhoea', its one of those purges. i dont normally talk about it. i wonder if im healthy, if there's anything wrong with me. hah. but during hockey i was still one of e fittest in the team, i cant be sick right? well, i must resolve, nonetheless.
1. avoid oily, processed foods like the plague.
2. drink water like im breathing air. and fruits like im drinking water.

*i wonder how it feels like to give birth? does it feel like dying a death too?
*im gonna paint a wall in stripes. these are the colours i bought:
blatedpink[but pinkier than this]andceleryleaf[more lime greeney] aint it cool! matching photoframes!

blemished hopes

grimey. why is christmas like that?


my wishlist.
i want to work at Parliament House.
ura scholarship.
true friends.
to love jesus.
to have hope.
to be closer to family.
to be able to speak.
to be confident.
to breathe art.
to redecorate my room.
to go to the art store at taka
to go to the library and find my books.
to cook a nice meal.


current read:
till we have faces. cs lewis. absorbing lore, exposes the complexities of facing truth.

ponder:
what is friendship besides a coincidence of interest? she has been all day a bearer of bad news, so independent, so unbothered.

----

merry christmas! happiness is what u make of what u have.

i choose joy.

today we made gingerbread men. and women. so many of them i can give, give, give.

random thoughts. erica and sarah siew rock. love them.

raining egyptian kboxes

i convulse whenever i see newspapers, and i wonder which magazines are under SPH.. the interview went really badly, it made me so disillusioned with working life. people can be cruel. really. maybe, shockhorror, i just cant deal with failure. haha.

now the happy (: stuff. !!! today we celebrated ahheng and edlyn's bday! packed them up with giraffe snouts blindfolded, into a cab and away!! to cherie's house. then we played treasure hunt and charades with uber random topics like: egyptians singing karaoke, goldilocks jumps off the seventh floor, statue of liberty dancing.
haha crazy insane fun. which everyone else will think is stupid but ah, thats the point!

yesterday as royston n i were walking back to church it started SUDDENLY, to pour. water. rain. yes. so suddenly! like instant noodle! haha. a bad day to wear white i was soaked through but i dont know why i just kept on laughing and beng picked us up and i was still laughing i think its because i found it so drama, like in shows when the rain comes down too sudden and unexpected it just seems fake. haha. its quite fun, being rained upon. now i know why they devised the rain dance.

"making a wish is just

spending a quiet moment

before the candles are blown out

on the birthday cake."

life is difficult.

it has been such a long day. i am worn down, worn out, spread thin. i am so exhausted.
who says the day after exams is a good day, huh?
quarreled with mum today. the inevitable split. i knew it had to come. and having come, i dont doubt there's gonna be a second tear, sometime. i gouging into raw flesh, an incision into a searing scar. but not anytime soon please, i have no strength.

then i missed the berkeley app deadline. and there're mistakes in it. and it cost 70$US. so i really pray they will be lenient and let me in, i so do not want to waste dad's money. you know, they say we shouldnt be materialistic right? but i find now that i want to make money. its not consuming me, but its not true that money doesnt matter, ok? i need to pay my parents back. i'll be blowing some like 1000 THIS DECEMBER ALONE. i need to pay dad back. urgh. i am so tired. God seems so far away, out of reach.

and the worst thing is, a leader has got to have God in sight, all the time. i am so weak. please God, show yourself through my weakness. i'm leading worship for junior camp some morning. i need to choose appropriate songs, i need to flow in the Spirit, i need you God. now more than ever.

a vanquished, nerve wrecked, soul.

i have nobody to watch harry potter with, and no time to watch it with anybody.
what's keeping me from collapsing? i really dont know. i have no time for myself. it's dad's bday this saturday. i havent touched SATs preparation. i am so tired, tired, tired. of life, of everything. so much for stability, for rockhard solidness. there can be no rock hard stability with no rock hard certainties, can there? yeah sure, God is diamond hard, flint hard. Let me feel your absoluteness God, let me perceive it, let me live it.

life is difficult.

it has been such a long day. i am worn down, worn out, spread thin. i am so exhausted.
who says the day after exams is a good day, huh?
quarreled with mum today. the inevitable split. i knew it had to come. and having come, i dont doubt there's gonna be a second tear, sometime. i gouging into raw flesh, an incision into a searing scar. but not anytime soon please, i have no strength.

then i missed the berkeley app deadline. and there're mistakes in it. and it cost 70$US. so i really pray they will be lenient and let me in, i so do not want to waste dad's money. you know, they say we shouldnt be materialistic right? but i find now that i want to make money. its not consuming me, but its not true that money doesnt matter, ok? i need to pay my parents back. i'll be blowing some like 1000 THIS DECEMBER ALONE. i need to pay dad back. urgh. i am so tired. God seems so far away, out of reach.

and the worst thing is, a leader has got to have God in sight, all the time. i am so weak. please God, show yourself through my weakness. i'm leading worship for junior camp some morning. i need to choose appropriate songs, i need to flow in the Spirit, i need you God. now more than ever.

a vanquished, nerve wrecked, soul.

i have nobody to watch harry potter with, and no time to watch it with anybody.
what's keeping me from collapsing? i really dont know. i have no time for myself. it's dad's bday this saturday. i havent touched SATs preparation. i am so tired, tired, tired. of life, of everything. so much for stability, for rockhard solidness. there can be no rock hard stability with no rock hard certainties, can there? yeah sure, God is diamond hard, flint hard. Let me feel your absoluteness God, let me perceive it, let me live it.

those wandlike words

"we live, as we dream, alone.."

Conrad is a superb writer. he speaks of the power of Kurtz' unbounded eloquence, but he too is guilty of such a lovely manipulative tool, you gasp under the sheer weight and colossal immensity of his words..

hmm. picked up this book called The Hour that Changes the World. its good stuff. yeah its true that some books are 'anointed'. i picture the writer being really sensitive, intimately aware, acutely agile to the Holy Spirit's voice. how is it that everytime i randomly open up 'Our Journey' the title speaks directly into my situation? especially James MacDonald's entries, whoever he is. maybe he really seeks God, no matter, he always blesses me with his writing.

Rahim B Sulaiman! you are my pick for Most Courteous Taxi Driver Award. hahaha.
1. neat starched shirt and collar and clean appearance
2. you start the journey with a cheery 'good morning!'
3. your taxi smells nice. no smell of suffocating perfume, no groggy medicated oil...
4. your cab sounds peaceful. no jarring chinese pop tunes or 4D readouts or boppy dance remixes..
5. you end the journey with 'have a good day!'

mm. :) i think singapore's campaigns are hilarious. anyone seen the latest TeamSingapore song? hahaa typically the lyrics in the songs go along the lines of victory, unity, harmony.. reach up to the clouds.. blah dee blah.

uniquely singapore, eh?

heh here's another poem just for you. -sheepish giggle-

sunny island in the sea

small but enough space for you and me

babies grow grow grow we must

else the economy will go bust

we'll make space upwards

if not sidewards

hdb can do it very fast.

we have space in the pews

if not in the news

for wayward non-whites to repent,

else lightning and ashes

and twentyfour lashes

should make you quite

The Quiet Singaporean

who does all things right

all rebellion unlearn

as purified, newatered men.

thank you thank YOU thank you.

come on now, let's do the countdown! :) :) there's three of it, it lasts a total of 9 hours, it is my pet subject lit, it is my last wave to freedom!!
hee. the a levels are really stretching. i'm spread thin over the surface of my mountaineous notes. like how britain was spread thin and pink over the global empire. haha. i realise that studying is very unhealthy for me. i stop exercising, and i like to isolate myself so i can concentrate. that means that i dont sms much, i dont move much, i dont eat much... i dont LIVE much. i dont love much. i dont... i aint happy.

wait! i must tell you how wonderful GOD is. Today's history paper, well it came after tuesday and wednesday's economics paper, and i did not touch history since prelims.! i am not exaggerating in the least. even for prelims my knowledge for international history was sketchy cos i always think european history's more interesting :p yes, so today was supposed to be payback day. i spent last night nodding over my notes and fell asleep. having glanced through only 1. ECOSOC notes on the bus [which amounts to 1/4 of 1/5 of international history, which is 1/2 of total history.] 2. 3/4 of Korean War [which is half of one fifth of what i had to do..] so you can imagine how bad things were.
FELL ASLEEP! that is the most disastrous thing that can happen to you when youre pressed for time. so i slept, woke up intermittently at 3+, 5am and 6am, dreamt of alligator like monsters and fat shirtless men monsters and my knife-hacking attempts to shut the door on them and keep them from bursting through the doors. no kidding.
i rushed off to school and started uh studying. and then, PEOPLE came. that's like altogether a different type of monster, the DUMPYOURSTUDIESYOU'RE GONNA DIE monster. monster that talks too much while you're panicking, talks too much negative stuff like [you havent studied? you're dead la.] worries too much [skarli this specific question come out for origins of Cold War, then we GG la. you know what to say meh?] ...grr.
so i typically, isolated myself on the fourth floor. haha. until another classmate kept popping in and out of the room asking if i practised essays, if i know how to answer Nuclear Race essays, if i wanted to do essay outlines with him....
i tell you, when you deliberately want to isolate yourself and cram into your brain 2 years worth of syllabus in 1.5 hours, you really wont appreciate company. so i quite [un?]courteously asked him to leave me alone i was dying.
-
you know what? i managed to squeeze two years worth of syllabus down my throat and do a decent paper. really really thank God. i definitely know that without his help, i wouldnt have passed the paper decently. for example, originally i wanted to do Crisis of Communism, but suddenly last night i decided i'll do nuclear arms instead. and i made the right spot, cos this year's crisis question was the same topic as last years- the one that everyone skipped while they were studying. so if i chose to study Crisis, i would have been majorly screwd. does any of this make sense to you? would it if i said for international history alone the lecture notes [excluding readings] measure up from my elbow to the tip of my fingers?
-
now all that can go into the witch campfire for all i care. so if somebody wishes to rescue history, econs, math?!, lit notes from the fire, please just take it all.

be glorified through my weakness.

for what its worth.

aggravating!! this is the second time im typing this! darn blogger picture upload.

as i was saying, its friday. its the end of the week! hullaballoo. yes anyhow, exams in a sense are a blessing. i just need to say thank you jesus. really. cambridge's gone nuts, all the papers are much harder than previous years [they say this every year i know but this time, its TRUE.] but God has pulled me through one week of it and im quite sure the rest of the weeks will be fine.
*
yes, and i also said- everything repeated a second time loses its freshness and taste. if this one doesnt get published i'll just heck it and go do something else other than typey typey.

AHH! do u see the picture? Blogger picture works! only if you upload the picture from your computer instead of from the web.

*

check out Mr Leong Chee Tung, ex-rjc's comment on the press freedom index in Singapore. he has gone where many have not dared to, andhis comments are commendable as well as sensible.

this is one reply to his provocative letter to the ST.

"...An irresponsible free press can spark chaos, violence and conflicts, leading to untold miseries for the people. This kind of freedom is too high a price to pay for developing countries. We certainly do not want this.
I would rather live in Singapore, ranked 140th in RWB's international ranking of press freedom, than in a country which ranked 125th but is devastated by internal wars, riven by factional divisions and plagued by foreign intervention."
-Paul Chan Poh Hoi

here are my takeaways, emphasised in red.

singapore is largely a developed country. we are young, but level of development is linked to economic standards and education levels, to a larger extent than it is to numerical age. if we claim we are still not ready to adjust and form sensible judgements through filtering information we receive from the press, when will we ever be ready? is this a specific number you can pinpoint? the answer is, that we are ready whenever society determines we are ready- it is an approximation derived through experience and experimentation, not a figure thrust top-down.

a free press does not necessitate an irresponsible press. there is a distinct line between being destructive and responsive. a free press is one that has the freedom to respond and evaluate government policies- both its good and bad, which itself reflects participation in nation's politics. on one hand, political participation and awareness is advocated, yet on another the freedom to do so is restricted. this is a fundamental imbalance, and is no way to proceed toward greater political sensitivity and engagement.

'i would rather live in singapore'... it is true that singapore has had a remarkable economic record. what we need to understand though, is that a sound economy need not be mutually exclusive to a free press. there is no mandatory 'we would rathers' about it. it is possible to have the best of both worlds, in regions like australia and america. it is rather infantile, if not paranoid, to associate a free press with violence and social anarchy. a free press need not be divisive. it is simply interactive.

infinite apologies to you, you and you!

In lieu of the harsh security safeguards and crawly eyes over this blog, all that is safe to say is Hi and Bye. Oh, and i suppose you can talk about Love and Flowers and Barney and the Beauty of Bamboos and real inspirational stuff like that. But Definitely NO to:

1. toothbrushes [potential weapon, discrimination against anti-hygienists]
2. angels [ what about those who cant and dont make up their minds about heaven?]
3. bombs [you might be a potential terrorist.]
4. handicap toilets [you inconsiderate insensitive megalomaniac.]
5. skipping ropes [don't you know jumping is Banned nowsadays ever since windows were created? and ROPES rope! how DARE you! dont you know that ropes used in conjunction with ceilings become highly dangerous lethal menaces??]
6. the colour white. or yellow. or black. or peach. [youunbelievableRacist!]

7. exam countdowns. [this one is a personal request. you are increasing stress levels in an already stressed singapore- we already have clocks for that, thankyouverymuch.]

Right now i'd like to apologise to all those who dislike math and numbered lists, as well as to those from the Big Big Brother who have to bear such a heavy burden Watching Us [no harm done here i hope], as well as those who do not like reading English but are currently doing so, and also to those Do-Gooders-Eco-Warriers who believe that laptop energy emissions are doing our universe a great deal of harm, as well as to my parents for typing on a computer while they are asleep and thus unable to supervise, and to those people who expected to find something here which they did not, and especially to History9067/3 for spending time typing this instead of focusing on you.

-

And i'd just like to say, just what Mr. Goh Chok Tong has himself said,

that what Mr Lee Kuan Yew said in 1959 still holds today-

"You are not going to teach us how we should run this country. We are not so stupid. We know what our interests are and we try to preserve them."

because, you see, if you say what someone else has said before, you are at most a shadow [even not an entirely original one] and so when the BigBrothers come running, you can just melt into the pavement and get trodden past unhurt.

-

Moral of the Day [a variant of what Russell Peters has said before]:

Be a Shadow! Do the the Right Thing.

love love love

Sonnet CXVI- William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

i am afraid, this is the rare occasion in which you may be half-wrong Shakespeare. Only God-love is an absolute, an ever-fixed mark. as you say. And God's love, if one has not experienced it fully, comprehended completely, exists only consciously in one's imagination as an ideal perfection. Of course, God-lovers would see him everywhere- in the florid movements of nature and the peanut butter sandwich breakfast.

But most other forms of love, natural loves- expand their definitions with experience. i may think i love a man, but when i come to know him, and acquaint myself with his flaws, my love for him would take on a different facet- the love would change, be tainted in some way, may fade in others, and yet may also strengthen in a subtler way if i reconcile myself to imperfection. Love is an expandable balloon- just as fragile, as malleable, as absorbent.

"Love? What is love? There is no such thing. There are only loves and their differences."

vulgar distress

i have resolved to keep my worlds separate. i believe i have never felt so alone. this whole week has just been shaky, rocky for me. why do i have this lingering notion that after a high, there's gonna be a drop, gotta be one. cos its been proven true time and time again. i was so happy with woh woh.. and that whole lot. and i go back to school, to study.. and face my sometimes superficial friends. arhg. i dont wanna be unkind, or ungrateful, ok? they are nice people. they.. are fun to hang out with. maybe im being sensitive or something- the three of us are the closer ones in class, and everyone knows that three's a crowd. It is. the thing is, i dont feel comfortable around them, im not free to be myself. im just different i guess. sometimes i wish i could have started all over, with a different clique at the start of the year, a different image, a different sense of humour, a different life, maybe. its real childish, and im partly ashamed to confess it. but its natural isnt it? to feel like u dont fit in, dont gel- with the crew. just a tag along. just dispensable, like i told cherie. and what they do dont help much.

like yesterday- we were studying at the tables outside class, and they just left separately to the classroom to eat or talk or study or whatever. and so i was left sitting there with mun- who was with her 'partner'- and i found myself, once again, in the awkward company of three. then She came out after a long while to take some stuff- said laughingly- we were saying 'we always leave feli around- either behind, or outside. hah. ' then she said in passing- we're in [class]13A.
whoa, thanks man! i really appreciate it. its a whole joke right? part of me screams in frustration, flounders in rejection, and another part chides i dont have to take them seriously- i dont need friends like that. and they have no idea how hurt, how angered, i am by what they carelessly say and do. i just contacted cherie and fiona and went to join them. and i didnt bother saying bye to them in 13A. enough is enough. today, she handed me the Peer Evaluation forms for university reference. im supposed to get two friends to fill it up for me. she said 'get two people to fill this up for you, if you have any friends.'

why is this bothering me now?? come on, right? its like a primary school thing. i should be open-minded, independent and all that jazz. but dont be daft, alright? we all need people. i havent got the people, no- ive got the wrong people. i need real, trustable, dependable, soulmates. i have decided to keep away from them as much as possible the rest of this year- the distance helps me keep things in perspective, helps me steer clear of the knife's edge.

god i hate them.

and i dont need sympathy. despite what i say i know i cant keep my distance for too long without going soft and relenting. without opening myself to their company again. i dread that coming. comments like 'oh no, so poor thing' or 'aiyah they dont mean it' or 'dont be so sensitive' dont help, ok? they are meaningless to me, they simplify things to the point of obscuring life's complexity- some of life's greatest problems are those encountered as children i believe.

like 1. sharing things 2. choosing friends 3. respecting authority 4. jealousy

the children bring out what we stifle, in tear-drained pillows, into the sweeping open.

my world shall be separate. the person my schoolmates know, the person my family knows, the person my churchmates know [that is closest to the person i know] - they are all different. and intruding on any of those worlds, any overlap, causes misery and confusion.

i am alone, i am looking for God, i am in vulgar distress- only for a moment.

goodness.

griipes. just been to www.mda.gov.sg to check out their FirstTimeWriters initiative. Thought it would be real fun being a children's book writer. of course along with the fun its a lot of work, but work i cant imagine myself not enjoying. [right now i have a silent pregnant fear that some internet spy will pick up on the 'mda' keyword and thus i have to mince my words.] plausible? maybe not. possible? definitely. if im speaking to a blogger- wont you be disgusted to wake up and find your blog inerts splashed out on TheStraitsTimes? its a good paper really [not to mention the only.. well sort of. -the evasive syndrome kicks in again.] but i'd like to be selective about my audience actually. you may think its impossible, since anyone can just Google and locate you. but that group of 'anyone' would be really small unless you're some.. superstar. For now im content disclosing this address to anyone i am happy with and just pretending that it doesn't - i mean neglecting that it does- exist with those im not close to! is that wrong?

and id really like to write a children's book.
but the fresh untainted enthusiasm just dies a little with each application guideline i read.

Mr P. told us that the reason we love movies so much is that we yearn to be other than we are. to experience other than this. and in some sense i agree with him. some movies are better for imagining with than others. i'd love to dwell in the Elizabethan era for a while, or observe in the moulin rouge atmosphere, or study in a castle. And while i am imagining, the critical part of me, the part that stutters to be heard, yet is viciously silenced- logic- is swept under the carpet.

i am happy for now. happiness arrives in spurts. and that's what's good and spontaneous about it. if it were constant, i would go mad, i think. it would be like a pond- pretty, but also stagnant- mossy, algae-strewn, musky. i would rather an unpredictable brook- they always say that brooks bubble- doesnt the very nature of bubbles tell you that its whole and shiny for one full moment, but it will burst, it cant do anything but burst, in the next?

But Joy. Joy is something solid, like a prism underground. it is connected with Hope. The demise of hope cuts off all links to joy. Joy runs on, even if its surface is scratched or covered by dust- it is a sustained hope that the jewel's gleam will one day emerge, the dirt will one day be rubbed off, someone will walk pass and pick it up, handle it, and know it is of worth. Ah, joy is knowledge that you are of deeper worth. Is that true? Whether that worth comes to you in the form of God, or of confidence, or tenacity- of course everything else pales in the light of God-given meaning.

Task this week:
1. Say things are good when they are.

whenever i ask my brother if something i made is nice- he'd go..'ok, But..' and sometimes im like that too, always OKBut-ing. always too quick to criticise rather than appreciate. Maybe it runs in our Singaporean culture. Do we say the Merlion is good? There's always something fundamentally unbalanced, awkward about it. But its embedded somewhere in our consciousness as part of Singapore i suppose, so in that sense, it is good. Funny that in Lit we do Critical Appreciation. i shall critically appreciate life now. would you, too?

mm. fountain pens are good. so is my mother. she is better than good, though worse than perfect. swimming pools are good. the Good Book.

God. is. Good. and better than perfect.

reshelling a nut.

yes, the very complex problem of putting a single whole nut back into its shells and desplit them. this problem just struck me as i was sitting in lit S lecture, watching [not listening, perse] to McConnell speaking. He has a funny sort of hairline, with the receding hairline somewhere behind a tuft of fringe, about the middle of his crown. and he has a shiny round head, that struck me as looking very much like a nut. why do people's heads look like nuts? is it a reflection of what is inside it?

i have SATs tomorrow. the above does not seem like a likely topic on the "Essay" section, so i shall quit it. after tomorrow, i can finally release Barron's Booknotes and fly, fly fly! ..right.

now lets try this:
Do you think manners are deteriorating in this day and age? Should this be a concern?

Manners and etiquette is a common theme among novels of the early twentieth century- where primness and sobriety were esteemed above wit or intelligence, especially in the case of women. Although some people see manners as an essential trait which is fundamentally lacking in modern times, I do not think that it is particularly necessary now. In the past, manners were deemed to be a reflection of one's culture and upbringing. That era of calculated and stringent ettiquette was often associated with the subservience of women toward men, servile obsequience of servants or lower classes toward elites, and intolerance toward social deviants such as homosexuals or the paralysed. To be a cultured and well-mannered woman was, in short, to be passively acquiescent while the men went about their daily work and social functions. Granted, there are always exceptions to a rule. George Eliot, a renowned novelist, is known to have illegitimately cohabited with her husband, recanted Christianity, and taken care of her husband's 'legitimate' children. But social deviants such as Eliot have faced much social criticism, and have suffered for it.

Modern society, while somewhat lacking in manners, has more than made up for it, i feel, through a greater degree of openness. Critics of the decline in ettiquette have purported that manners is necessary to improve the pleasantness of life. However, a higher level of tolerance which we now have toward former 'undesirables' has arguably made life richer and more enjoyable for many people, in a more substantial way, than manners has. for example, laws enacted to allow flat ownership and places in civil service for homosexuals has reduced the public glare on this group and allowed them to fit more snugly into the social fabric.

..blah. xx. i am tired. bed time. please let this topic come out. at least half of its done!

where are you?

Look Ma, fires, terrorists, mosquitoes!

went to jurong point library just now, in search of a SAT practice book. This darned book costs about $40 in popular, and considering i have only one week left before the test, its: Not Worth It. But, apparently its far from popular in our national libraries and so, i couldnt find one. So, there i was, in Boon Lay, waited half and hour for the library to open and it was a fruitless search. Not only fruitless, it was amusingly painful. one meets the weirdest of all people in the weirdest of places.

Disappointed with lack of fruit, i tried to reward myself, squeeze some good out of my trip to the library, so i took a look at the "Times UK University Guide 2005". And, i took a seat on a humble looking bench, beside an indian guy and in front of a chinese lady [who had a newspaper sprawled all over the leather couch. so i couldnt seat. upon reflection, im glad i couldnt.]
And Then, came the Fateful Sneeze.

uh huh, so this guy sneezed, big deal. i just kept on looking through the Guide, but the chinese lady in a buttoned gray dress and loosely bunned hair suddenly started up.
Conversation proceeds between man and woman, i was a silent observer, with occasional nods and smiles in an awkward -uh huh, but i dont know you- fashion. She was speaking so loudly, like a typical aunty in a wet market, and anyone who walked past us seemed to give me a startled and sympathetic look.

Woman: "Aiyoh. Better hope that guy just has normal flu and not bird flu! you know how bird flu spreads? its like that! through the flu you know! not through fever or anything. One person sneeze then all the germs are spreading through this place! [looks around]"
Indianman: "ah yeah, they should spray some medical spray like those in clinics. to kill the germs."
GrayWoman: "you know my house also! everytime a neighbour sneeze out of the window, i wake up and start using a cloth and fan and fan, so the germs wont come in. Go back to their house! All that virus! Until my husband asks me 'what are you doing in the middle of the night?' i can use the spray, but chemicals are bad for you. so all i can do is use some, uh, strength la! to block the viruses."
[stifled bemused chuckle]
Man: "nah, i dont think it works that way..."
Woman: "then somemore the cleaners used to come twice a week, because of high water bill they cut down! recently all the people with dengo, you know the mosquitoes come from where anot? the neighbour next door, keep potted plants! nothing wrong with that la, but they ah, keep a garden! plants all the way to the lift you know."
Man: "yeah, we pay the government maintenance bill, and they never uh fumigate- pay them for what!" [this otherwise reasonable man has gripes with the gov, like most taxi drivers.]
Woman: "yeah lah. somemore, my husband almost died know, thankfully i was at home! This burning smell came up, then at first i thought its incense, nevermind la. but then, i go check again, saw a lot of smoke coming up from downstairs you know! so i hurry up call the police! they called the fire man, then they said 'where where where?' and i quickly point at that unit [gestures] and they cut the lock and spray the extinguisher! i saw it myself you know.
"Those people from China, he say his teenage daughter forgot to switch off the gas. Like i believe! Very suspicious to me. i think they want to get insurance money right, pay pay pay then never get anything back, so they purposely make it look like accident.
"And you know tv mobile show they caught terrorists [?!] Not Muslim, but from China you know! Wah, i see already so scared. i told my husband, 'Terrorists living downstairs!' He say 'no lah, its an accident' How Can?? If primary school daughter say forget i believe la, but secondary school? You mean the school never teach them safety education is it!
"So, definitely they want the insurance money! But they never expect me so expert."
Man: "that's one possibility la. mm. so thankfully you have a sharp nose"
Woman: "Yeah, somemore they bought new leather sofa you know! Expensive new sofa, where they get the money? Must be insurance money la! Thankfully i at home, my husband almost burn to death you know!"

[she goes on to talk about fires]
"You know nowadays in the news, so many fires everywhere! [er, in indonesia maybe?] Got this family, want to go holiday, then the fire reach them, gone case. so instantly you know! their friend also cannot believe! He say, they want to holiday also cannot, so suddenly gone already! Like instant noodle so fast! [hahaha.] So i say, see anything quickly report! Don't give any 'chence'! My downstairs neighbour said, 'you report to police ah?'
"Yeah la, not me then who? [this sounds familiar...who stole the cookie] They so stupid, never report! Still say 'you call one ah, you call!' still try to put blame on me you know. i dont call, burn already who talk for me? right anot.

"Fires ah, will go upwards first then sideways [ah, so she's on expert on fires too.] go up chap see lao, chap gao lao (14th storey, 19th storey)..

[i glance sideways at the indian man, who nods knowingly then smuggles a lost expression to me. uh, i didnt interprete. some things are not worth the effort?]

Woman: "The world is going mad you know." [good news, we're part of it!]

Man: "Yeah, the whole world is becoming stressed out la."

Woman: "I'm feeling very strange you know. I feel weird!" [would confirming your suspicions bring reassurance? ;) ]

[man gets a timely phone call, and we are delivered into a blessed silence. i have a flu, but the woman's paranoia really stopped me from sniffing even a bit. i had a solemn fear that she would pounce on me with disinfectant sprays and violent cloth-flagging to keep the germs with me. or she would conclude that that Fateful Sneeze had taken its toll on me. instant like noodle! haha. ]

--*--

Speaking of mosquitoes, this morning as dad drove me to Boon Lay, we saw some aged (50-60 years) cyclists wearing Team Singapore shirts. Dad remarked 'that's the mosquito squadron.'

i would have laughed if it was a joke. Problem is, he was probably serious. They were the Elderly Olympian Cycling Committee, more like. What a funny day.

i've got a fever. cripes.

-

red as a turkey. so much for a tan. hee. ice skating tmr... ah the life. ! but too much of a good thing negates it. so im quite glad ive only one week of it; this wake up late and waste time lifestyle is beginning to pall. wonder how taitais stand it.
*
who says entries have to be long? words are empty.

food fevening, fave a fice fay!

had prayer and praise ys on saturday, could tell the ministries put in a lot of work. it was good. except the screaming in the mike [hee. no offence intended mate]
*
went out with woh woh today for lunch at cartel (: so fun hanging out with them. gerry seemed a bit quiet. ah but she rocks. cant wait for church camp, dont know which to forgo.
*
jing and i intend to set up an accessories shop. zx is our first official customer. haha. asked us to make sth for his friend's bday. ehh..? it'll be an online shop, stuff like earrings, necklaces, rings, maybe bags later. cant wait for A levels to be over then we can move on to things that really matter.
*
i can make myself eat most stuff, even mushy tomatoes (with much difficulty) and slimy brinjals (drenched in sauce), but i draw the line at liver! eeurck. the grainy galling beads cleave to my pallate and make me feel like puking. i shall ask them to leave it out of my mee hoon kuay next time. and iv developed a distaste for minced pork. the kind with alot of chewy fat in it pluurrgh. why am i talking about food? maybe cos ive got a blocked nose now i cant taste anything. talking about it makes me feel better.
*
how come for me fun cant coexist with work? fun and fumes, and the like! which is why im always so unhappy during exams. hannah remarked on the last day of the exams, when it was all over finally! that ive not looked so happy in weeks. quite stunning to have someone tell u that. like a knock in the jaw that makes you stop and think. we are going ice skating this wed (: whoopeee. in line with the "fun and work dont mix" theory, i cant think of anything but play for the moment. ooh lovely days.
*
thingum to remember:

cherie, on alee: "she has no patience what, how to be nurse?"

pun on patients, get it? (:

foolufickityfickudums. feli.

woh 

catalogue of a week, with left out parts.

the prelims are over.! econs paper today was madness. they are so out to kill us. i wonder why they have to set such difficult papers. maybe its a corporate pride thing. rafflesianism. national-ism. disgustum.

*

pau and belle came to my house today, supposed to watch some soppy korean show, but the vcds i had were too boring. we fell asleep. ah what better than sleep anyway, the doing of nothing without any guilt. for the past week i had this sullen sense that everything else i did apart from studying was a waste of time.

exams are bad for health.

*

we're going to arab street tmr! whee. lookng for the beads and stuff. then heading back to school to celebrate sir's birthday. i miss hockey. all the trainings and games, and sir. it seems so foreign, like a strange other country, now that all i breathe is words, papers, files.

my room smells musty and weird from the stacks of misplaced papers all over,

all that detail to unload and cram mentally, its like wading through knee high chalk rocks.

*

future. should i go to youth, or senior church camp? prom is unconveniently arranged in between both of them- and cherie would be in japan. no idea how i can get there myself.

Lord please provide a carriage/container/car for transport purposes. haha.and then, should i work in the chocolatecake place? or go for dpf. or tuitioning. or/

*

"she glanced on the mid-plains, walked the middle ground of life- moderation kept her aloof. she was an observer of life, as a psychiatrist to her patient, always seeking to understand its facets without partaking in life as a romantic mingler. and she saw, she saw, life in its shades and tones, life in its forms and silhouettes- but the etching dirt and detail- life's faces, its extremes of delight and excesses of dejection, this she missed."

*

miss the small picture?

maiden wild

woooot! havent blogged in a real long while cos ive got restraint! hmm. cos i ve got exams! cos.. i started revising late! (is that restraint?) cos.. there are only two exams left, econs n lit s! (still exams..) cos theres too much to study! (so i dint start late i just ended studying late?)

effective nullification. im going kooky. no 'going' about it, i am kooky.

this has been my life for the past week
study. til 2 am.
sleep.
wake. 5 am.
study.
exam 3 hours.
bus 1 hour.
study. til 2 am.

with slight variations here and there, like sleeping at 3 or examing for two papers a day.
sleep is the abberation.


i had lots of other meaningful stuff to say as i was going about my day. and i thought i would like to blog it down. now im here. and i forget, i forget.

if I fell in love with you/ would you promise to be true/ and help me understand/ 'cause I've been in love before and i've found that love is more

than just holding hands.

if I gave my heart to you/ i must be sure from the very start/ that you would love me more than her

if i trust in you, oh now please don't run and hide, if I love you too, oh please don't hurt my pride like her
cos i couldnt stand the pain/ and i will be sad if our new love was in vain so.

i hope. you'll see/ oh that i would love to love u/ that she will cry when she learns we are two
if i fell n love with u.

maroon five. it sounds really nice. though the words dont make sense, as always.

ah i remember. hurricane katrina, and the filipino maid murder. how could i forget? i dont know which is sadder, there's no telling i think. the maid case, in particular. its like the lit book we're doing now, Heart of Darkness by Conrad. where Kurtz moves over, solitary, to the tangled wilderness in Africa. without any restrictions, any police watchman, any whispering of neighbourly opinion, he gave in to his inner desire to possess. so since the imperialised black peoples thought he was a god, all the excesses of murder, savage torture, beheading, took place so Kurtz could get all the ivory he wanted. and the people in Europe still thought he was magnificent, that eloquent gifted genius, emissary of light and promise to the uncivilised world.

and they were wrong, because he falsified their belief with his wrong.

maybe anyone everyone, has that potential to be consumed by the darkness. so the maid, the maid.. she was just one of them.

do you like stories?

ah its been so long since i visited i have to dust off the drawers, clear out the unused files. empty space for more life. nothing much to say these days really, the only thing i can feel about is channel news asia news. i cant really feel alot for books. anyway, what purvis [or conrad] said about 'fascination of the abomination' strikes me as quite true. i saw the black guy who lost his wife, his home, all he had in it with one sweep of the waves. and it makes me feel so small and sullen and go silent, thankful, and inexplicably sad at the same time. so little i can do. so i prayed. and there are prolly so many more apart from him.. unseen by the world eye and suffering alone.

then i look at my books and they lose colour and taste [if they ever had them in the first place] and think about how i feast my mind on the melancholy like Dolly in Silas Marner, and think again how true the fascination of the abomination is.

funny how people like purvis and benuel are so unlikeable, how they're so contrary to my values my liking, and yet how often they creep into my thoughts. more often than any other nice person in school. i recently heard many uncanny stories about love. [ugh i hate write-over, if u type in Word u'l know what i mean.]

yes, love. purvis liked this woman in his twenties. one day she broke up with him, and he heard she was with this other guy. after a substantial period of time he decided to go look her up in sheffield, where their university was, where they first met. a professor had died, and he attended the wake. anyhow, he called her mother up in those red phone booths. she wasnt in, but her mother kept urging him to look for her, and said that she would change her mind, she would pick purvis. in fact, she said she should be in town now, in sheffield, since she just left the house. purvis turned around, and there he saw her, outside his little phone booth, walking with her fiance.

...

speak about coincidence. he didn't go up to speak to her.

and he has regretted ever since.

[he's married. still full of regrets. if there's sth u should know abt purvis, he lives in the past.]

like we all do. until something, someone that promises us the future leads us to look beyond.

newspaper forums crack me up. ever read that complaint about hawker centre seats too near the table such that when this guy's potbellied mother sat down she fell off and broke her arm?

dunno whether to laugh or roll my eyes. not too kind of me. ('.-)

have a think about freedom in captivity.

soulchild

20 My prayer is not for them alone. i pray also for those who will believe in me through (my disciples') message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and i am in you. 23b May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 24 I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me. [John 17]

-----

went for festival of praise on friday. with luke cherie amanda heng leonard (: good rollicking stuff. praise God.
was quite quiet while we were sitting there, absorbed in the crowd. like the sheer number of people. hah. i tried to look at the furthest face in the stands from where i was, all i could see was the colour of the shirt. and the length of hair, roughly. then i realised from their point of view im just like that, just a speck. and i was very still. i tried telling luke and he said 'it makes you feel really small.' which was what i meant though i didnt say it. click. i turned to my right and told cherie and she said mm. or hummed mm. or kept silent? haha one of those..
normally i can share such stuff with erica! and i felt quite sad cos i havent brought her to church. what's holding me back? i only invite her when i expect a great speaker, at other times.. i need to bring myself down to eye level and ask 'what do i really feel about youth service?' like a raw, honest dig out. but at best my response is ambivalent. its..like how i feel about people you know? differently. i like being there not because i think its the best of all services, to be honest, but because there are people who pull me down where i want to be pulled down. i can meet with God there, its been my home all this while, then why wont i ask erica? why am i scared she'd be disappointed? when's the right time?

-----

i have this other problem. i dont know what to say to people. sometimes i'd rather be alone. i dont butter to small talk to people i dont know. haha. how?
now i understand why God could wipe out the world in a flood. im linking it to the people at fop who cut the queues, who threw the cd wrappers on the ground, who snapped at ushers and barged in, the grabbers at anti-drug, the ugliness which, perhaps, at unguarded times, flashes tail in me. and if i were God, if i had the power, i might just turn and lash out on this immense degradation because of a sickening wrench, a consuming, wrath.

soulchild- quite a cool name right? we need a revival. we need sustainable fire. we need more of God! nah, more sensitivity to an already present, already yearning, already large, God. thinking of a seminar/retreat/festival to refocus 18-25yos, to worship and pray. to snatch back those who are backsliding. this term should not exist. to rest in the presence of God, to resound for him in the neighbourhoods/ hospitals. if you're reading this pls pray. and tell me if God gives you the green light or no. please! and pass me the names of yr cell members if you are 18 and above this year.

count the shadows

studied til seven in school again. im beginning to like studying now, weirdly. takes my mind off empty spaces in my time. so alone, lone. the library is a nice place. not quiet, and not warm. but it gives me books, with words in them- so few of them nowadays. spoken, i mean. oh yeah and i got myself stuck in the toilet for like almost a minute. haha. my bag strap got caught in the door groove, so i couldnt bang the door open. contemplating calling hannah for help, but instead i prayed. haha. quite comical thinking about it. Lord, pls help me get out. another heave and the door jerked free.
*
walked to the 165 busstop with hannah. the road signs keep us entertained. like [Merge] and we walk toward the road. or [ ! ] and we gasp. stupid things, like little rewards, brainless relief from a clogged up brainday. everyday is a brainday. am i making sense?
*
chanced upon the word Scianmachy in the dictionary. apt. a futile fight with shadows or imagination. i feel like that sometimes. missed the last shuttle bus today, so i took 105 two stops and walked in. it was dark, and at first i peered behind me a few times to check for spookys. or just somebody (spookiers.) no one. stared at my shadow cast by the lampposts and wondered at how smooth and dark shadows are. they glide even though i walk. they stretch and take on the grainy surface of the pavement. then i started singing to myself. haha. i remember looking up at the sky, the discoloured clouds, and feeling so unrestricted. and happy. i do that often. but not often enough, buildings cage up, you know? aircon keeps you from the outdoors, ceilings from the sky, fans from fresh air. i long for something, some- taint, of- what?
*
a taste of God.

x.

scianmachist.

kNOw, there's uglier than drugs.

you know that sort of heavy greasy yellow smoke that not only smells bad but clings to your skin and forces sweat and stickiness out of it? thats how singapore felt to me today. because of a student-intiated, student-administered, student-powered Anti-Drug Campaign! its this awareness drive targetted at youths, which explains its supposedly alluring position at youth park. but, the only people it lured were old aunties, middle-aged women with exploited children, foreign cleaner uncles run by a syndicate auntie... basically any bullets sent out misfired and hit the wrong targets. badly.
*
the ugliness of singaporeans! i never TRULY understood the meaning of kiasuism til today. no, its not just mugging 26 books 26 weeks before the exams, or trying to have your fill at a buffet, or anything like it. in its extreme, its downright convoluted. they were snatching 6 bags at a go, fabricating lies about imaginary friends or neices, coming back 5 times per household member, operating a syndicate by hiring strangers to collect the bags for them such that they had like 50 each. do they think the volunteers are stupid or amnesiac or what.!
*
we are not forgetful, we are just powerless. some cnb personnel told us to get rid of the stock,
'too much leftover, just give at free will, give without restrictions'.
i told him that people would start hoarding- utterly confounded waste of resources!
'then dont let them know that you're giving at free will lah. let them work for it.'
(easy to say?! give at free will, but not let them know we're giving them at free will? stupid logic.)
'work for it in the sense they send their children to lie and grab?'
'anything la.'
that just sickened me. you know? that no one realises that its not a problem with quantity. who actually has been turned against drugs by the campaign? i dare say none! donating it to some charity or to schools would have a greater impact. anything but this- this exposing of people's greed and Ugliness, this perpetuating of lies, to children! how can parents just USE their children this way? i sound idealistic, but i'm not anymore. my eyes have been opened. idealism never did anyone any good. those who write GP essays, get this.

never believe in awareness campaigns, ever!

then when people started their sick hoarding, some other personnel comes over and says 'can you please ensure one person only gets one bag each? this is taxpayers money, we are accountable.' ha. tosh.
*
there's something distinctive about human ugliness. you know the feeling when you're in awe of something beautiful? like a view that simply stuns, that makes you stop breathing-? you cant describe that. words just dont come close to a recreation. ugliness is like that too. nothing said can reproduce that sick feeling that churns and sloshes grey inside. really felt like puking at them. ugliness too, is overwhelming.

faintly disturbing

please don't judge.

please don't get lost.

-i never expected you to get into a muddle.

ah, to get down to the basics!

jesus can you come and dissipate the shadows

and flash us with the full force of clarity

-no, i dont mean simplicity. clarity.

show us the hidden motives of our hearts.
-----------------------------------------------
haha, purvis said:

"a man's not complete until he's married;
when he is, he's finished."

"you want to know the way to creativity? shall i tell you?
its by imitation. you imitate someone else, and along the way you pick up your own voice. creativity can't exist in a vacuum."

i muse about that- there is some truth in it. creativity is more about modifying current concepts with new ideas than thinking up entirely new mechanisms. that would be discovery, wouldnt it?
ah, i wish i wish i wish three weren't such a crowd.

transmuted

party this friday! dunno if parents allow yet. floorball this friday! funfunfun. napfa over! yesterday! aching, but relieved- last napfa of my life. i'm growing old! and balding my friendships- or shaving them off to a narrow elite. motivated! to study when i'm not with books and to play when i'm studying. i want to get real with God. i want to be able to make a promise, a mutual transaction with Him. without hypocrisy, or pride, or greed.

God, promise me that you'll be intimate with me every single day.
through the shallow, cracked moments, as well as the swinging highs.
i promise i will be real with you, even if it means peeling off my transmuted protective layers
and showing you my ugliness. (they dont really protect, i just deceive myself.)

thanks for the kids at swiss cottage sec. been practising english orals o levels with them. they're lovely, lovely.
thanks for giving me stuff to look forward to even when i feel alone.
thanks for msg, we are human, but we are the best ive got so far.
thanks for cherie, amanda heng, amanda lee, jaclyn, gerry, zhonyun, edlyn.
thanks for hannah and belle. and jing and munloh and whui.
thanks for sleep, for books, for clouds!
you are wonderful, wonderful!

the heart of the matter- love jesus.

m-i-s-s-i-n-g some.

last week was the most peaceful week i can recall. thank God for everything.
i want to be content. not to want more of what i cant get, cant be,
it is so difficult.
the london bombings are just horrid.
how can anyone believe in a cause that explodes people- what good comes of it?
none.
i'm sorry for those whose close ones are MISSING. its a fearsome word,
so much space in it for danger, so much potential for harm, for fear
-the wasteland of imagination.
it scares me that all i can feel is sorry for them, not more. though i'd like to.
im trying to be honest here.
after a while the talk dies down, and there's all there is-
talk of solidarity, talk of the horrors of terrorism, gossip talk, sympathy talk, angry talk-
but no face to direct it towards, nobody who can reply.

they have all slipped on

but still i stand here trapped

-i still hurt.

-thats what i'd imagine i would say if i were one of them.

the victims are missed in more than one sense of the word.

'you reap what you sow.' what about the weather? -purvis. i shouldnt give him so much recognition here.

something in me just wants more- of what? of who? for what? for who?

we skate past current moments, only to haunt them in later years with regret.

surrender, serve, save.

i normally fill in the title above after i've written all i wanted in this white space. i think its because right now i have no idea what kind of words will fall into this box. hmm.
*
for some specifics, since this space is often filled with wooly off the head musings.. yesterday these 3 entrepreneurs came over to my school to talk to us, supposedly, about globalisation. goobshop. but they were really amusing, if not tiring after a while. they told us to quit school cos it sucks our creativity, not to bother about grades cos the whole world doesn't care about it, says that the singapore education system is 'too damn conservative' and too preoccupied with producing average goods to come up with anything brilliantly GREAT- too insistent on powerpoint. they asked us to break the rules- choose which ones to break. that in business you have to satisfy a Need, not a Greed (aka what you want to do, what u dream about and think is fun)
*
the metrosexualish one also told us acs has all the entrepreneurs- 60% of his pri school classmates are in business. whereas only 2 of his dweeby RI classmates have dared to tread the non-financial/professional/boring sectors. dont think PAP will like him much, even though he's wearing white.
*
we had inter-class pe also. mixed soccer- and the only people from 1b who played were hannah, me, belle matt and hongwee. the rest were exports. ahaha. so much for class spirit. 'ah-ah-ah'. whatever does that mean? see why i dont like talking about specifics? its meaningless! faceless names in senseless crowds and nameless noise. i dont really care about pe, i dont really care about the three entrepreneurs, (i failed math and i dont think quitting school is a valid solution thankyouverymuch)
*
i'm going to talk about God. who matters to me. who's non-matter to me as well- in all kinds of states and forms and circumstances, he pervades. and i am thankful. breaktimes with him have been delightful, it sets my focus in this world where i am only alien. which is why i still smile despite my grades- because im not defined by them. which is why i'll still be confident even if im friendless, conversationless.. it took me a long time to get here. and im not going to lose my way again.
*

breathe in the sunlight, coax away the rain because its the day- the day- i'm not sure, i must be joyful. he told me nothing matters but Him, and i- i agree!

you cannot snatch.

the devil cannot snatch away, what Jesus with his blood has paid, and with His promise held and stayed.
the most wonderful thing about God is, he keeps his promises, even if i have no right to demand he does.
*
so amusing, the way the evil one tries to snatch away and disperse your focus.
he tries insinuating thoughts- of guilt, (the major trap), of jealousy and envy (lovely strife!), of immorality (ahah, more guilt eh?), of anger and impatience (blow up at people! violence, violence!)
*
or he puts people in your life when your focus is on God, such that you moon about them, rivet the possibilities, dream the unrealities and along the way get sidetracked unto the path of worldly fantasies. a caustic sms, or a certain coldness from a friend, jabs at sensitivity in us, and attempts to deflate us.
*
or, he removes people from your life when you're feeling lonely! or tries to. arguments, annoyance, arrogance, apathy, all strip people from us for a while, at least, to deepen your self-pity or remorse or regrets and truly isolate you.
*
did i say truly?
i'm all alone, God.
but for you.

a tiny but significant but.
i stand on higher ground.
"return to Me, declares the Lord Almighty, and I will return to you." Zec 1:3b

i die daily so i can live by your feet.
you're all i need.

promise me, Lord.

cut out all the religious jargon, the meaningless technicalities, the conflicting human rituals and trivial complexities.
i can't bother with those now,
that i've seen You.

promise me that at no point in my life
will i separate from you
and rebel in my own way

will i become proud
and stubborn and stiff-necked and refuse instruction
and detest discipline.

for everything i am
is nothing apart from You.

bless me, not according to my worldly plans- my vision has been wrong all this while
bless me even if it means walking on my knees before You
may all my purposes fail if they are not of You
let all my dreams fall to the ground if You don't approve.

take the wheel. i have tried to drive
i have collided, i have nothing left.

let me celebrate only as You celebrate.
let my sadness be only your bearable burdens
let my relief only come from You.
i exist only in You-in Your purposes, plans and decisions.

You are in heaven, and i am on earth.
so let my words be few.
God im in love with You.
i surrender it all, for everything more, or less.

For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. Matthew16:25

i will never settle for anything less.
this is a 'never' God will keep for me.

What Happened Last Night.

Nightmare. the most coherent and remembered dream i have had in years. i woke up breathing hard. in the dream i was cupping my mouth and going "Noo!..."

Setting: Old huge school campus, where some church conference was to be held.

Music Room
Amanda n i were worship leading for something. for a moment, i forgot her name (?!) and called her Sam(antha) distractedly. She was hurt and took out this crumpled letter i wrote to her before, penned quickly in blue ball-point ink, where i addressed her as Pam (?!?!)
Amanda: Why you always like that, look at this.. [shows letter]
Me (guilty): Ohh..sorry, i intended to tell u i wrote it wrongly, but..
Amanda (sarcastic): So sincere!

Canteen
Cherie, Amanda Heng and i were sitting in some canteen table eating and talking, when a man promoting things came over and asked us to buy a teddy bear in the box for $25. it came with alot of things, a nice blue Bible, some transparent plastic-y totebag, and other stuff i cant remember. Then i happened to remember we have to get something for a church gift exchange, and decided to share it with amanda, especially since it contained the bible and can be given to evangelise to non-christians as a gift. But, after buying that, another person (or same?) came to ask us to buy locally made t-shirts. Cherie bought two, one blue with black print on it (my gosh i still remember the cut and print), one i dunno what, and Amanda bought one. But i abstained. Conversation begins.

Cherie (certain displeasure): Eh, i realise that when it comes to church stuff you're willing to help, but then if its local industry then you very kiam siap leh.
Me (hostile) : At least i don't buy til i go broke..
Cherie: What?
Amanda (interrupts, trying to mediate): i think she means that she's getting broke buying stuff, so dont want to buy.
Cherie (defensive tone): me too what. when i go broke i'm very happy.
Me: -incredulous look-

journey to toilet
we decide to go to the toilet, Amanda and i.
It was a very old and cluttered place, with useless things lying around. There was some sort of rusty gantry (like the MRT's but lower, painted white and flaking and rusting.) Amanda and i put our stuff outside on the table beside it, and went through. As we walked down we passed the conference room where people were listening to the speaker, the floor was gray carpet, glass office doors on both sides of the corridor, normal tiles again, concrete, and we reached the quieter side of the school where the toilet was.

toilet
Just as Amanda is opening the door, my mind flashes back to Cherie and Sheila scouring the school and telling me afterwards that one of the toilets is haunted. So i immediately cry out, 'Wait! Cherie told me before that one toilet is haunted.'
Amanda: Huh! Don't scare me leh!
Me: -Cautiously opens the door-.. [At that moment the lights go out with a jolt.
Blood racing, yet senselessly bold, i barge in and shout
"in the name of Jesus, if anything here is unclean i command you to leave right now! in Jesus' Name! Thank you God, for this place is now Clean Ground, Thank You LORD!"
i spoke very quickly, shouted emphatically, action or faith or fear or adrenaline seized me.
Amanda cautiously follows behind. The toilet is dim but not completely dark cos evening light was streaming through the top window panes.
We enter the cubicles (!!) to pee, and suddenly hear the door creak open.

Out of paranoia, and more fear, i shouted again, "in the Name of Jesus, go!"
The door banged shut. The lock turned. Locked in.
Yet somehow, without saying a word, i realised that the person was a female teacher, who was trying to check if anyone was in the toilet due to the blackout.
I climbed out of the cubicle and over the sink, to where the window panes were. Just like i thought i had seen in movies before, i started removing the panes. All the while Amanda was lost on my consciousness, still in cubicle. i removed pane after pane after pane, til finally a hole big enough for us to go through was opened. there was a sense of excitement still, like we could escape from a place without anyone finding out who was inside, and i remember thinking to myself during the dream that a ghost story will be passed down that there was a screaming ghost inside who disappeared when teachers went in again. haha.
i called to Amanda to come out and escape. She made some whiney incomprehensible objections, like aiyah, huh, wait ah. Come to think of it, she sounded in discomfort and weak, but i was caught up during the dream with escape and did not catch it.

i tried to test whether the hole was big enough, so i turned sideways and pushed myself through, then jumped down. it was a decent height, not enough to harm. then i turned around and saw the track. i was standing on dusty concrete ground, where the PE equipment like hurdles were chucked, and was startled to see a tracker just rising from his sleep next to the hurdles!

Thankful he did not see me jump down, and in shock, i saw two other trackers coming over and telling him to return inside the school building. three of them made their way, and in order not to look conspicuous i decided to follow them, thinking Amanda would follow behind, and i would try to push them away and distract them so they wont see Amanda climbing out through the hole.

Chaos
Suddenly as we neared the school we saw throngs and throngs of students climbing up the stairs, through the corridors and heading toward their dorms. the excitement was high, a lot of buzzing, and i overheard some girls talking about a ghost.. so i thought the teacher thought the toilet was haunted and asked everyone to return to their rooms. i turned around and walked the other way, down the corridor, so packed with the crowd i was inching along and had no private will. As we got closer to the commotion I saw a group huddled around a yellow toy-looking walkie-talkie. Then i heard Amanda's voice!
"Hey, I'm fine. Even if i die right, its okay." Her voice sounded normal, i felt some relief, but also confusion, so many feelings to feel, to identify, it just swelled and swelled and formed a lump in my throat.
i saw Melissa Lim, my previous Literature teacher and asked her, "Where's Amanda?"
-----

over the enormous noise i could only catch fragments of her speech.

"..but at least with this recording, her father wont be too upset.. amanda died."

[everything stilled blank for a moment, white. still-art. before frantic thoughts clamoured and called and whirled and drummed in my head, thoughts that couldnt be stifled, questions that couldn't settle, all raving, jumping screaming like a siren for attention, HOW! HOW? did she jump down from the window? was she sick and died in the cubicle? What?!]

nothing made sense, senseless faces in a senseless crowd just droning and pulsing around me. the argument, me forgetting her name, her voice as i crawled through the panes, all returned to haunt me. everything inside me throbbing and churning, nobody to turn to, no where to run or hide.
too many words filled my mouth, but the only sound that escaped the jerk of my reaction was
"NOOOO!!!" shock-stricken, suffocating guilt, hands clasping mouth, eyes full of fear and incredulity.

i woke. breathing hard.

-----------------------------------------------

its so vivid, my hair's standing still. if any of you read this, especially Amanda, don't worry okay. it's just a dream, and i will never leave you alone in the cubicle, nor will i forget your name. i also will not argue with Cherie over such a petty matter since we have never flared up at each other again and dont intend to. i will not use God's name in vain. no teacher would lock people in a toilet. church conferences won't be held in such a run-down, infinitely extending campus. you'll never find one in singapore so full of clutter.
it's as though satan is picking at the bits of my life that are precious to me, so many things relevant to my thoughts. my close friendships, ronny's t-shirt making enterprise, in-the-name-of-Jesus (appears in so many many countless dreams). but he can never break them. they're in God's hands.

You, O Lord, will give perfect peace to those whose purpose is firm and trusts in You. -Isaiah 26:3

point-deaf

jac the wohman starts monday! another scheme, another adventure, another leap in the monotony of routine. yay!

i like this skin very much.
i'm sick of the silence. wishywashyseasick (sss..sibilance, n, effect of sound-words to reproduce real sounds)

i wanna run tmr. exams are over. i am free.

i have nothing to say.
and too much to think.

x

dreamy sing-along, sing.

the poem on the right of this bracket by DH Lawrence continues.

Dreams.

All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.

But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,
For they dream their dreams with open eyes,
And make them come true.


-actually i think people who don't dream are more dangerous! they don't indulge themselves in silly riveting make-believe, like someone who doesn't dare to be silly or wooly sometimes because he's too full of strict, sharp edges. ah well. im just trying to take up space on this blog to test out the new blog skin. (: could u tell?
-lit common test tmr, thought id post something literary to salve my conscience, since ive been wasting time doing up this blog. was so irritated with the nacho picture not showing. growl.
-jesus is wonderful wonderful wonderful. have u met him?

replace librarians with friendly old men. like this one! ..erm. :/ "big brother is watching." then again. 

library- a micro-societal review.

To claim to know for certain that God doesn't exist -
to positively assert a universal negative
- you would have to know everything.
To be absolutely certain that God doesn't exist outside the limits of your knowledge,
you would have to possess all knowledge.

why the rudest librarians reside in school libraries.
1. they have minimal pay.
2. they feel unimportant because vips go to public libraries.
3. because they only face students.
-3a. they can boss students around without repercussion, unlike obnoxious vips who can fire them.
-3b. they can book students and write their names in the demerit (curse) book.
-3c. because they cannot flirt with students being overaged and underattractive.
4. because of primitive technology- they have to do manual stamping on books.
5. because they are old females between the (menopausal) ages of 45-60.
6. because they are taking revenge on evil librarians during their decade at school. -vicious cycle!-
7. because they are taking revenge on students like the one writing this.

#97th nasty encounter in school library.
My friend and i were innocently and model-studently studying in our quiet unobtrusive corner of the library. A packet of harmless cherry Smints lay on the table. a PACKET of harmless Smints- note: contained in plastic. note*: not in contact with table or water. note**: not in mouth.
Evil librarian rushes over, violently swipes it off the table, mumbles 'no eating' vehemently and throws it into the rubbish bin! Note: no warning notice- typical of civilised people- like 'put that away before i throw it away.' Note*: she THREW it away! no 'collect it when you leave library.' no explanation, no sign that says no eating sweets.. AND, if plain water is allowed in the library i dont see how more terrorising and volatile a packet of smints is. maybe it reminds her of her dire lack of kisses. "no smint, no kiss." that's not why me n cherie were eating it. honest.

--end of understated and perfectly angelic complaint of status quo in libraries. proposed solution: replace menopausal/ hormonal/ bitchy/ argumentative/ those-women-who-violate-SILENCE-order/ those-women-who-defy-singapore-BE COURTEOUS campaign ... with anarchistic students! (those in library club.)

jungle wet with rain.

you belong to me.

see the pyramids around the Nile

watch the sunrise from a tropic isle

just remember darling all the while

you belong to me

see the marketplace in old Angiera

send me photographs and souvenirs

just remember when a dream appears

you belong to me

and I'll be so alone without you

maybe you'll be lonesome too.

fly the ocean in a silver plane

see the jungle when it's wet with rain

just remember till you're home again

you belong to me.

oh I'll be so alone without you

maybe you'll be lonesome too.

-lifehouse.

murd-er-er.

silliest infatuations.

salsalicious!
look, daddy!

purposeful honesty?

its no fun being cryptic, i realise. no fun reading cryptic. like i'd rather go to a blog and read things off straightforward and blatant. and that's the whole point of me trying to keep this blog highly private, and succeeding really. but i dont know, firstly i dont think i have much to say, and secondly, my fingers still dont trust straying eyes that dust this blog. aiyah rubbish la. i just like keeping fragments of my thoughts randomly scattered. thus i have a gazillion notebooks and diaries at home where i jot down awkward thoughts n eureka moments, or sadder stuff- which i forget. i make silent promises to myself, like i'm gonna study math tmr, and i'm not gonna msg so and so for days.. which is why i only get heart-out-of-the-mouth brazen honesty or uh, depiction, in storybooks. i dont dare to make too clear what im thinking about, dont like to namedrop, because mostly they're just passing musings that i dont really mean.

*now that's as open as ive ever been. hahaa. sick of facades and candied, deceptive words.

i dont know what i think about most of the time, but enough to drift away especially during car and bus rides. i cant focus on the roads for longer than 30 seconds, and you can probably make me believe im headed to jurong when we're going to east coast- that clueless. i guess most of the time i'm just wandering about my mind, creating make believe scenarios and would-be conversations, up in my head. things i would have said, but didnt. things i could have done, but missed out.

i asked my cellgroup three questions related to purpose last sunday. and to my subtle shock, i realised i cant answer them comprehensively. to questions like these there are many answers to be given within one answer. the answers are made up along the way, because we cant really be stone sure, and even after we pick up a pebble and decide-that's it!- we pick up smoother, rounder answers down the path, and are forced to rethink what we used to think before. get what i mean? i can never be sure.
but for this moment on this path at least, here's what i think.

*what is life to me.
-reading a book. routine, but once i engage in it it flies past me and before i know it, the days are over. books always look good and crisp and promising when they're new, exciting and fresh. and once its old and worn, i feel a tinge of nostalgia, and keep flipping back the pages to see what i missed [regrets? memories.] we tend to be judged by the cover, cliched, but still half-true. people read the few lines off the backcover and toss a judgement on it, whether they like you or not, whether you're their genre. and if you're not, you're put on the shelf to mingle with other lives- usually old classics, too.

*what is the purpose of my life.
-trick question. according to rick warren God has chosen 5 purposes for my life. i dont have a say. purpose is not equal to my dreams and ambitions, my talents or actions. its what i was made to do. and the only one who has the say is the one who made me.
-if i didnt already know the answer, i'd say.. pass. too complex for any suitable answer.

*how do i achieve that purpose.
-by asking God, by reading the owner's manual. by conforming to his purposes like plasticine dough in a palm, rather than forming a shape on my own and asking the Maker to make that perfect.

yay. new blog cover.

why cant u be honest and say what you feel. y the lame excuses, the recycled messages. i detest all of that. i detest fhm and maxim. i loathe the pretence, its beginning to pall, and i cant trust what u say anymore. actually since the start of this year, i havent.

if you feel decent enough to try honesty you can ask me why.

i doubt it.

shaved off sharp edges

sometimes i feel like a cactus shorn off of pricks. bare, harmless, mild, boring, alone. the only way to spark off real interest is for pricks to get caught in daily conversations, to be provocative, alive, jarring maybe. there might be a tendency for u to injure or pierce, metaphorically, somebody else with sharp comments or incisive opinions, (not ill-heartedly la. i mean accidentally, like a shooting off of the mouth.) but that's better than being a sanitised vegetation that doesnt say anything entertaining, doesn't have edges, doesn't have teeth- or a tongue.

i hardly babble or 'shoot off my mouth' - controlled like a thermostat ahahaha. [i AM shooting now aren't i? aye but this is virtual. different.] unless unless im with my close friends- like the wohwoh idiots, or erica, or belle.
it's more fun being a Thermometer. i figure if the temperature runs too high the glass tube can explode or crack-burst or something and release steam. rather than a subtle bubbling under the surface, always on the verge of popping- but not quite. only on the verge.

its quite funny, today luke meiching royston sarah james n joel n i went to Faith Methodist for this supposed worship leader workshop thingy. but it turned out to be cancelled, so we just had a lunch and i went home. the rest of them went Fathers' Day shopping- excuses excuses :) i did wanna go, but since im not attending the 7pm worship with reuben, and im accumulating the guilt debt for Lack of Mugging... i headed home.

but guess what?? after i collected my bangkok photos i went and made this black paged photo album with purple organza cloth on the cover (part of my curtain) and ribbon binds. ITS PRETTY! but such an irrelevant waste of time. AND, *dingdingding* i cooked vegetables!! sigh. im gonna study til midnight today then. promise..? scowl.

guilty bald cactus.

rocks sink the mind

my profuse apologies for perpetuating gender-based stereotypes and propagating narrow-minded stigma against females in my previous blog entry- IT WAS A MAN.
not 'a woman', not 'some woman', who complained against Swenson's.

spent the whole day reading international history notes on the middle east conflict and cuban missile crisis. dont they ever get sick of the fighting? it just keeps going on, and on.. i'd be tired staying angry at a person for a day, much less 4 sustained bloody gritty wars over a period of, what, almost twenty years?

boy, im tired already. oh. and i read 1 Kings 18, the part where Elijah prayed that God would show them that He is Lord and will turn Israel's heart back toward him.. and the Lord sent fire, licking up the water in the trench, in full burst before the defeated, self-slashed mock prophets. no continuum at all, huh? some. old israel and new battlingallday israel. i still want to visit it. is it safe? mindless rambling. i better get someone else to illustrate for me what my thoughts vaguely grasp at, but my throat cannot find words for. the moment it gets to the tip of my tongue, it is lost.

i keep myself to such measures- robert creeley

i keep to myself such
measures as I care for,
daily the rocks
accumulate position.

There is nothing
but what thinking makes
it less tangible. The mind,
fast as it goes, loses

pace, puts in place of it
like rocks simple markers,
for a way only to
hopefully come back to

where it cannot. All
forgets. My mind sinks.
I hold in both hands such weight
it is my only description.

+such weight.

a coloured commentary

i really think if i mention the word 'Singapore' those prying journalists will just find me on google and sound out my thoughts on modern society. -i just did. and i'm saying this because i do, for once, have something to contribute to the thinking scene. (rarely, untruthfully so)

i read in the forum, on separate days-
#1. this person complained about the Registry of Marriages spelling 'solemnise' solemniZe. the incriminating Z! how dare they. and advised that the standard of English must be upheld rigorously, to an alphabet, thank you very much.
#2. someA woman complained about paying 3cents extra at Swensons or someplace because the bill rounded up instead of down. [sorry, but uh, what CAN you buy with 3 cents? okay. maybe if you collect 33.3 X 3 cents, you can go to the dollar store and buy half a sock. gasp! but..]

sometimes singaporeans, from the inability to discuss more mature, politically relevant issues- such as the white party, (we are oppressed by the OB markers, are we?) turn toward bread-and-butter issues instead. not only bread and butter, its MSG & margarine- artificial, superficial, a layer of cheap seasoning and unhealthy marsh.

hehe. tongue-in-cheek sounds mischievous, but actually its an everyday occurence, ever thought about it? foot-in-the-mouth is more unusual, and is probably what im doing now.

went swimming today and saw the crescent moon. at 6pm. its like a biscuit, or a chip of porcelain. and wondered about my future profession. considering: advertising, journalism (?!), law, psychology, architecture.
and once ive earned enough money i will 1. travel overseas to US, UK, maybe africa or israel. 2. open a shop designing either clothes, shoes, or bags.
see? so many options in an uncoloured dreambook. once i start colouring it in, with A level results and university course, the picture becomes clearer and more defined, but also more restricted.

+uncolouredhopes.

bangkok and the blues

i wonder why you sink on your knees

and mope

when it isnt even over

you havent even tried.

i wonder why you box up

your hidden thoughts

lace up your words

so they dont say anything

so i wouldnt know unless i saw.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

back from bangkok. (: UN building, field projects, shopping, 6-course meals, tomyam soups, hotels, busrides, Kitti (: our lovely daddyish tourguide, BadBoys, level 8, bridge, night markets..

it was good fun, though in a sense im glad to be back.

away from the competition of it all

back though, with a fever n flu

37.8 at the doc's, now im not so sure. cant find my thermometer- read: too lazy to dig it up

it seems that to find anything i own, i have to DIG it up. like house-hunt. there's so much detail.

papers stuffed in boxes, oh papers are the worst. i hate sorting them out.

and i dont like ornaments either, dont know what to do with them. there's no space for me to display them, and since im a grateful sentimental sort ;) i dont want to throw it away..

it just becomes Detail.

-do u know if u blow ur nose too hard the mucus gets into yr ears and they get blocked?-

i'm rambling. arent i. took real nice photos in bangkok. i should like going on a photography trip.

id love to travel.

nothing really happens these days. especially now im sick, i vegetate/ spent whole day sitting around

not doing much, not thinking at all.

thinking is difficult.

ooh im not cut out for acting. uncle blue sprang on me with a surprise that i was to act the part of Holy Spirit in his sermon skit. n that i was leading pre-service prayer.

to be sick, just back from bangkok the night before.. some kinda tough.

ah well, its over. and well. Thank God.

uncle blue told me that he's training me to become his co-cell leader. my first response was: huh? then i'll be leading two cells.

he didnt seem too happy with my unenthusiastic response. but its just that im very cautious of committing myself.

i dont want to sign up for something i wont put in full effort for, and end up not doing well in. at least that's what i think i'm doing. it may just be that im lazy, or feel im not up to the job, or am refusing to believe im older than them. hahaha. this entry is long enough.

holy holy are you lord, the whole earth is filled with your glory!

Maximum Happiness!

the final match of hockey in my life is over. and im proud to say we fought hard. real hard. being one goal down seems like a dejavu- of a dream i had last year, on the exact same date. but that's a lie. because this year it was different. last year we gave up and pretty much sank in our shoes the moment one goal was conceded. this year, nothing stopped us. we had possession most of the time. we didnt break or buckle after that one goal. every one of us on pitch held fast to the hope that we would claim it back. that we could. and we fought real hard. even the people in the stands could tell. we didnt think of giving up, not for one moment. we just lacked the finish. 3 attacking shortcorners, and zero conceded. that's a feat. 75% of the time in their half. that's a feat. sarah saved a 1v1 hit against her. that's amazing. our pressure on them was intense. so much so their final cry when the whistle blew was one of relief. RELIEF. not cold complacency. and im speaking the truth. not exaggerating because im bitter or upset or regretful. no hard feelings. because there was not one more thing we could have done. sure, there were mistakes here and there, but we worked hard to reclaim them. and the fighting spirit which we lacked in the beginning, it was HERE today. in every single one of us. sir is proud of us. surely.

when the whistle blew, the whole team was surprised. we were in the Zone. adrenaline rush pumping us forward. no exhaust. no mental lapse. just 120% all out intense sweat, effort and strength. as i walked toward the bench, i was all calm. no sadness, no tears, no angst, no bitterness. we lose like champions. because as a team, we have achieved the most in each of us. all this sounds cliche. but you have to be a sportsperson to realise it is true. all the 'you can do it' 'play your game' mantras, they are true. Hockey is not just a game. it taught me about Respect. about Sacrifice. about Calm Confidence. about Maximum Happiness. about Being Perfect.

We Are Perfect. i've never been so happy being second. im so proud of US.
as i stepped into the shed, Sir said 'you played well feli.'
'..but i couldnt send out the 16-yards.'
'doesn't matter. you played well.'

tackles, sweeps, channeling. it hasnt sunk in that my hockey stick will henceforth be unused. i dont want this to end. it means too much to me.

i cant stand supporters who go there to pick out the flaws in your game and dig their nails deeper into your raw sores. they are no friend. they just happen to be dad, bro and jac. i guess. they mean. well.