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?
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Thursday, June 23, 2005
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.)
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.)
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
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.
Monday, June 20, 2005
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.
*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.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
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.
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.
Monday, June 13, 2005
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
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!
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