I'm eating ginger. I'm bored. I'm boring right now. One day, when exams are over. I will be exciting all over again. Inside and outside. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. I ate a lot of rice instead. But I have weird cravings. And I don't know what I want. Bubble Tea? I want.. I want.. I seriously don't know what I want.

There are a lot of things I wouldn't mind. Going back to SG, Green Tea cake, Snow Skin mooncake.. but there's nothing i'm craving for like crazy that I want. And it feels weird. Like Johnny Depp with his compass. Mine would be pointing everywhere madly. Unless I lined up everything I wanted in one line and made the line face Singapore. Then the compass would work. Oh, that's suddenly amusing. Everything I want, huh?

But I think this siandedness I'm feeling is very typically pre-exam anyways. It's.. "normal". What's normal! Sigh. And I'm slightly anxious about post exam life. Scratch that, I'm scared. I is needings to see the babes. And Jo. and Dia. and everyone i will really miss out on this time, not going back. It's so foreign not to go back. It's.. awful, actually.

Getting to the end of 3rd year is scary. It means that life will change very soon. It means I am going to have to work.

Honestly, it seems so bleak sometimes because I don't know what I will be doing or where I will be. Will I have to start all over again? I know God has plans, but I don't know anything about them right now.

Marriage is a scary prospect. Like a sour horror movie gone wrong she wakes up screaming in her camisole when the priest in her dream bellows, "I now pronounce you..." Then she realises it is just a dream and her single bed is a safe haven for her poor defensive soul. Miss independent, miss self sufficient, miss keep your distance. She has learnt to live alone for so long that she doesn't understand what it means to share life intimately anymore. Don't mess with her dishwasher schedule. Or stain the chic persian rug in the spotless studio apartment. And she might meet a butt ugly man in a rowdy bar one day, but what good will that do her? She is still heaving from adrenaline- fright from the dream. "No you can't have me", she thinks, "whoever you are. I don't know who you are going to be." And she turns her lonely back on her lonely lamp and pulls her lonely blanket back over her lonely head.

Wednesday. A Wednesday.

Hurhur. Today is the time in which life hangs in a strange balance, glued by some invisible glue. Is it even there?

Rachel is studying company and is struck by the momentary earworm. I have it too! Except that good charlotte, while healthy in the car, does not provide entertainment in the house with a mother who is trying to watch tv. So Sheryl Crow plays itself over and over again.. "All I wanna do is have some fun, I've got a feeling I'm not the only one.. All I wanna do is have some fun, until the sun comes up on the Santa Monica Boulevarde". And on top of that, I'm watching desperate housewives for the second time in my life. I think Bree is going to choke on her champagne. Ooooo. This isn't half bad. Heh heh. Wednesday afternoon trash.

Piggypoo has driving lessons today. In some strange way I'm always reconnecting myself with you just by thinking of what you might be doing and wondering if you are having fun. Exams are round the corner for us all, and I'm constantly peeking over to see if they don't jump out and scare me. BOO!.... AAAAH.

I talked to PC after 10 months! He is after all a very busy man, but I miss that papa of mine. And that reminds me of Spencer and Divinia, who i also miss! (mummy's not working anymore, so no pocket money k. go beg on the streets if you must. When i finish exams I will.. err.. beg with you. And moreover, Aussie currency is stronger. Alternatively, as Grandpa for money ok?)

Face it! Third year is coming to an end. This friday is the last time I will go for class in 2007. WHOO HOO! I've always loved endings more than beginnings. closure. Well maybe not all endings. some are so cringeworthy.

I miss Ger!

I'm super duper random today, but I have little substantial material in my mind to pen down because it's full of uni work. I feel like a boring nerd. creative juice, where are you?!?!?!

What matters? What doesn't? Today feels like a good day for Oscar Wilde.
The wild grouch.
Take me back, to a time...
When Singapore was here.

"Don't Speak"

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel That I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real
Well I don't want to know

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts

Our memories
Well, they can be inviting
But some are altogether
Mighty frightening
As we die, both you and I
With my head in my hands I sit and cry

Don't speak I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don't speak I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts

It's all ending I gotta stop pretending who we are...
You and me I can see us dying...are we?

Don't speak I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don't speak I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't tell me cause it hurts!
I know what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't speak,don't speak, don't speak,
oh I know what you're thinking
And I don't need your reasons
I know you're good, I know you're good,
I know you're real good

Oh, la la la la la la La la la la la la
Don't, Don't, uh-huh Hush, hush darlin' Hush, hush darlin'
Hush, hush don't tell me tell me cause it hurts
Hush, hush darlin' Hush, hush darlin'
Hush, hush don't tell me tell me cause it hurts

Pull Back

Sara. You have no choice. Be a real woman. Fight. Do it right. Play fair. Play for best interests, not for instant gain. And end well.

Steel yourself, your mind, body, heart, against all that is to come.
For tomorrow. For one day all this- too hard, too agonising.
One day it will be over.
I have a strong desire to hurt.
And I have hurt.
The truth hurts.
I cannot deal with this pain anymore.
I want out.
That's when the knife draws blood.
And I stand there watching it flow,
feeling bad for what I've done,
but clinging to that piece of harm I've done,
because it makes me feel more inhuman
when human is too hard to be.
At someone else's cost.
True iniquity- i am that human.
To take the pain i've caused another,
and alienate myself.

I never realised I could be so awful.

my own lovely twistedness.

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. Ps. 4:8.

Rachel is right about dance floor anthem.

Put up your hands people.

Long day in church. melodies running in my head and food in my stomach. Voice is crackly, not smooth or properly warmed.

Sad.

=(

Uncertain.

=

I will survive.

=)

I wrote a song today. almost instantaneously. This means something. 1. that I am stressed. 2. that I am emotionalful. That's not even a word. I don't feel that emo. This unsad-sadness is so full of endorphins. I don't understand it. But Mmmm. It's ok. I think things are working out. And more songs cannot be a bad thing.

Dance.

When things are stressful, mundane, emotional, uncontrollable, melancholic, stoic, boring, painful, joyous, miraculous, heightened, frightening, purposeless, caustic, bold, beckoning, repulsive... When everything just is. Dance has been my outlet.

I thank the Lord so much for that. He's given me a way to let go. Right now, when emotionally I'm wrought to let everything out, speech and thought is painful, and dance is just.. freeing. Like Piano, but the words interfere there.

Strangely, it's also revealing, and vulnerable. But.. I don't mind it as much. How do you interpret movement as opposed to words? It's not so telling, right? Convey convey. I just want to throw myself into movement. deliberate, painful, actioned.

The performance is over. It was good. The Lord will have His way, the Lord has had His way.

Father, get me past this part of life. When things converge, when people part, when life crashes and implodes in a neutral way that will bring your change.. I'm most afraid of becoming medial, lukewarm, mundane, stoic, boring. I need your magic. I want You. When I'm tired of reaching, push me to find you. Then find me. Please find me.

I've gone mad. Just absolutely mad.

Life is so strange. I was watching tv this morning and 9 news was on, live from California where the big fire storm is. And the little logo was "9Live". And i read it as 'alive'. And I thought. Yes, yes! I'm alive. I'm alive! But so many people are dead. In so many ways. In some ways, I feel dead too. But in so many other ways, I'm so alive. (Celine Dion's playing in my head- you can guess which song! )

God is good. Head hurts and all. I'm annoyed at it's persistance. Cos i hate not feeling well.. But.. mmm. Since the scans showed nothing.. I'll just leave it be.. I feel bad for people worrying. But the different real time scenerios in the different locations pieced together made me laugh because I realised that people care. If it were a bunch of other people, I don't think they would care. It's not like I've even earned the right for them to care, they just do so out of the goodness of their hearts. which is really heartwarming.

I wish I was home tonight to catch rachel, she would be so "reactioned" over the events past. Like laughing and WHATTTT-ing and huh-ing and uh-huh-ing. I saw pigpig online just, so that was good. =) hehehee.

Okae okae, I've gotten questions from Therapy Focus for the exam. SO SO IN TROUBLE. I'm going to the shops first, and study later. poopoo.

Some things in life are terrible tradgedies. Sometimes, uninhibited people, after being unscared all at once, don't see that. They just go into hysterics and laugh like there is no tomorrow. Even at someone else's expense. and at someone else's fright. Which is terrible. But then, who knew? The results of one night's awful scare can actually be very heartwarming. So you're not as stoic as i thought. ROFL ROFL ROFL.

Thank the Lord for His protection. And I'm sorry I scared everyone. I feel really really bad about that. Really really really really really bad.

The people came. They came out of the cul-de-sacs and office complexes of their day. They brought him the burdens of their existence, and he gave them not religion, not doctrine, not systems, but rest.

Max Lucado

It's crisis week. I'm freagging out. I am meant to study and all I can do is sleep. I want to talk to Rachel! Loony is bored. He is SO bored. He is so bored he asked to me about "cosplaying". Which mean he is REALLY bored. (cos usually he would ask Rachel). (Or maybe he already did, and he was SOOOO bored he had to ask more people!)

I'm quite frustrated. I want to study, and I'm not getting very far. I'm really quite peeved about it. Because you know how to push my buttons: just make sure I'm academically at a cliff edge. Yes, very nerd-like, I'll admit. But then, THE EXAM IS ON FRIDAY. I know it's pass fail, but still!

I told God I would surrender my studies. Is this part of giving in to Him too? It must be.
It must be. Don't get upset. Don't panic. Just. Try.

ARGH. CARTs asked Him to test us. And He is testing us. okok. i trust u, ok? I will be patient. With myself. With my work. With my groupmate. WITH MY GROUPMATE!?!?!? Ok, yes. I will be patient with my groupmate.

I can't believe the socially cliched nerd stereotype fits me. owell, all the better for my lecturers then.

Why don't part-tea animals that study like crazy exist?
Can i take a course and be one too?

I'm tired of doing nothing but sleep all day.

Let's party.

ok very good. This should all go away very soon. =)

I came home restless and fidgety. Dysphagia exam is soon. Prof. issues remains in bits. It will all come together! It always does. Just.... studyyyyyyy.

Dear God, help me find rest in you.

I'm a little worried. The left side of my head is swelling. And I can sense the pressure. It makes me sleepy. I've already slept 4 hours and it still hurts. My vision is strained. Maxilla upwards is tender as. These are the more minor signs of a concussion? I don't knowwwwwwwwwwww.

Surrender to the magic of simplicity

I did the same thing as Rachel. I woke up on time and decided to leave for the lecture late. Can you imagine how unmotivated I must have been? Yes, I was 7 minutes late as well. But it's all good. She finished up last week's lecture and started on ethics. It was so interesting!

Speech Pathologists cut a little too close to eugenics still, for my liking. But then, so does everyone. They just don't get the chance to exercise the right, is all. And prostitution. I don't think it's warranted to receive services just because people are mentally and physically disabled! In a developmental setting, client autonomy is not established- cannot be established. And thus being the case, what right does any caregiver have to expose them to STDs and well as other forms of morally questionable things? Just because he has "needs" doesn't mean he knows what they are, or that you need to give in to him because he is an invalid. Nothing unvalidates an already invalid person like that.

The quality of death of a person is another thing to look at as well. Which is rather neglected.
I am feeling peckish. Very very peckish. But I don't know for what. I don't have the time or money to be peckish. I am really truly broke for the month- I have $2 in my wallet and that is IT.

Anaphylaxis. It was the word I was searching for on Saturday last. It is a highly relevant word even now. Anaphylactic shock. be careful. of allergens. In whatever form they come. Especially you, Sarah Wong!

Party like there's no tomorrow.
No- I'm too tired for that.
But maybe I'll turn on my imagination and the right kind of music.

And then Cinderella may emerge,
and all the stress will seep out like melted cheese.
Her occasional relief stance.

Dance.
Like there really is no tomorrow.

Frustration.
Like there is no tomorrow.

Beauty.
Like there is no tomorrow.

Fatigue.
Like there is no tomorrow.

Emotion.
Like there is no tomorrow.

"Fragile"- Sting

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are

Lady Laugh-a-lot

Odear. Today has been a day of side splitting laughing. Plus green button cuteness.

I took M to the photocopy machine today while doing assessments and "i lubb greean" came up as usual. So I showed him the green photocopier button and he watched as I worked it, fascinated out of his small little brain and googly eyes. He is just cute. He stared flabberghasted as the papers reeled out by the tens and couldn't believe his ears when I let him press the green copier button. "it's greeean" and he used the purple pirate to press the button. The papers reeled. M stared. And a tiny finger reached out to touch the freshly printed sheets. "It's.. hoooot!" We collected my papers and walked back to class, hand in hand. Can i bring him home please? He's just so full of wide eyed wonder. I need to remember to be filled with wide eyed wonder. He would help me remember. Small fingers, big eyes. And always willing, always smiling. I want to be like that.

The side splitting started in a lecture. You should never go to other people's lectures. You will never be able to take the unit seriously enough to listen as a sombre student should, inspite of idiosyncrasies. In this case, however, the reaction was much worse than expected. D had already warned me that the lecturer was a heavily accented Japanese man. I walked in thinking, "I've met japanese people. should be fine." I nearly backed out of going to the lecture in the first place because I thought it would be SO obvious that I was a random. But I went anyway. And in the first 15 seconds I was gripped with involuntary convulsions that I tried very hard to stop so that I wouldn't be noticed! He was talking about 'conflict' and it ended up sounding like 'cornflake'. And the rest of his speech is easy to tune out because it doesn't register straight away. So all i heard was 'cornflake cornflake'. and this seriously, for some unknown reason, cracked me up like nothing else la. I wanted to burst out laughing like no tomorrow. I scribbled on a notepad to D," don't provoke me. If not, I will laugh and then how? He will know i am not meant to be here." Then I turned to pretend to rummage in my bag, all the while convulsing with the need for uncontrollable laughter. When I calmed down enough to return to an upright position, D had written "internal cornflake". HELP ME LA. HELP ME HELP YOU CAN? And I bent back over the side of my chair pretending to have lost nothing. I think people probably thought I was mad. And I JUST COULD NOT STOP WANTING TO LAUGH. Then the lecturer said something like "sauces (sources) of cornflake". By that time, I was sober enough to remain upright and deadpan. BUT I SO WANTED TO LAUGH CAN!

My papa is super cute.

Today after dinner he said he wanted to eat cheese. So he went to get 4 thick slices of cheddar.
mom: SO MUCH?
dad: not a lot what.
Me: uhuhuh i want. (I take one, mum takes one, leaving him with 2/4 of the original)
Mum: Must tax you la.
Me: The tax is worse than Australian Govt tax can? 50% lei.
Dad: Yalor
Mum: It's for your own good ok.
Dad: That's what Howard would tell me too. *sulks*
ROFL!!!!!!!

The other incident was the dancing one. I asked my parents to learn the swing steps.

Dad: I have two right feet
Me: Two right feet don't make a wrong.
Dad: I have two left feet la.
*mum walks away to throw something away*
Dad: See, she left me.
Dad: Now i am left behind.
Mum: Haiya! don't be a rascal.
Dad: *farts*
AAAAAAAAH. And you ask me why I like punny witty men????? I've lived with one for 20 years!

SOMEONE IMPOSTERISED ESTAHH FOR A WHILE.
a.k.a. another silly MSN convo for amewsment.

[esT-heR] says:
just look at me
[esT-heR] says:
u know im yummy
[sare] cathartic says:
WHATATTTTT

[esT-heR] says:
u think im gorgeous
[esT-heR] says:
u wanna huuuggg me
[esT-heR] says:
u wanna kisss meee
[sare] cathartic says:
AAAAAAAH

[sare] cathartic says:
who took esther away from me?
[sare] cathartic says:
who aliened her?
[sare] cathartic says:
OMG
WHERE IS ESTHER YOU IMPOSTER


[sare] cathartic says:
LIAR. you tooked her
[sare] cathartic says:
and u raned away
[esT-heR] says:
runs to close de closet
[esT-heR] says:
RANED?!
[esT-heR] says:
hahhaahh!
[sare] cathartic says:
save herrrrr
[sare] cathartic says:
she in de closet!
[sare] cathartic says:
HALP HALP
[sare] cathartic says:
evvybodie! ish esta! She chillipadi-napped
[sare] cathartic says:
by sexy aliens!
[esT-heR] says:
ooo
[esT-heR] says:
as long as i getta be sexy
[esT-heR] says:
i so dun mind lorrr


[sare] cathartic says:
u is saveded from eilian!
[sare] cathartic says:
who save u!
[sare] cathartic says:
hiphip (toetoe) Hurray!
[esT-heR] says:
ya. i ate de alien up.
[esT-heR] says:
hahha!
[esT-heR] says:
it was getting anoying looking like a banana

So all was well in the end. Just a bit burpy after eating that much banana.

What do you do when your wife is shouting at your daughter?

I didn't want to put him in that position either. He seemed so sad. And yes, I don't think I did all I could to stabilize his blood pressure. Ahhhh. Help me. Everything is ok now. Culminating and climaxing in an airy ending that left me dangling in a revelation I felt was 20 years too late.

It feels surreal. something so close to home, something so near that I never realised. Something so so so scary. But strangely cathartic.

I am so calm now. It's strange and weird but I feel protected and loved.

Coming home tonight.

God is speaking. And loud and clear He is.

Many things have happened. In different areas, still the same God He is. Still working wonders, still blowing fresh wind, fresh fire. How good You are.

From both sides.

Sigh. Life could be seen as so crap. Or so good. It really all depends on whether you're standing on your head or not.

I don't mind la. Right now, I'm not fussed about too many things other than exams. See. I've reduced to that. How did that happen? I usually just fuss about heaps of things. Maybe I've come a long way in fussing. Now I'm an elite fusser. I only fuss about priority material.

So much of me, right now. I can't be stuffed. I just can't. And it's bad because next week I'm going back into schools. I am needing to seriously study. What happened to that? I am broke. I don't care. Just don't buy la. U really want, then buy la. Since when have I been this bo chap? It seems that increasingly, nothing matters. The things that matter don't. The wholesome good things in life don't. The small inconsequentials are tended to on whims. And most of all. The only thing I seem to really be game for are Jazz gigs. Happy places. Escape route. I am no longer the child you could pacify with books.

Chemistry. Is a phenomenon that will usually lead to either something amazing, or something amazingly stupid.

Stuff it. Who cares anyway.

It all occured to me in a flash. Maybe it was the alcohol, but that had worn off a long time ago.

Flashes of me. Flashes of future. Flashes of now. I could be anything, absolutely anything I wanted to be if I wanted to. And I only know it now.

Stressed.
But on the other hand, satisfied.
But Stressed.
But Happy.

A strange sort of clanging in the sepia gardens of youth past.

Revisitation

Rest. Flickering light bulbs. Falling, tired, into arms I didn't know of. Daddy, daddy. Rolling over. Oblivious.

Sureal surrender. take me home. I know who I want.

I can has sprinklz?

Today I caught Rachel in lecture. Or rather, she caught me. Then we talked in the most retarded way. It's called cheeztalk. I learnt some new words.

funnai
blindish
concurz (can u imagine saying that in court?!)
singirl (you should be attached, stop singing/sinning)

Then the ridikulus comments started.
[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
can u imagine asking someone to marry u like tt?
[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
"rachel, ummm.. i can has you?"
rachel says:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
rachel says:
no u cant
rachel says: u need to learn proper grammar firs

rachel says:
1z herebai awudd u dah diplowma of Cheeztalk

[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
reahlli?
[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
i can has hot boys?
rachel says:
u cans!
rachel says:
but leaves some for me
rachel says:
like sprinkles
rachel says:
whoom you thinks is colds

[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
i has rachelz, iz happy.
[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
i no throws net
rachel says:
i has saraz, iz happy
rachel says:
i haz sprinkl (far away), iz happy.
rachel says:
if spinkl nearer, iz happier.

[sare] I can has Rachelz? says:
i is sprinkl you with konfatty on yours weddings

OH NOOO. impending bimbotic doom. I don't mind! Come what may. hehe.

I watched as the prune dried old woman with the earphones plugged in carefully walked past. I remembered the clementi man with the radio and thought about how lonely they were, and what good friends they would make because of the music they used to keep themselves from dispair. Wrong place, wrong time.

I cried out to Him for validation, for vindication. He has, in the course of His wise wisdom and wonderful lovingness, answered my prayers. Two nights in a row His move, His wind has been unmistakable, two mornings in a row risen by His gentle spirit, laughing quietly as I blink and awaken. - "He will not let your foot slip- He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep." Ps. 121:2. How valuable, treasured and unexchangeable is this intimacy. Father let me stay you a little longer. Tarry me.

Here is a stand! A bold one. A Needed one.

"I refuse to scheme or plot, manipulate or retaliate. Because the Lord is my provider, and the vengeance is His. I want to trust Him wholeheartedly with all I am, the Lord giveth and taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord!"

I cannot agree more.

Bumper Stickers

I have been bored out of my mind since today is my third, and for now, last day of lecture note taking. So I have been reading America's take on life through the use of expressive bumper stickers, and here are some of the good ones.

I believe in getting in hot water; it keeps you clean.
He who laughs last thinks slowest.
A bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory.
A Waist Is A Terrible Thing To Mind
Alcohol and calculus don't mix. Never drink and derive. (Shite, i'm a secret sucker for the math ones)
All those who believe in psychokinesis raise my hand.
Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
Blessed are they who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused.
Boycott shampoo, demand real poo instead.
Does The Name Pavlov Ring A Bell?
Don't f*** with my head and I won't think with my dick!
Dyslexics of the world, untie!
Grow Your Own Dope, Plant A Man
Help starve a feeding bureaucrat.
It's easier to child-proof your gun than to bullet-proof your child. (so american -_-)
I've lost my phone number - can I have yours? (whoopwhoop, a brand new brainlessness in pickup lines)
Support bacteria! It's the only culture some people have.
You can pick your nose and pick your friends, but you can't wipe your friends on the couch.

OK, feeling over-americaed. Over and out people. There's still 8 pages to go.

The Little Tin Soldier.

Aching, tired, frail. Toes pointed, tutu crinkled. Her dispair was palpable, but not to the other toys. From the height of the paper castle on the mantletop, they only saw her as a flawless, glistening figure. A mandate of sorts, an aphrodite. They waved as they went about their nightly business, and she would twirl in response. But she was only paper. Keenly, this thought provoked her. Too frail, unable to move, easily hurt. She couldn't even cry.

Then there was the jack in the box. He scared her. His hold over her was arbitrary, yet binding. She couldn't move, he could. She wanted out, he didn't. She blanked out very often, thinking of nothing, not wanting to think. And for the longest time, she had survived like this. It was practical. Survival. She spent her time watching, and being watched by a pair of sinister eyes. Days went by, and this gnawing irritation of the self, of the world, of the jack in the box soon became nothing more than a baseline of life. His presence was pervasive. He took from her what she refused to give. He violated her love, he stole from her. She felt dirtied, torn, and completely tainted with a darkness that seemed to seep like sticky tar into her. One day, she thought, it will be a mercury that kills me.

Sing once again with me
Our strange duet
My power over you grows stronger yet
And though you turn from me to glance behind
The Phantom of the Opera is there
Inside your mind

She soon forgot the times before she came into this toyroom, the times of great wonder- eyes bright; discovery imminent.

Her Raoul came in the form of a broken man. Finally, she thought. Someone who understands my pain. The one legged tin soldier was just as poor as she. Although strong in body, he could not move unless moved. So they stood there and stared at each other for a long, long time. He, convinced of his love for her, and she, wondering whether he could love a torn, crinkled paper figurine. The jack in the box, feeling as if he had been sidelined, asserted his springs as much as he could and rattled all his jester's bells. But that is all he was- a fool. A jester. However, as circumstance would have it, the wind changed, and the little tin soldier left with little warning the next day.

She did not understand it. She could not. She faulted herself for being unhappy, for having persisted in something she should not have accepted so easily. So she put aside her hope and concentrated on her pointed toes once again. To her, naught changed, and everything returned once again to square one. To the jack in the box, the beginnings of a rage for attention had just begun.

You have come here,
for one purpose, and one alone
Since the moment I first heard you sing,
I have needed you with me,
to serve me,
to sing,
for my music...

But she did not need him at all. Even from the start. Only murderers have use for pure poison.

It was in the little tin soldier's second appearance that she began to wonder if her pent up hope and her broken self should let themselves go. Will he stay long this time, she wondered? He didn't. More tradgedy, more irony- into the fire he fell, eyes blazing, heart steady.

So she jumped.

The death of the self is never a pleasant journey. Yet, in refinement, there is a freedom, a cutting off from the past unpleasantness, past hopelessness. The unchaining of the soul is subsequent to the death of self. There is to be no partial yielding to the tender of the furnace. For he knows his trade and the refiner's fire will burn true every time.

9 This third I will bring into the fire;
I will refine them like silver
and test them like gold.
They will call on my name
and I will answer them;
I will say, 'They are my people,'
and they will say, 'The LORD is our God.' "
Zechariah 13:9

In gratitude- because I am naught and He is all.

Daddy printed my HSBC bank statement. I just put $100 into my acct. The bank contributed $3.98 to me. -_-".

I want to see what mr. NUM looks like. I wonder if he looks like mr. G2000. Hehehe. Is there also a Mr. body shop and a Mr. Isetan? (Ise Tan. Is he Japanese or Chinese???) Not that Swong will find any of them cute. No man is cute to her. They are.. merely of particular different traits.

Then I was so stoned that I stared at my bank statement and tried to write notes. And I couldn't figure out what it had to do swallowing. Why were the notes so thin ah? Oh. Only one piece.

Then I stoned at the notes I made and tried to write on the lecture notes. -_-"

Swong is talking to me. Her evil plan is to get rid of herself so that I have to facilitate EGg next week. She must not dye/die! NOOOOOO!

I was playing random music. Then my dad came up to me. And he danced. So I danced. We looked really really silly. Mum laughed at us. It was fun.

Ok fine. Back to. WORK!

I'm not going to fall, I'm giving it all, to you.
I'll lay down my sorrows, I'm all yours.

A brickyard in Dhaka, Bangladeshi. This one is for Xiao Tao.

We sit, one beside the other, legs flailing over the badly aligned bricks, just you and I. A dense silence sits between us as realisation dawns and dusk goes about its work. I cannot break this silence, this contentment, and so I wait. In the distance, as the humid musky air starts to prepare for yet another night of silent strife, children call out. They are brown, lanky, and we are yellow, lucid. I can smell the mud in the bricks and in this enclosure, I feel free. My eyes close, and for a moment, everything invades me. The place, the people, and finally, hope. Two more seconds of silence; a crow calls out. The childrens' feet shuffle- it is a melody of methods, of simple mirth derived from simple pleasure. Darkness has no hold on the light it cannot see. The circle of five figures transform into a crooked line, and the group of straggly-haired innocents gradually approach us. The tip tap-tapping of our feet on the wall blend in perfectly with their laughter. I look at you, and your eyes are far, far away. A foolishly courageous ant tries to bypass me, and I flick it. It doesn't like that it's thoroughfare has been interrupted. I tell him, not now, shhh. All at once, the children have climbed on each others shoulders and are teetering dangerously on the thin brick wall. I look at the cracks in the cement, and the uneven icing atop the wall. We suck in at the same time. The youngest boy moves along the wall, miraculously, with a modest, inate skill. He trots, barefoot, his worn khakis crumpled upward as if they are afraid to impede what little freedom he has. Then with little warning, he breaks into a run. You are stunned. Everything, suddenly, seems to depend on this one inconsequential attempt. Everything we've done, everything we try to do, everything we want for these people, this place, these lives. As he leaps, our hands meet and your knuckles are white. The tip tap-tapping stops. Everything in my viscera churns, my heart is too engrossed in watching him to remember to beat. The child lands, his hair falling forward, and he is perched like a cat atop that high, unstable wall. He looks up and sees us just as we reopen the door to real time. Your knuckles relieve my wrist and circulation starts again. He smiles and waves. Mechanically, we wave back. 3 beats. Then it is as if the weight of all your thoughts come crashing down and it is you who breaks the silence. "He made it." There is surprise in your voice, but more than that, there is a relieved sense of hope, quietly, contentedly, burning steadily. The horizon dims, beckoning the end of the day and a cutting kind of cold sweeps past in the wind, but we are unfazed. We leap off the wall and the fall jolts us slightly. We remove as much of the red dust from our clothes as we can. It's time to go back to the house. And anyway, we left the kettle on.

Xiao Tao! I miss you. A lot.

What is NOT. to Nullify what IS.

In quietness and trust is your strength.
In repentance and rest is your salvation.
I am saved, I am being saved, I will be saved.

43 "Go and look toward the sea," he told his servant. And he went up and looked.
"There is nothing there," he said.
Seven times Elijah said, "Go back."
44 The seventh time the servant reported, "A cloud as small as a man's hand is rising from the sea."
So Elijah said, "Go and tell Ahab, 'Hitch up your chariot and go down before the rain stops you.' "
45 Meanwhile, the sky grew black with clouds, the wind rose, a heavy rain came on and Ahab rode off to Jezreel.
46 The power of the LORD came upon Elijah and, tucking his cloak into his belt, he ran ahead of Ahab all the way to Jezreel.

Fresh wind, fresh fire.

Kerith Ravines.

I will forget, if i don't jot this.

i have a right to see me as God sees me.
i have a right to see others as God sees them.
Our perceptions were bought at a price.

And what gets stuck will not stay stuck. But many mortals strive to stay stuck. It's less work to be unstuck, really.

Wheexing

It's in this slow, wheexing death that I will learn what life means. Hopefully before it's all too late.

His extravagance contrasts my inadequacies. I've finally learnt that grateful, not guilty is the correct reaction.