Steer

Feel it falling off like clothing
Taste it rolling on your tongue
See the lights above you glowing
Oh and breathe them deep into your lungs

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been pulling at the strings playing puppeteer for kings
And you've had enough

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

So hold this feeling like a newborn
Of freedom surging through your veins
You have opened up a new door
So bring on the wind, fire and rain

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been played at a game called remembering your name
And you stuffed it up

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

'Cos you've been listening for answers
But the city screams and all your dreams go unheard

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer
Year get out of the box and step into the clear
'Cos now you finally know you can steer

-Missy Higgins

Time is of perspective

I got off unusually (you NUS you all why!) late for a monday, and was dying to get off the train by the time Murdoch came around. After having dinner and watching the usual trash TV, I watered the garden. Strangely, it's now only 9.30 pm. I would normally bemoan the lost time (spent in transit), but today, it seems like I have too much time. Perhaps it is because I am waiting for Dennis to come home. I am such a happy girl, honestly, inspite of all my tiredness. I was entirely wrong about this working life thing. Working rocks.

I don't know how I ever committed to keeping a blog.

Ger's blog post in October last year registered in my head but not in my heart. After my first 4 days at work, the issue has surfaced and I am so relieved someone else is jaded about work and life. I have been having strange dreams of needing to do work things, and feeling such a dread toward them, when they actually take up very little time (e.g. looking on a map). The harsh reality is that the thinker is extinct. While we thrive on information and make it our business, the more you think about something, the longer it takes to get done. While I have wholeheartedly committed to being an Epicurean all these years, I am beginning to think that perhaps it is child's play- and that work makes no excuse for emotion. The shift into existentialism has been forced. Not to mention advocated, probably, by certain important others.

Indo Mee is contagious, like a sickly, hair-falling disease. I have contemplated it all weekend and schemed. I am having some this morning, in hope that my metabolism will get rid of most of it.

Things To Note:

1. Change always Changes

2. Repeat after me: Muscles are sexy. Get more muscle.

3. exercise!

4. eat proper.

5. trust and obey

Don't think, would be the best solution right now.

The ultimate dilemma of always: to drone on, or to "deal" with it. Some people don't believe in dealing with it. To them, life just has to be lived, intellectually or not, in good times or not. I do agree with that, and I do wish I could turn my brain off. It just hurts too much to keep on processing things. And to my memory, there's never been a time when I've dealt with a situation successfully before it happened. Maybe it's time- time to try things a different way. Maybe this time, I just need to do it and think later, worry later, figure it out later. I remember the year Vene called and said it hurt to come back to Australia because she made such better friends in Singapore in that short time. I know how that feels. It's like a piece of paradise that got taken away and all you're left with is.. well, 0% real juice pineapple paradise from Dome. Which reminds me, I should go back there on Thursday nights and score free coffee. I am sure there must be some consolation to being here. If' I've seen all the bad (the snotty old ladies buying silly looking flowers, the discriminatory salesgirls and the wide, spaced out civil planning), then surely there must be some good (too much peace and quiet, right now).

I will work 2 years and see how it goes.

Dear God, tell me what you need me to do before you will issue me a transfer!

With words I cannot say:

She hears the siren song that this island sings,
it beckons, like an itch that cannot be pleased.
She cries at night for another land,
there she is awake, no longer afraid or tired of life.
Many miles away, she laments the coming year,
a new chapter of troubles, strife and fear.
The remedy is simple, but not easy as it seems.
Its needle is long and she tries not to see.
Her view dims and darkens and soon she is faint,
she sees not the land and forgets its place.
Only the Cross is in view, that has taken reign.
Things she held on to, now is shamed.
Sold to the King, her life beats again,
but not for a country, but His Kingdom's plan.
She hears the siren song, an old memory,
of a time forgotten, a land she lived and breathed.
No more strife or fear, in this place of peace
A new birth, a fresh start, only on Jesus now she cleaves.

Thank you for saying them for me. You understand more than you let on, and I'm thankful and happy that you've tried and passed. It's beautiful.

Snuck

I've been wearied in a day. It's as if I have something to hide, and I guess I do. Chocolates, weight, saga seeds and a ring. Although I should show all these things openly (except maybe the $50, 000 seeds), I find that I have lost hands to offer them, and degraded into a puddle of mud (or muddle of pud). If I wrote 'sux' on your wrist.

On another note, we've decided on wedding favours, programs and venue. New interesting developments have rendered the pixelating process 50% complete. We also have a dedicated and talented beyond natural genius design team, absolutely FOC (for love, not money of course).

Monkey Majik is actually helping my mood. As well as writing for Ziig.

Yeah, yeah, the blog is dying. Tell me something I don't know. I'm losing the tinker-magic. I'm gonna leave it here anyway just in case I revive by some chance.