not so fast

Took some time off to let Facebook remind me of the things which happened this year. I had the thought that the year flew by, now I reconsider that notion.
The pictures are vivid. Really vivid. I can remember when I was really smiling and when I was making for the camera. Those tell-tale shots with my hand on a phone... I remember the issues which they signify, events which did not make it to film.

The small things all add up. Many things have changed. So have I.

Some for the better, a few for the worse.
I thought I was growing well in the army, but school and such proved that I was in fact in somewhat of a hiatus.
The mistakes I've made in school till date reminds me that I have much to learn and grow.

I wish I have time to sit someone down and talk about this year. With pictures, walk myself by walking them through.
There is time though, I can be sure about that. I hope I grasp it.

intended audience

I was pondering over the different sort of reactions people give when you talk to them about a particular blog post or journal entry they made.

Some are immediately excited, they are sort of glad that someone shares the same thoughts act.
Then there are the defensive ones who assault you with all forms of accusations of stalking and that it creeps them out and you should stop it or they will up their privacy (which some really carry out :O).

I wonder why, and if I want to give their character the benefit of the doubt, maybe it boils down to intended readers.
Not everyone who keeps a blog is honest about knowing that a blog is public. I.e, whatever you published is really freely open to scrutiny from the public. So why do they still do it? Why not keep one in their silly laptops or on tangible paper?

I think most bloggers have intended readers. People they try to get to amidst a sea of possible readers. When you take interest in their blogs but they never took interest in you, they get... disappointed.
I don't know. It's a cauldron of intentions and emotions there.
I think it's something like disappointment and then all sorts of indignation. They may even be mad at themselves, for failing to tailor their posts in a way which attracts only the desired attention.

Then there are those who are really aware. Who blogged because they don't even care if anyone reads it. Any reader is a pleasant surprise. They don't care who exactly reads it either, though preferably if anyone has something to say, it better be intelligent.

I think I'm describing myself. Back when I had a tagbox, I received a fair share of shit comments. There are people who decked themselves in anonymous avatars and offer a wise crack or 2.
One I distinctly remember was when this boy from JC (when I was in JC. Yes I term him "boy" for reasons) came and offered a "don't worry, she will be loved" in response to some musings over the breakup I had in J2.

That's the sort of thing that ticks me off. I don't feel stalked, neither am I motivated to shut down my blog in someways. But seriously, if anything, such comments are the ones which fully warrant a negative response (which can well be a no-reply).

Whereas for those stalker accusers, I don't even have one thing to say. You put your blog up, it's open. If your first reaction is "Why did you stalk me?", deep within the recedes of your mind you did it all intentionally for CERTAIN stalkers to stalk you.
So if you're already into exposing yourself intentionally for stalking, don't get picky. Face the music.

to like someone

A thought crossed my mind today. What makes us like someone?

It seems like a pretty ridiculous question, some even doubt an answer. It's not a rational thing, it just happens. So they say.
I'm not so sure. I think there is reason to investigate this. Why? (Gosh I can feel my writing mod lessons creeping in right now!)
The thing, I observe that our hearts lead us to places we shouldn't be. It's odd because some people think that when it feels right, it is right. Some think that the special something makes the call. The special something happens with special someones and thereby signals the single flower amidst the forest.
Apparently not! Have not your feeling led you places you shouldn't (and for the more rational, didn't) want to be? Well what do "places" here mean?

I mean, if you have experienced, a girl who is incredibly intriguing but somehow there's something doesn't tick well at all. For instance, maybe she's this rich girl from some other country, with parents who enthusiastically believe in arranged marriages? Or how about someone who's everything but Christian? How about...
It goes on, and I assure you, into even more specific categories. I don't want to think about all of that now.

But it strikes me.

For one, I admit to liking multiple girls at any given, general, instance. I agree however, that there is always one who is different. Vastly outclassing the rest in hierarchy. Not in terms of class, intellect or anything. In something... even I don't know.
Just one, just one girl enjoys the privilege of ever appearing in the dreams. Just one whom you're not only happy, but pleased and overwhelmed whenever you see her. Just this one whose reactions feel like a crystal mirror, who seems to be acutely responding to all the ugliness in me. Just this particular girl whose happiness seems tantamount. You wish you were there whenever she needed help. You always went over the top when it comes to assisting her. You drop everything, you search the internet dry for answers. You run, not walk when there is something she needs.
Whereas the rest... if they got caught in a tight situation earlier in the day you don't feel the same sense of loss. Sometimes.. you just laugh it off. You prioritize acting cool.
But the girl is different. You forget to. Sometimes you sit back and wonder if the way you behaved made you look more like a girl. And you wonder if you should artificially bolster your chauvinistic side. These plans never work. They always fall flat.

But yet. This girl... at the back of your mind you know she's kinda incompatible. Strangely, fatally incompatible. You try to picture how an evening would be spent with her... and nothing quite surfaces. You marvel at how the random events you have had unfolded effortlessly. They were enjoyed thoroughly but evidently never to be replicated.
You think you have exchanged words over deep topics before but you cannot be sure if you can pull it off again. At any rate, getting her will feel like a lifetime achievement, yet possessing her feels so.. futile.
Sometimes you want something so much until the only thought which stands a chance of sobering you is "and then? So what?"
And you never quite find the answer.

Maybe she likes you too. In the same special way. Tragically, neither of you have the answer. The drag is killing you both, her eyes fall and with that, you.

So special... and yet ultimately replaceable. As life rolls on, the awkwardness cements the impossibility. Some other special person comes into play and you feel this nonsense again. Maybe this time it all works out. Maybe not.

Either way, I don't see the answer I desire. If it only works out now, what's the difference? If it doesn't then what difference do our feelings even make? What does it mean to like someone? I grow gradually discouraged!
Desperately Discouraged. Discouragement perpetuates desperation.

daydream

In one fleeting moment, I pictured myself as someone else.

There's this alluring sense of possibility along with the promise it brings.

What if I were wrong? What if I'm more than the sum of my idiosyncrasies?

What if the good can stay with the bad gone? It certainly can.


For now the only thing I can do is to keep working. Keep doing the things I have to, while I have the time to.
All these sitting around has dulled my mind. My vision is narrowing and my perception shallow.

Show us Your glory
Let it be shown
If we can't get our eyes to open the easy way
Then show it amidst the fire and snow

Let it be shown
That we may grasp Your majesty
And return to worship.

Just like that

I checked out of Angsana, received my results for paper 3. With that, I declare semester 1 over. 

It's been a semester of hit and misses... with many instances of "too late".

I shudder. 

Thank God for the comic relief this morning. It's the silly things in life that makes all the solemn stuff bearable. 

After hauling a huge box of stuff to the taxi and home, I thought I was done.

But I thought too soon. A call came in, and a familiar voice was on the other end. The guy at the counter during check out was on the line. Turns out I returned my tap key... and along with it, my matric card. 

2nd time I lost it. Once after philosophy paper, and now, again. 

I change into my running attire because I live so near angsana. I bring my ez-link card to be on the safe side... And it didn't take long for the run to convince me into taking a bus anyway.

Why? That crazy ING on saturday. Every single muscle on me is sore, even muscles I never knew existed are crying out in pain. I have been "helping" myself into chairs and I take care to not laugh or cough too much. So much, from a full day's of sports. 

Frisbee, floorball, captains ball and finally basketball. I played every single one of them, and played every single match, save for captains' ball. 

As I arrived in U-town round noon, it already feels different. The place is... unfamiliarly silent. It almost feels like the very same day I checked in mid-way through arts O week. Beyond that is this sense of absence. I felt a trace of this when she left on saturday, but I feel it more acutely now. 

"We lost the game" I typed. "Even so, I think I lost my temper more times than I lost games today."

She didn't stay for the conclusion of that intense face-off at floor ball finals. There's something she saw though, throughout the day. A side of me often tucked away. 

You see, hope is a very odd thing and bitterness can run so deep.

I've been bitter, bitter every following day since my exams ended. I was bitter because people were shitting all over the games, even after they signed up. I wonder and find myself amused at how some can sign up, when they are going to be overseas on the gameday. I'm also amused that some can claim they can't make it, only to have me catch them checking out when I was taking a break between games. 

I can't decipher the frivolity and lies these people give me. All day long through the week when I laboured to get their attendance. 

And so I was bitter. But that's not all.

The frisbee team. I hounded them from the day the list was finalized. Pleaded with them to go down for trainings but they wouldn't. For the few who did, they were so often over-zealous. Which was a dilemma really. Sometimes they'd try a big play or something fancy and improvised and their lack of skill prevents them from proper execution. 

I don't know what to make of it. I can see the effort and thought that goes into it because I used to be the same. I used to work my mind for creative plays which may give me an edge over the professionals. I know it's something thoughtful, but more often than not, it simply throws the game away. 

And so on friday I tried correcting these things, I criticized and chided them. I tried to point them towards a more "conscious" and responsible style of playing.. and they were lapping it up.

So why the opposite, on saturday? Why were they not man-marking no matter how many times I reminded them? Soon I began shouting. (but at least I did not become sarcastic, phew)

But I could have made through that day without shouting... so why did I do it?

I wanted to win. Yet, it was a new desire. I did not have victory on my mind the entire week. I knew what we were up against, I knew we stood little chance, I thought I resolved to just have fun...

But the first frisbee game reignited it in me. 

It was red house, the strongest house. They scored and we equalized. I thought I tasted a brief possibility... that if we were to stick to the principles, be orderly, disciplined and throw ourselves into the game... that we could win. 

and so the lack of discipline (though expected and understandable) really ticked me off. This, together with the latent bitterness saw me lose my temper many times in the morning. 

The problem was hope. The day was filled with instances where a flicker was teased before me and then put out. Repeatedly. 

All along, she was watching. They were all watching. I knew they were watching... but none of it did anything to slow me. 

Then the floorball games and my disputes with the referees (though I still think I'm right, look at the pictures, look at all those high sticks, please). 

To think of it, this isn't the first time. It isn't the first time I'm showing my true colours before the angsanians. 

The first formal dinner was another. Where I was almost drunk and was misbehaving that a Residential Fellow told me that I needed to "get the F**K out!"

Then this. 

I don't know what people think, neither do I know why they forgive me. Neither do I know if they do forgive me. Trying to put together the better side of myself in front of a girl is the small part- I'm sure everyone does it to a certain extent. I just wonder... at the conclusion of the first semester, if there is a deeper problem.

Or maybe I should've stuck to staying away from sports. 

"Aiya there's always next sem.. next sem more ready."

"next sem don't want alr. I was thinking that.. for me, I lost my temper more times than I lost games today."

"why not? Yeah, probably.. maybe too eager to win, ahh it happens lah, during competitions."

"woah, that's a very unexpected reply"

"what did you expect? hope it doesn't offend you"

You really thought so? I wish you are right in thinking so. 

That...

That my reactions were legitimate

that...

 I'll really be ready next semester

on the contrary

I see facebook posts celebrating the imminent conclusion of the final exams.

I feel slightly disconnected.

I see posts written, celebration in anticipation

I see anticipation, anticipation to abandon everything the term has crammed into our heads.

I feel a disconnection.

Personally,  I'm starting to hate this. I grow to treasure my subjects only at the last moments. I don't know what I've been doing the countless days and hours in my room when instead I could be studying. I could be appreciating the things I've learnt.
But now, it's a little too late.
There's too little time to...
appreciate.

I had grander dreams. I did. What happened?

I feel dead desperate now. Not in the mood to finish my essay.
Nothing seems significant at all. I feel like I'm writing dribble.

I just want to sleep. And wake up in my room. I wish I don't have to take all these emotions in
at a juncture where my hands are full.
O God can't you take these all
and put it on yourself?

What stops me from surrendering all?

Creating pain in the bypassing of it.

What, am I taking my A levels this year? Nope, not really.

Maybe it's just a culmination of things, you know, issues which are dwarves in themselves.
Little things getting to know one another, then joining hands and tripping me all over.
Then something else rises in me. It's the real nemesis. He's always within.

He gets up, frustrated and throws everything down.

It's a self sabotage.

Who are the dwarves?
The writing module paper 3 is a dwarf. It isn't that hard. If only I borrowed the book.. if only I made the effort to.
Church camp is a dwarf if I choose to stick legalistically to my job scope. If I can reply coldly "er, I think that's your job" to all sorts of requests it wouldn't be a big deal. As it stands I'm not convinced that I should relegate it to dwarfness.
My exams? Ha ha. Why do I only mention them now? I have no idea. They're not much, in themselves. I just never really had a peaceful exam period. Each is fraught with all sorts of demons. All wrestling for my attention, all knowing that I will spare them some, always.
And then there's this idiot friend. Who's doing the same thing she did the last term break. Why always at this timing? I'm not sure. What shall I do? Play victim... or should I be the nice guy. Shall I dismiss this as I did the previous time? Or shall I insist. Shall I make things difficult on the basis that this happens to be one of my peeves? I'm considering, I'm thinking hard.
I also wonder if it's even worth thinking hard over.

There's something else, a same old theme I'm sick to repeat. After a run... I wonder. I wonder if my actions changed anything. I wonder if it changes your mind. I speculate about what you really think of me... and then I wonder why I even care.
I'm almost done rationalising my way out. I almost done seeing that nothing good's coming out of this.
But the enigma draws me back. I may certainly never find another. You're an opportunity far too golden.

But why shall I drag my heels over this? What if something happens. What if, this falls off the precipice?

Back to life, back to looking at it.
These little concerns, the concerns other than my studies are the ones I'm really after. They flood my mind and rob my time. I'm compelled to bypass my studies and think about the things I'm really after. But in the bypassing of this hassle
Is the creation of real pain.

How does one finish his essay and preparations for sociology (the whole of both) in a day?
God please make me a genius for once. Like a DOWNRIGHT genius.
I dread the coming days. I passionately hate them.

Not even close baby

I was thinking that I understand what my brother is going through now.
I thought I'd even say that I'm facing something similar.

Actually it isn't. When I think about it, it's the close shaves in life which are hardest to let go.
I haven't had much of close shaves.. the current one isn't even close.

When I think about it I start to realise why he keeps talking about it these days.
I'd talk about it if I were in his position.
But I'm me. I don't.

it survives

When I wake up I still feel the same.
I'm of the same opinion still.

That's good, it wasn't flippant.
It wasn't some self pity or anything.
This persistence points to the existence
of a real and compelling issue.

is it... is it... is it?

One can only guess what this means, pissing off 3 people in one night.
Exam stress? Personal reasons? My fault?

What's the reason? There are reasons for each of the reasons.
Maybe, I dread to think of it this way, maybe the world is filled with nice people. Nice people whose toes I tread on every waking moment. So these things are surprises because in some sense I had it coming.
You had it coming... sounds familiar. It's the favourite way of dealing with me.

Maybe, I dread to adopt this, I've been living on borrowed time. Maybe my existence really taxes the patience of others.
Maybe they sit down and wonder, maybe it's a calculated murder.

It's not funny anymore. There's no place to start either, for a kindly voice reminds me right here and now that this is part and parcel of virtual interaction.
It's most likely misinterpretation on my part... or the emboldening of the individual on the other side. Choose. Maybe, both.

generic sadness

It's raining again and oddly enough it was the rain which woke me up. No no, not the lightning for there isn't any, just the rain.
With the rain comes about a usual bout of generic sadness. This is a term I have come to use for the odd tender sensation I often experience when it rains. I don't even know where it's coming from.

There's added reason today, first, I overslept. Oversleeping usually makes me sad because it means I sleep later in the night. It means I sleep at 2 or 3 or risk time wasted rolling on the bed while convulsing within tides of sleep paralysis.
But more so today as I awoke with guilt, guilt regarding the unfinished writing module work I have to complete, to complete by 8am tomorrow morning.
I think about it and I feel sad immediately. Yes yes, so the writer in concern is a little more disappointing than usual and now I may well have to find another... but why only now? Why only now tucky? Why always... only now?

I don't know. Leonard's departing words make sense to me now. Living life on the edge... maybe the bleeding edge, maybe I'm bleeding out but I only glimpse this in brief moments like this.

Or maybe it's the familiar knocking noise mixed into the steady beat of the rain. Maybe the plight of the construction workers are creeping into my consciousness. I wake up to a heavy rain and the sound of construction unsettles my heart. Even now? Even now?
This sentiment runs back to my first days in angsana... or maybe to when I, innocently 7, watched the construction of a condo from my piano teacher's house... where every morning now I wake up to the knocking sound. These guys begin at the light of day and sometimes the sound only trails off at around 9 at night.
Necessarily implicated is what I learnt about Singapore's treatment of foreign labourers during last sociological tutorial. Is this another evidence? An evidence that the country I love does ignore the rights of these poor labourers?

Or maybe it's that letter. I'm sure my heart was okay as I wrote it... perhaps just a little overzealous. My heart raced when I delivered it, I didn't want to get caught and misunderstood, I rationalized.
Fasttrack to now, my heart has been racing. It has not ceased since morning when I was told to expect a reply. A reply which was going to take 2 days or so... but a reply!
I know I'm overreacting, I feel this child in me taking over. I'm in deep anticipation.

I wake up and recall the thing I'm waiting for. The entirety of my being, compelled by the unhappiness which my work and the work downstairs, awaits. It remembers the thing it dropped before it retreated for sleep...


And the rain still provokes the same unsettling sadness. Perhaps it's just my stomach... perhaps it's time for dinner.

Consequently, the biggest tragedy

"the best feeling in the world is knowing that you actually mean something to someone."
Quoting a facebook friend.

No, don't. Don't start thinking that I'm about to disagree with this statement. I'm not as disagreeable as many people are beginning to think. For instance, I do agree that I'm disagreeable. 

The statement there is an accurate description of how many of us feel. I don't want to have to say if it's true of if it's the way to live our lives with integrity. I just feel that for the most of us, it does apply. 

Heck, I take myself for an example. 

When I got my A level results (oh this is the season, so why not?) I went home alone. I didn't even get to catch lunch with my friends or anything. Reason? Some didn't do well, some didn't remain friends after results. 

So there I was on the train ride home, dressed in no.4 and carrying my field pack. The weight on my shoulders greater in orders of magnitude than what was imposed by my bag. I wished the good results meant more. I wished it meant that people could be proud that they knew me, that in those 2 years they walked along a giant. 

The best feeling is knowing that you actually mean something to someone. It's true. In studying society in sociology, I learnt that many things are defined upon reflection against the society. How do we know that we are "mad"? One way is to notice that we have begun to behave in a way which is contrary to the majority. 

How do we know that the things we do are worthy? When they are endorsed.

Of course it'd be rather silly to say that therefore there isn't any real madness or real worth out there, if the society did not think so.

As Christians we look out for the norm and the approval of God. How do I know if I'm not mad? When I find myself obeying the laws of God, when I walk in the ways in which he has prescribed that we should walk in. 

How do I know if what I'm doing has worth? When it is aligned to what pleases God, as revealed to us in the bible, as reflected when I am bearing fruit and blessed. 

It feels good to know that we actually mean something to someone. Some other human.. and it feels good already. But when we say this, what do we really mean?

I speculate that someone says that in realisation, upon exiting a state whereby one lived in the absence of meaning something to someone. That's where things go wrong. That is where the tragedy is.

Because we mean something to God in every living moment. To not know this, is tragedy. 

To feel as though we've exited from meaninglessness into meaning when we are embraced by someone else is to forsake a summer's vacation on the beach only to return to a sandpit. It is to miss the greater joy and to be contented with something lesser. 

Yeah, it feels good to know that we actually mean something to someone. You always meant something to God... So doesn't it follow that we ought to feel really good all the time? That the supreme being, the creator of the world sees us as part of His own glory?

If I can really comprehend what I just typed, I will live my life to the fullest. If only if this isn't just in my head. 

We accept the love we think we deserve

A bit of me died at the end of that sentence.

It's a clear reflection of tragedies in the world anyway. Someday, along the way, someone feels less confident. It snowballs, it goes uncheck.

Break ups happen today over a myriad of reasons. Sometimes we find ourselves rushing too quickly into something we don't comprehend... and woke up. The realist in us (who is usually asleep) screams that this is unsustainable. You can't live forever with a glaring mistake. A mistake so as to speak.

But then there are also those really tragic ones. When being love starts becoming a bane.
That's what the title's all about. Somehow somewhere along the way it fractures and dislocates. We feel sorry that we're being loved. Or maybe we don't believe it anymore.
A stubborn shade of grey impossible to erase.

It doesn't seem to go away. But it may if you left and carried it with you. And so that's what they must do.

We're having some choir activity now. A moment of reflection. We get to choose to do it in solitude and so as usual, that is what I chose. 

I just felt compelled to write this. Meeting today kind of brings me back to the start of this year.

This is a good time to think about it.

And to think about it, the start of this year already feels foreign. Again, maybe nothing in my immediate environment changed drastically, but my mental landscape has had some significant terraforming.

I already knew from the start that this year was going to be a rough ride. Unsure of how a first year committee member can be chief group leader and also unsure of how exactly I'll be able to engage adults in Chinese. Finally, all these decisions were made without an inkling as to how life as a relief teacher would be nor eventually,  how university will play out.

The whole year just passed like that. There were few days where I found myself doing something really for fun. Every moment of fun was like a moment of de-stress. They come like a much needed antidote for the poisoning of my mind by all sorts of labour. I did not really have time to seek out fun. Well, even the hongkong trip was a bit of bittersweet.

Then came university. Even O week seems like a distant mystery to me now. I do not remember why I was that happy and carefree. University... well in attempt to avoid misrepresentation, is not all that bad, just no cause to scream "awesome!" "I've waited for this my whole life of 20 years and it is worth the wait!"

Not even close. Not even close baby.

And so over the course of the few months my initial fear just lifted. It was not even because I found the fears unjustified, but that the tsunamis swept irresistibly over me and drowned them all. I had a cause to fear, but instead I just got dragged along the undercurrent and went through the obstacles, one by one, as they came.

I got embroiled in a few rounds of extreme distractions: where there were girls who drifted so ever closely to my ideals.. and one who scored so well in the physical attraction department that.. Oh nevermind.

But back to the point, it's nearing the end of this year and... I don't see why I was so fearful at the start. More importantly, I don't even know why I don't feel afraid. I'd rather I feel that way.

Because life is passing so quickly, my sentiments are quick;y becoming synonymous with reality.

If I bungle along, if I just get through somehow, if they don't leave scars... I don't feel alive.

In fact, I'd think I lived too carelessly. And once again, even though I notice this every year, the year passed unnoticed. 

I don't know what warrants the smile on my face today. I'm still struggling pass everyday, barely, passively making it.It's just one sequence after another. I'm just a cart on rails.

I want to savour it. I want to feel the fear I felt.. so that somehow it certifies that the sentiments I felt were genuine.

And consequently my live was lived. 

blind, frisbee.

As I looked into the sky, a voice rang out within my head.

"If you just get over it, if you just walk away, you glorify God".

There's apparently this move in frisbee where you nudge your opponent from behind to occupy his attention. Darting to get the disc the moment he turns to investigate the irritation.

Apparently it's a move. But obviously it isn't. Frisbee is a non contact sport. Funny if it has a tactic which involves precisely violating that one rule.

And you know me. It annoys the shit out of me when people try to pull the wool over my eyes. We're how old? Why are we still being dishonest? And what's with the confidence with which you said it? Where did you draw that from? Your dullness?

The thoughts driving me into madness, the next moment, I found myself blinded.
Yeap, the nudges at an irritable rhythm were felt along my back. This sizzling euphoria filled my skull, creeping up from my jaw into my brain.
My elbow shot up and hit the guy in his ribs. Turning around and giving the most sinister smile,
"Hey, this blind thing is pretty useful" I said.

I think... I performed a blind in more than one sense.
And even as my anger burns on, I struggle to notice what I've lost today.

Another chance, slipped out just like that. Where in blind rage I deprived myself from the only chance to do the right thing tonight.
If you had kept your eyes open, if you let your mind fight off your heart...

The ifs add fuel to the fire.

Please grow up already. Please have some hope. Please be a good boy.
Please do your work.

You can't come to realizations and simply walk away.
If you do without changing you place yourself in a certain doom.
How many more realizations will you need, how much more intense?

indeed, how many more can happen?

until you learn

It's a pretty frustrating thing when you arrive at the laundry, only to see the washing machines ticking down to the final minutes.
You endure it, you sit for awhile and then when it hits zero, you dismay to find that there's no one really coming to clear the machine of their clothes. However, you do notice at the same time that it was wrong of you to expect that.
You whip out your laptop to do your readings, but you can't focus. Something just eludes you. The reason... why would anybody not collect their clothes on time? Isn't it highly plausible that someone may need it right away?

There's something else eluding you, it's yourself. You don't know why you took 10 whole minutes to clear yours out the last time, you don't know why you were so relieved to see there nobody was there, waiting to bring you down.
Now you just don't know why you're so critical. You wonder why you're so blind about yourself.

So you must sit and wait, there is no clue or signal. There is no estimation.

For the time which seems stretching to infinity, you wait, until you learn..

that you are critical not because you're better.
You are because you are fallen.

Comprehend

"No Surprise"

Brought my mind back to the final days of army. Those days where though the end was imminent we were in no hurry to forgive each other. We were political till the very end, the prospect of the end did no bring us peace nor motivate us to settle for even some cheap (because it would have been so much worthier if we did it in the toughest of times) reconciliation.

The staggered leaves and offs did not help at all.
The groups who stayed behind together stuck together, each one with words to say about the choice of days the others took. Everyone had an opinion about the ones who delayed their wisdom tooth extraction to the final days.

As the song played on, a mysterious sense of loss welled up in my heart. This loss harkens back to the insignificant days where as we walked back from the cookhouse, I mused about missing army someday when everything was over. But it doesn't stop there

My hypocrisy assaults me like a mad man with a club.
Dude, what are you really missing? This nonsense? You missing the pretentious smiles or the unproductive days? You can't miss something you didn't bleed for.

And what did I not bleed for?
Did I not put myself in the line of fire, have I not spoken courageously against the officers?
Have I not sacrificed, have I not gone the extra mile to cover the asses of those who were happy to burden everyone else?
Have I not, in a dramatic fashion, freely forgave my commander for the stupid decisions he made, one of which gifted me an injury I still deal with today?
have I not worked for a good ending, a life which I can look back and say, "no regrets?"

But it's not enough, much of what I did, I did for myself.
No wonder I felt so disillusioned. No wonder I felt that it wasn't paying off. At the root of it all was a lack of concern about each individual. I didn't really care what becomes of them, so long as I myself lived a life of no regrets.
But that in fact, is the biggest, immutable regret till this date.

See, the lack of love, of genuine interest in the individuals sabotaged every good thing. It was the point of everything, but without it...
Sometimes I catch myself looking at those people and thinking... well, these guys are just for awhile, shouldn't get too embroiled in their issues. Before I know it, I was aiming for the end, for the day when we have nothing to do with each other.

Perhaps hence the pain. A recurring theme in my life. A corruption creeping into my new shot in life. I set myself up for it, I turn disillusioned, my actions appear more costly, I become discontented, I withdraw, I give up... not knowing I gave up before I even tried.

What if this is simply me? It doesn't take long for anyone to realise that my stubbornness does utterly permeate me. I may not even change. I think of the people who eventually went along with me and accompanied me for many years.. I shudder at the thoughts I have about them. My cynicism, a dividing void, can sometimes prevent me from entering into the enjoyment.

I finally understand why it's no surprise.

Flashpoint

The anticipated day finally shows its face.
I had my first written assignment returned to me. At long last.

A wake up call really, as I recounted the thought processes which led up to the work of disaster (well, I was last in class I believe). The thoughts, open or closed. Relevant or insidious.. I recalled them all as my eyes traced the words.
Then my brutal honestly turned upon me.

Strictly speaking, I was already receiving results which by no means condemned the essay deservingly.
As my fingers traced the prose they trembled slightly.

I must be mad, I thought. These were all things i fancied saying, not what was really relevant.
Then I drew additional lines from the result I've been receiving for the philosophy assignments.
It's undeniable. The whole journey was fraught with arrogance and immaturity.

Arrogance because there were things I wanted to say, brilliant ideas I wanted to propose. Immature because I went on with them anyway.

It's not that I'm stupid, incompetent or anything. It's really an attitude problem.

Things are about to get rough, I hope.










The happy nonchalant days are passing. These weeks were fraught with days which were like a slap on the face. But after each one the task of appearing unfazed.
Because that's what everyone else does.
Funny thing is, I'm poised to get more of those slaps, you'll say.

damn it! what's with the mysterious sense of discontentment?

mortality, finitude.

Now I know that they think differently.

My realisation and displeasure of my finitude.. is something I must come to terms with, the only thing which needs and can be done.

hey, have you not heard? Our eyes were fashioned finite to understand His glory.

Let it be

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- if anything excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me- put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.

Let it be dear Lord, let these be.

I will do good to them. I will consider my own actions. Help me to rejoice.
Be my song, guard my mind.

closed doors.

Another door has closed in my face.

I had to do it.
I had to push you to see how far I could get you.

Of course it's really unfair to say that I was really being me.
No, I don't think I've achieved enough permeance to remain sane while being so serious.

But it's something I've set out to work towards...
It feels like a... pretty lonely journey ahead.
I'll reach there someday.
I'll become someone you will not accept.
And I don't expect many to either.

captivating

With that, the whole morning is spent. 

Can the internet really have that much to offer me?

I woke up this morning with plans. Plans to flip open that sociology textbook and get over the ambiguity which has been bugging me. I also had plans to hit the book on the reformation era..

and those sneaky philosophical considerations...

Oh but well. It started off with a good intentioned checking up on the printer I'm going to get, of course, it's the first step towards studying I'd say.

I'd say. 

But here we are. A few youtube videos and brief bumming on facebook.. and here I am. Unaccomplished. 

It's bugging me a little in this very specific instance. I dare not say it genuinely bugs me.

If it did I'll be doing something about it (now this is philosophical. There's a philosophy about human action hidden beneath this, damn the sensitivity. I don't even know if you are good for me.)

But man.. I want a high gpa, and I want to squeeze into dean's list.

I want. But I also don't know for what. 

come on now these idle hours
the least you can do is sleep a little earlier.

what really matters

Someone posted this question to me on Facebook:
How's uni?

Interesting question because I have a complex answer to offer. I simply cannot decide if it is good or bad.
Anyway, if you asked me I'd say I've been bungling along, being incredibly tardy with my work. I've been turning up for lectures without printing the handouts, reaching tutorials without completing readings. Coping spontaneously, every lesson's a scare to me.

At this juncture some will start assuming that I'm struggling with school. They'll try some words of encouragement.. usually by telling me that university's like such or.. that there's still time to change.

Yeah, but you see, my bungling along has not prevented me from coping better than most of my peers.
I'm doing okay in University, short os saying I'm doing well so far. But I still agree, there's time and need to change.

I shouldn't be changing because I'm not coping. I am coping. It just bugs me that... I'm living in a manner unworthy of my calling as a MOE scholar (secular reason of course), or simply as a student privileged enough to make it into a university in Singapore.
I want to start living worthy. I want to watch less youtube videos and squander less of my time sitting idle before facebook. I want to read and enjoy reading. I want opinions and I want articulation. If possible I even want to grow to love sociology (because that shit is so bad right now).

I'm moving along in a tardy fashion but I'm coping.
But that doesn't matter.

why the heart breaks

Again and again, yet it hasn't happened enough for me to observe the reason.
Why does my heart break, for whom does it break?
Because of love? For, to love at all is to be vulnerable.
For the love of who? Myself? You?

Was it simply misplaced hopes? A disillusion on my part.
A grief because I lost a thing I was never meant to expect?
Or maybe it's yours. Maybe you expect too much.
Maybe I'm not that brilliant after all. Maybe I'm not that superhuman.
Maybe you should've commemorated my lack of sleep or my illnesses.
Maybe you lost something you should never have expected from me.

Why is this my business? Why does the heart break?

Why is hurt so profoundly expressed in the chest and hope so blatantly obscured.
And why does one radically recover as though none has happened at all.
Do I embrace the restoration of my smile or shall i permit the scars.

but you are too dangerous for me

strangely troubled.

When I woke up and found that she left, I felt this unease welling in my chest.

I felt like I had some explaining to do. 

But why do I even need to explain anything?

I'm just. that. imperfect.

Sorry you didn't know. 

Sorry I made things look the other way.

Gosh, I just can't get over this. Maybe.. 

plea

I think I've been immensely fortunate so far in university.
I just have 1 plea
That I may remember and thank God for these.

pivot point

Am I getting along well in university? Yes may not necessarily be a wrong answer.

I think, by most standards, I'm rolling along well. I have a demanding module, but even that's okay.
Most unsettling of all will be CCA. I see 3 out of 4 nights occupied by frisbee and cf.
And what about church commitments? I don't even want to imagine. This sunday's lesson's in some sort of jeopardy. I'm very very very worried about it because I can't seem to sit down and get down with it.

argh you know what, less talk more action. Havent even had lunch, meal and sleeping times are slightly odd these days.

I find it hard to imagine these peaceful days to be secretly a pivot point. It is the first week after all. It is the first week whereby the steps I make will be traced forever.
Nah, maybe only.

I gotta buck up. I'm still slacking away. There's time. Just gotta talk less.

Approval

No sharksfin, no champagne no retarded cakes.
couple led worship

God is great, God is good
Lord we thank you for the food


all is well and radical enough
i approve.

apprehension

I finally got to sleep (sorta sleep) in Utown yesterday.
A partly ghastly experience it was.

My first encounter when I stepped in was an unlocked main door (damn it you security breach!)
Further probing led me to an unsightly dirty toilet seat.
How long has it been since check-in? Forgot? It's been 3 days and the seat got pissed on, and had shit stains further down.

Well done actually. Well done.
The lack of hygiene pisses me off at times. 1 year more to live with a mysterious someone who lacked the morals to do the right thing and lacked the sense to perform it logically (if he was really morally depraved). Who would piss on a toilet seat and jeopardise his own future with the toilet should he revisit it?

Next was the dust. There's some unsettled dust in my room and I can't seem to figure where it's coming from. I'd hazard a guess that it's floating over from the construction nearby. The dust is getting into me. It's making me feverish and keeping me awake. Prolonged exposure to such dust? I don't want to imagine!

However, the dining is first class experience. I can't say it enough. It looks and feels like a restaurant and it is crammed with friendly staff. I've yet to try the dinner, but today's breakfast was okay. Every meal sees a menu hailing from different races, each perhaps attempting to suit some demanding tastebuds.

All in all, the overall experience can yet to be concluded. While I feel a little apprehensive, I know what my friends will have me hear...
I'm fortunate
Stay positive
Make the best of it.

Go.

Loss.

I think I found her.
I think I finally did!
Someone who hits all 3 criteria!

But... even so... despite that...
nevermind.

into your hands
I commit again
with all I am
For you, Lord.

You hold my world,
In the palm of Your hand
And I am Yours, Forever.

awaken

I for one, am someone who cant escape the idea that the lives of strangers don't count as much.
That changed today.

As I sat in the hall and watched the slides of photos pass along with the beats of the song, those smiles... I couldn't shake them off.
For the first time since I've met these scholars... I felt for the first time that I interacted with humans, real, compelling, precious humans.

A feeling welled up in my heart. These smiles, they are precious. The moment I saw them I felt their worth.
Happiness.. comes perhaps once too often. They became as worthless a Gold in a golden world.
But at that moment, with its value acutely felt, I uttered a silent prayer.

My God, how great you are.
Who else but a God of love writes these beautiful stories and portray them on beautiful faces.
Who writes the smiles in all the places

I can feel with what love you impute value to us, that you should be concerned about the smiles we live and forget.

It's crazy. I'm mind blown. I stand in awe and I hope it sticks and changes me.

evolution

Waking up at night for a drink of water, I chanced upon a cockroach scurrying across the kitchen floor.

I attempted the skirt around that little fella and slip into the toilet.

However, this is where they do the very thing which makes them downright roaches.

It ran towards me.

A mix of emotions welled up within me.

Fear of course, just imagining the feelers hitting my toes sends chills up my spine.

But more than that, it was frustration. "how can you be so stupid as to run TOWARDS me?" 

But within the frustration, I saw some light.

The chances of a cockroach surviving can possibly be higher if it throws itself in a seeming kamikaze towards the human antagonist. 

You didn't exist so long for nothing. For that I respect you.

but... *squish*. Better luck next time. Your million year lesson ended in my moment of bravery.

Humans adapt too, you cocky scum. 

natural

yeah, yeah, because it's part of our nature right?

So we should just be natural right?

Look, what if our nature is shit?

extra inappropriate.

Thieving is of course, despicable.

This one feels worse.

I was making my way to the bus stop one sunday morning. As I walked, I noticed a freshly set-up wake at the void deck of my house. Someone's passed away recently, then again, many people are starting to pass away given our ageing population.
As I walked on, I saw these boxes of sauces. Soya sauce, oyster sauce... and realised that I was at the kitchen area of the wake. More than that, I can imagine they were expecting a large crowd given the sheer number of boxes there.

Just then, I saw this man inspecting the boxes... He picks a bottle up and looks at it intently and then.. he betrays himself. He looks around nervously before tucking it under his arm and walking to the lift.
Seen this man before. He's always giving that mentally ill smile.
As he walks pass me, he realizes that he was being watched. Defiantly, he raises his eyes to meet mine seemingly challenging me to take him down.

He passes and reaches the lift, he presses the button repeatedly.

Who in the world steals from the funeral? There are many reasons not to.
First, stealing is wrong. So it doesnt matter, a funeral or birthday party both have reasons for you not to.
Secondly, pity? Pity the people who lost a loved one and attempt to the best of your capacity to refrain from causing them more loss?
Thirdly, you can be superstitious and imagine what the spirit of the decease will do if it can do something. I'd make sure that guy never sleeps well again.


Stealing is wrong, and here, extra inappropriate. 


But most of all... me. The one who watched, who had the power, who did nothing but to cower.
That was really wrong of you and me. 

more

Had a little conversation with my mum today, the few rare moments we agree about something.

She was talking about apology, maybe she was hinting that I should apologize to her about something. Something, maybe, not sure, but definitely exist. I offend my mum in innumerable ways.

But anyway, she says that some people apologize by their actions but never get down to saying the words.
My senses tingled, I sensed an irony.

What's the Irony? I think, these moments are when it's the words, not the actions, which count.
Basically, my theory is that these guys, these non-vocal apologies stem from both a perception that it is somewhat embarrassing to do so and hence not above their pride.

see, apologizing with actions very insidiously sneaks it's way into forming an impression of nice guy.
Look, he's doing this and that, he's being understanding and that. You shouldn't think that way of him, etc.
Maybe it's not even much of an apology after all. Maybe it is.

But all in all, there's still a stubborn reluctance to spell out the apology. What's this? Abstract art? A game of charades?
The vocal apology therefore must be hindered by some form of pride...
Unless that person puts down that pride, the apology will always be lacking.

Because there is no pride to speak of when you've done someone wrong.


So here, I replied.
I guess in these cases the very thing we are unwilling to do is the very thing we must do.

Imperfect.

in the end, everyone's imperfect.
it's just how bold you want to live on

hang in there buddy. Things can get better.
hang in there buddy, things will then be better.

dysfunctional

but honestly, who knows? I may be dysfunctional after all.

Especially when these days i feel like a complete idiot
squandering my time away.
Like this ignorant foolish drunkard who wastes his time away.

I'm given much, and endowed with much.
I have time, and I can see that they're all possible.

What am I doing? Why am I so far from my calling?
Is there something
wrong with me?

technology

It was church anniversary as of 20mins ago.
Service was a little different today, with more songs and a speaker of the foreign (english) tongue.

There were the usual flashbacks you know, photos woven into a powerpoint presentation...
these photos sparked a train of thought in my mind.

I was thinking, you know, the cliche idea that technology has made the world fast paced and our memories... fleeting. The fast paced world has subjected us to torrents of events and our subsequent struggle to cope has seen us losing grip on our memories... So that, is the ill of technology.

On the other hand, these old photographs have a second shot at immortality (ever since their weak, physical self gave way to yellowing or succumbed to some form of misfortune or another) in their converted, digital selves. The proliferation of image capturing technology (as it tagged along the proliferation of handphones) has enabled fickle human beings to retain their hold on the memories...

somehow, in one perverse manner, our failing minds has made given recollection a new flavour.
There is so much more surprise or amazement these days. "did I actually do that?" is the new thought we entertain.
All in all it's hard to say... because God has graciously planted the deciding factor in us. Ultimately, our respective attitudes towards the value of remembrance will decide the impact technology has.
Which side are you on?
It matters because this is more than a matter of sides.

you... are but human

Richard Parker, Ben Parker... good guys who died doing what was right.
Good guys die doing what is right when other guys endowed from the job don't perform them.

I think that's the key lesson from the first half of "the amazing spider-man".

I gotta think about my lot.


Meanwhile, you've shown yourself to be but a human.
Close inspection reveals you to be very, very vulnerable. And fickle maybe.
This is going to be fun. At least I know now that I'm interacting with one.

There's no point getting angry

now that i already have

enslaved by the sunshine

The face which launched a thousand boats.

Your radiance which captured my heart. Why should such light become chains of darkness for me?

If we take a glance at the glorious sun
But our mortality forgotten
Fixated eyes will be the death of us.

Rather throw a glance or two
Spare your soul from overdo'
As much as she is beautiful
she is more than just for you.

Yet neither is this sun for me.

If life is a song

If I see life as a song,

I must be the singer of the song.

A singer, actively sight reading the very notes on God's manuscript.

The essence of life will be how well I am able to read those notes...

how well I can perceive the will of God.

While I'm a bad singer, I'm not fearful

for a good song remains a good song

My dream is to cease singing someday

And become the song itself...

The exact man I was written to be.

the lingering feeling

Sometimes, I want to just tell you...
How you've consistently trampled over my ideas
only to turn around and adopt them.

And you don't realize, it seems you don't care.
When you frown (as far as I can guess it out) and say it's okay...
The emotion unexplainable.

It's not okay. I know it isn't.
And I don't get why I'm dismissed- It's as though you don't trust me with the solution.
Then I wonder if it's all just because you're desperate and I'm convenient...
because the things you accuse me to be... you're becoming all of them.

I didn't walk out of that to get this.
Shall I say these to you.. or do I wait for the next gentle sunset..
To wait until something merry comes along.. to refill my hopes about you.

To promise me you can, if even you cannot...
To tell me I've done something in my time.

anger

Do you get angry at your friends? Honestly, I can't recall a time when I was angry with a friend for more than... an hour.
Or maybe I've so deviously relegated people who piss me off often into the group I call acquaintances.

Sigh, so what do you do when your friend gets mad at you? Sometimes I really don't think I'm in the wrong and the whole habit of appeasement seems to be getting on my nerves.
Why do I not reserve the right to flare up and throw threats? Is it because I'm aware of the consequences which can follow? That's not a very good reason either is it, since... It feels like I'm staving the harsh words for my own benefit... and not in their interest.

Sigh, what's this? Who bothers to think about these things? I don't know. But my walk in life tells me that thinking in this manner keeps me most human- other people don't need it, they feel compelling enough without it.
Or maybe they do think about it, but never thought aloud. It calls to mind something my friend once said.
She chided me for robbing the meaning in certain things when I went and spelled them out. Maybe I shouldn't think aloud so much... maybe the unease bottled thoughts bring are but a signal of the mark of approval.. that I'm fighting and resisting this wretched soul with its wicked intentions... that I am actually doing the right thing for once.

I don't know, I don't want to congratulate myself or anything.
Let me say this once and let me say this well:
let me say it once and say it well.

Don't waste it.

The tragic thing about this world is that we're so rarely right and yet when we are, we mess it up in a moment of over-passion...
Like this uncle in NTUC just now. There was a lady ahead in the queue and she was the usual time waster. First she was getting picky over some free gift.. and then later she was accusing the cashier for not returning her NETS card.
While everything happened, this guy in front of me made all sorts of expressions of annoyance. As the lady left, he let loose an outburst "tsk, what the hell!"
He went on ranting about how he saw her daughter keep the NETS card and that she should have apologized for accusing the cashier and holding everyone back.
Yeah sure, it all made sense. But he wasted it all with his outbursts of anger. It becomes apparent that this guy simply could not tolerate the lady's face or something, exposing himself when he added
"i cannot see the reason why her face was so long, it was so long you know?"

I know man, most of the time we're personally offended but we want to mask it with all sorts of righteous reasons.
It's also good to note that we're usually offended because we're prideful.

That fever

Just had the most fun OBS so far. It's quite reassuring because at least it shows that with good company, the thing can be both daunting and fun at the same time.
Also grateful about how I only completely collapsed after I reached home (the bus/mrt ride was perhaps more gruelling than the obs experience)..
But this fever is hitting my head hard. I feel like I'm in this semi sane mode. Like I'll be really prone to saying something I'll regret.

Reliance.

On the way home I had an urge for kind words. You know, going back home and asking my friends what they can offer for someone needing a little encouragement. But really, I don't know why I even need that.
Encouragements, really? I think it's attention I'm after. What a recurring theme!

On a side note, it's been really busy lol. I'm making things worse by trying to stifle that feeling. It's like taking drugs you know? They call it coping, not addiction.
But damn it! I don't want things to be like this! I want time to sort myself out after the busying is over. I'm looking forward to the showcase, yes, but I'm desiring the evening so much more.
I really want the evening to come. I really want to see it all.

But tomorrow's a double hurdle. And slowly I wonder..
Am I wrong to desire the aftermath? I sincerely do not know.

What's in my bag.

The pilgrim's poem has this segment in which the pilgrims lay down their most desired possession. 

I gotta think of something.. since I can't put you in it. 

Representative or misdirectional? Misdirectional will be the true step in putting you down. 

nearly too much

In a minor disarray. Too many things to complete in a short short time.
First, Sunday lesson plan. Next, pilgrim's poem. Next, scholarship acceptance.
Next, direct major admission. Next, Steps personalized publicity... what else?

Keep it together, Oh dear Lord, don't let these blessings become a curse for me.

brave

It's about growing up you know, being true to your desires.. and distastes.
Be brave and stand alone. Erin's right, all I want is attention, I stay only because I'm afraid.

It's time to be true.

Open doors, closed Doors

L-EMS. well done. I'd give myself a pat on the shoulder if.. oh yes i can reach it actually.

But still, today's one of those.. one door opens, another closes day.
As much as I feel happy, I'm weighed down by a few things.

First, my emotional circumstance with which I approached the entire scholarship thing, was definitely less than God pleasing. It's pride. Why EMS. I said it all to you... It's like how I wished I had A+ for my PW.
It's all about distinction. I don't want to get the same as everybody else.

And then there's you, and that undeniable wall to scale. The thing is, as time ticks, I doubt. I really doubt if anything's going to make a difference. I don't think I should care anymore. Sleepless nights are an everlasting testament to how wrong this has gone.
But thanks be to God, for you. You're amazing in the extent you hold back.
You're so amazing. And because you are... we have a way back.

I guess, silently, this has to go. Some day in my intended silence you may miss me. But even those days will fade away. Everything can go if we let them... for... Only we are immortal.
Someday as I take it on, I'll miss you and the silence will shred my heart.
But when the pain fades they may not leave scars.
And in that spring, we shall meet again. Empty handed, carefree...
A day when your smile and laughter
Descends gently upon the pond in my heart.

Softly landing, without rippling.

Whack-a-mole

It's hard to describe. I feel myself being assaulted by countless phantoms.
Each one threatening to take over.
Along with my headache it sounds in unison, a nerve wrecking spine chilling scream.
I know what I'll become if I were to just relax a muscle.

I don't know why this is happening and yet I do.

This sunday's all about having the right emotions. Onboard now... there are none.

It's okay losing what you never had.

This Scholarship Thing

Went for the briefing today. Kinda fun there. Not the exciting kind of fun, but the excited sort.
But here comes the stress moment... what OBS, what compulsory hall, what apply your own tuition grant.. all without even telling me what scheme I'm under now!
There's O week and blah blah.

Ah sigh, university? You're just too exciting for me.
It's so exciting you rob the excitement from me.
Here's what I picture.
Me starting school, making a few delightful, silent friends.
Getting my work done, contemplating the future, doing everything I'm already doing now, getting a girlfriend (not necessarily from university la, you know)

But oh now you're just full of shit. All the dirty orientations and unnecessary demands you desire to self-justify.
The current tightness in schedule isn't helping either. It's funny. When did I become so withdrawn?

Before the moment..

I was helping out at this day care centre yesterday. Nope, this is not some reflection about the worth of daycare centers.. already done that, for official purposes.
This is nevertheless a reflection.

We were allocated about 3-4 rascals each. Real rascals they were. I still kind of remember their names.
There was this cute, but hyper little girl called bernecia. Following, there's a mixed blood girl called deena. Finally there's this boy called Li Heng.
All 3 of them were... ages 10 and below and I had an extremely tough time controlling them.
Anyways, our task was to create this brochure outlining the activities they enjoyed over the course of their holidays. Coming up with the list of activities was tough in itself, sourcing for pictures, newspaper cuttings and coming up with drawings to represent the activities were even tougher. That, plus the occasional squabbles to quell... and an obnoxious primary 6 to handle... made a hell of a job.

But though the start was shaky.. and bordered on getting me pissed off, we finally rolled into pace. The members, though so varied in age, began to agree on things and finally there was more fun than excruciation. But something hung at the back of my mind. It was some kind of... regret.
I regret that we were only getting along towards the end of the task... with little time left to enjoy the teamwork. I wondered if adults grow to become immune to such folly.

I don't think so.
At least, it isn't so with me.

With you, it has always been like this. It's the anticipation which builds expectations which often ends up in some degree of disappointment... and it's not very enjoyable until I come to my senses, which... i often take so long.
Then for the final fleeting hours I find what I was truly looking for. But the regret arrests me and I could not enjoy more.
If there's ever a reason I'd want to think less... It's so I avoid becoming my own prisoner.
I don't know why I've yet to hear from you... shall I think less about this too?

army dumpling

"you must live... and so, eat to live" 

How can I actually be saying such a thing to myself in the very presence of a lovely dumpling?

Oh how far have you fallen and not know?

Breaking Point

That's it, I believe I've let myself fall far enough. Here it is, it's time to stop. It's time to relax and let go.
I do hope for something more sustainable while I'm waiting... instead of getting repeatedly involved in this cycle...
Anyway, have I ever mentioned how I feel my life is this huge parody?
How shall I be playing Jesus/God in the lover's discourse? I feel I'm incredibly far from that.
I'm the kind of guy who's always with the wrong partner. I'm not the heroic guy who restores the lives of people by being with them. I'm none of that.
In fact, deep in my mind, I've always wanted to write a song to capture this tension... An optimistic song for once. Of how I sought for love outside, and how God's love (eventually) captures my imagination and me.
But oops, i don't really have song writing skills at my disposal. Though I'm certain that when the day of captivity comes, I will write it, I will write it because it'll be my testimony.

mounting pressure

Lazy afternoons passing by, leaving many bulging veins.

Each fruitless 24 makes me immensely restless.

Reckless interviews, missing of you

I can feel it eating, eating at me too.

Everyone once in awhile, the gears run dry

I feel the pressure cranking, I rarely know why

What do I really want? 

I hope I'm not driving you to yet another corner.

Come back, gotta chill. 

Criteria for happiness

I barely recall going through an essay with my kids awhile ago. It was on the standard of living and how technological advancements have affected it. There was this happy idea that technology was creating dependency and this dependency somewhat reduces our standard of living.
In trying to reason it all out, I suggested that maybe, the whole idea of dependency was about having multiple criteria to our happiness. So i asked them "is a happiness which is less contingent better?" unanimously, "yes" There we have it, I concluded, it's about technology, through our cellphones, internet and such, imposing criteria upon our lives. Imposing. wow. These criteria forcibly made our happiness more fragile than ever, and subsequently, even if we can recall happy times, we have somehow forsaken a superior standard of living.
With you, it is as such. I can recall, if I want, the happy times we're spending together. Sometimes I even feel as though life has taken a pleasant turn. But deep down within me, as every second passed without you, my heart falters and almost tastes the loneliness of damnation. And I recall the harsh reality underlying our every interaction. If you don't, all these will be for naught.
 But I cannot imagine the day, when it comes, where for his sake I've to see you as a friend. Neither can I picture, when it comes, having the rehabilitate myself from you. Neither do I have the faith (be it deserved or undeserved) to picture us together. All the glory I've set for my future, falls like a terrible, tried-too-hard pile of useless scrap before you.
 When I think about it, you, one of my criteria, has made my life a lot more miserable. I may attempt to show otherwise, or to describe my life in another fashion.
I may emphasize the better times but it's only because I fear you'll retreat at the sound of this. I fear you may be thinking that people were only meant to be if they colour each other with bright shades... that if somehow they bring the grey and gloomy skies... they were not meant to be. But for me, a happy life isn't all there is to the standard of living. It's about feeling happy and sad at the ordinate times.
If I am to think that I'm somewhat missing the good life, it is this: That I rarely feel the robustness of Joy in the absence of you. And that to me, is the explanation for how everything is happening.

but slowly surely it seems singlehood may just be the burden for me, the cross to carry.

Sometimes i feel like
either i've been too screwed up
or something.

I dont really have anyone i can reliably count on hearing me out.
It feels crazy.
Why can't i feel the same way about God
what am i really after?
pity, attention or comfort?

I kind of miss ns days. Really. Those were the last of the halcyon days.

the fastest way out is to realise that i'm screwed up.
these happened... Because i haven't grown up.
it's nothing tragic or romantic
it's just foolish.

this should leave nothing to miss.

the exaggerated feeling of lonliness

It's the same feeling as I had in wallaby.
Whenever i took a deep breath, i felt this
straining pain across my chest...
the pain then spills into my hands
incapacitating me.

When I breathe I feel as though
I were groaning in entirety.
But whenever this happens it coincides
with something else within..

And I'm not sure about the nature of
this feeling in my chest
I cannot tell how genuine
All I can is guess

But trust me as I'm holding back
I feel my synapses snap
The battle for my heart and head
Is made worse by my brain.

stay away and you can save me
for if you thought that I could think
think of how we could have been
and how tense it was for me

The only delight I have in this
stems from how right this starts to seem
from here I know I'm heading home
The next we meet 's in reality.

that to me appears so good though,
perhaps too good for me.

A day in the staff room

Teachers quarrel over skills
or crack their heads over the students
waving their hands in overt aggression
and saying the most undeserving opinions.

they sound so mad you think they'd crack
but day after day they come right back

but when i sit and stare,
i cannot help but notice my trust has passed
as i look upon their angry faces and hear the vain words
i can never trust the things they say of their emotions.
they're angry and then not really
they're friendly but oddly scary.

they've done it but have missed it
they're like good teachers who may never make it.

stemming of thoughts makes me nervous.
but you all have proven me wrong at times.
before whose hands ought I surrender?
Sometimes i dont know who i am.

Call me poisoned if you must
I cannot see how life will work without God. I just cant imagine that anymore.