whether the weather

I was watching The Weather Man this evening on HBO (or was it Cinemax?), the one with Nicholas Cage and Michael Caine. It started off wonderfully realistic and true to life.

I.e. The mundane day-to-day job, the broken family, the dad who never seems to approve, the kids on drugs and cigarettes.

That's the only reason why I kept watching.
Well, no, I don't like inflicting pain on myself, but I was curious to find out what he (Nicholas Cage plays Dave Spritz) would end up. Suicidal? Insane? Or would it be a 'feel-good-movie' and he would gain confidence in himself, the family would wake up and put in effort to change too, and it would all be alright?

What struck me was when Dave's dad, the made-it-to-the-top-alas-my-poor-son Pulitzer Prize winner Robert Spritz (Michael Caine) said:

David, sacrifice is... to get anything of value, you have to sacrifice.
Do you know that the harder thing to do and the right thing to do are usually the
same thing? Nothing that has meaning is easy. "Easy" doesn't enter into grown-up
life.

This was a conversation between a 40 year old and a 70 year old...I guess lessons never arrive too late, huh?

love/suffering

"Love may forgive all infirmities and love still in spite of them: but Love cannot cease to will their removal."
~ C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Truly I believe this encapsulates perfect love, and that is the love of God for us. Not forgetting that a portion of this love exists between parent and child, husband and wife, and perhaps ( yes, I do think) between friend and friend.

That's why love and suffering will always be two sides of the same coin: one cannot be without the other. If you wish to go through life without suffering, it would mean to give up caring for others, at the same time missing out on the possibilities of a much greater joy you can gain.

On the other hand, if you wish to live a life of love - true, accepting and forgiving - you must be ready to feel the pinches, because we live in a world of differences.

Still, those who have known true love will attest to its worth, much greater than a cold heart devoid of suffering can offer.


Below is another one I like:
"Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither."
C. S. Lewis

It reminds me of one I heard when I was in secondary school, and which has encouraged me when I fall short of my own expectations: "Aim sky, hit tree. Aim tree, hit ground."

A Stubborn Covetous Weak Perfectionist Fool.

Despite that, let it be a Fool for You.

To two of my most wonderful friends, one of whom walked with me this night to Ave 2 to have a late-night teh because I was feeling stressed and at my wits end, the other having spent so many hours and so much effort in a bid to fix a sometimes-fuzzy-sometimes-crossed line: Thank you.

Thank you for taking my hand when my eyes were closed, and leading me to the smell of fresh, lush spring-green pasture. Thank you for reassuring me with the fact that sunlight is shining, almost bursting, right outside those closed lids, just past paper-thin stretched skin. Thank you for helping me pick the gritty pebbles out of my left shoe, for remembering the tissue on our breath-taking excursions, for placing my blind groping hand in the hand of One who will lovingly lead me.

And to those who feel squashed in a small dark corner, or tripping over nasty enemy-laid trap-lines, or plain frustrated with the piling responsibilities and claims made on you, don't give up.
Don't give in to the thoughts that lure you into further (hidden) slavery, don't give up on the good that you've initially decided to promote, don't lose hope.

There's a peace that's found even at the bottom of a pit, if only you trust (again) in a Love greater than man's.

A helpful related link that's a reflection of Wednesday's readings:
A Spider's Web

Milky Way

aiyoyo, nearly forgot my login name. again.

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
Might be the most adequate way to begin this post - have been essay-slogging-away (the dreaded E word) and have one last one left before...well, before whatever comes next. Really.

It's wonderful to smell Summer in a place of perpetual summer, high-five with the Borat of my house, cook for my mama and papa, and so much more.

It has been wonderful, but nothing beats the re-entry. (after 1460 revolutions of the Earth)
grinz
I still have a last Freudian dash to make, so busy might be the word of the month.

kae? thanks!

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me

I'm so far away from You
Please bring me back
I need to get out of my mind
And into Yours
The blockhead that I am

no, these are not lyrics to a song, nor do the lines form a poem
It's an impassioned plea of the present

my preciousssss

Let me not bore you any longer about the lack of progress in my work. (but if you do wish to read see below kekeke)

Here are some presents I recently received! Huge Jap chocolate bar; shawls, an 'evil eye' bracelet and a bookmark from Turkey; and - best of the wonderful lot- a full set of Corpse Bride collectibles!

looking for the best place to...

Somebody famous said voyeurism is bad. Well, in more refined terms than mine. But when you're addicted...

I need a nicotine patch (ok, if you're wondering, nothing really bad, just blogs. I'm beginning to think they're just as pernicious in their own right)

Looking for the best place in town to write a gooooood essay!
Managed to complete a thou words in 2 hours in a house not my own, but in one that belongs to yours truly I'm a lazy lousy student who loves to irritate her di full stop

Bother

wibbly wobbly

If I can only write essays after 12.30 am and before 6am then I must needs turn into a vampire and forsake all earthly companions.

Which is what I did today.
Alas, more writing in point form than coherent paragraphs, but hopefully it's the first step towards the whole.

Another reason against the academic dream!

feeling: panicky, better than just now i.e. less sneezing and coughing

let's dance

woke up, walked you to the station, and then went home still smelling like summer

mmmmm.....

time to boogie with the work *sigh*


PS Transformers is (are?) hotttttttt!!!!!

3 guys, a girl and a messy kitchen

Everyone's gone! It's down to Mot, IK, Rann and I.
And that's from 6 guys and 6 girls in a flat!

So tired, I popped my head out of the window so my hair could dry and nearly fell asleep.
It's summer, and 15 degress cel. outside. brrr

Another long day of books and (hopefully singing) and more books tomorrow.

Only with God my soul can find its rest,
find its rest and peace.
~ Taize chant

timetable

cooking porridge at 6.05am

10.30am To see the model of femininity: my HOD (who has a professorship from cambridge, family and good dress sense)

11am To meet my tutor, the genius of psychoanalysis who has translated works by Laplanche and written highly acclaimed articles and books on Freud

2.3opm To see off my course-mate who is probably the first to finish all her essays (3 months before the deadline) and will be getting married in a few months' time

3.30pm To speak to a couple over skype - my parents hehehehe

static velocity

a few blogs later....


it's not happening.


I'm heading to the library now.

Which tree can I pluck motivation from??!!


















Pic courtesy of www.doodleaday.co.uk

morning

Today's dawn is a cloudy grey one, the sky slowly turning a shy blue but not quite yet. An adolescent boy from a mission school on his first excursion to a Girl-Guides bonfire night.

wow, look at you now
Flowers in the window
It's such a lovely day
And I'm glad you feel the same
'cos to stand up I'm in the crowd
You are one in a million
And I love you so; let's watch the flowers grow

'Flowers in the Window' by Travis

Here is a poignant poem, An Arundel Tomb, which was (is?) a favourite of my JC literature teacher. Oh, especially that last line!

on envy and it's antithesis

To compare is to err, but, oh, how hard it is to do otherwise!

Comparison leads to envy,
envy leads to hate,
hate leads to....
well, you know this one.

Indeed, those who face such a problem know that there is 'no rest for the wicked':
the vicious cycle of envy and looking at others' green pastures and wishing and longing and fighting for which is never enough.

Stratagems to do otherwise:
to look at, aspire to, the one who is perfect, and who in that perfection loves all who are imperfect.

At age 14, I learnt that attrition and pressure release were weathering processes in Geography.
At 23, I am learning that contrition and loving are processes too.

Truly truly thank God for the people he has sent into my life, for those I have met or spoken to over the phone or msn or facebook or received a mail from have been so generous with their time and sincerity, especially these past two months. Even if it has just been a sentence of telling me about your life, a phrase of well-wishes or a conversation about future plans, each means so much.

He never leaves us bereft or broken, because he will send his messengers to support and love.

not much of a title is this title

Where will I be 14 days later?
I can't even answer that
In which place in time and space,
In work and play, sorrowful or gay

(that makes a lousy rhyme)
here's what I mean

The blank darkness that looms ahead;
One like me has an impulse to flee -
Nothing I've experienced before
Something out of a folktale or lore.

Oh, I know I'm running away,
Or at least creating a delay
When I have hot chocolate with marshmallows
and apple brambly turnover in a single day.

(apple brambly turnover)

Yet what difference is this
From the mystery that life is?
When death or accident will overtake us
And if not, that'll only be, might only be, a plus.

Trite though words may seem
They present the kernel of what is
And unless you want to disregard centre
Be wary of the judgements that enter

Interestingly enough, after writing this I dropped half of my turnover, cream and all, on the table, chair and carpet. While I usually would have moaned (being the perfectionist I am, about not having dropped it 90 degrees pointing east), I felt absolutely no emotion after the occurrence. Scarily interesting, interestingly scary.

dearest dearest dearest dre, and matt, and jen,
thank you. your weighty words of well-wishes will carry me through.

oh lord come to our aid
make haste to help us

hellllppppp
typing this in the middle of a flurry of appointments with lecturers, consultants, event managers, and I still haven't done my essay that's due in less than 2 weeks
dead duck merry muck still stuck

I want to go home and sleep

A day out in pictures

Summer Break! Now you see us...





Now you don't!





City of Coventry: Catheral, Shopping malls and Council houses



The old Benedictine Priory grounds



The ruined cathedral of St. Michael.

It dates from 1300 A.D. and was one of the largest parish churches in England.One can imagine how it stood, with its walls, stumps of pillars and the altar still surviving.

On the top left you can see the roof of the new cathedral, which is large and grand and very modern. Think design and space of St. Mary of the Angels... x 20.




This is it: the new St Michael

What do you live for?

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards. - Søren Kierkegaard

Very true, and either tragic or inspiring, depending on which way you look at it.

Kierkegaard was s a philosopher whose work influenced Ibsen's drama - interestingly enough Ibsen went from happy endings to increasingly poignant, even catastrophic, endings.

Not to mention, an atheist perspective? As the Father of existentialism I would expect no less, but this does not make his account an authoritative one.

Hope means looking past the future (what a conundrum), past the world that we live in, and to live in the perspective of a different world. If we lived in the perspective of this world we would end up violent, sadistic, selfish creatures, because that is what society, competition and capitalism breeds. Sure, there is wealth, but wouldn't you agree it brings along with it vices that man seem to complacently accept in the present as normal by-products?

I was asked if I thought world religions were 'comfort blankets', cushions and safety nets we place below our precarious positions in life to assure us with an illusion that 'everything will be alright'. In other words, if people believe in a god because it gives them an ability to stand up on their feet after defeat, regardless of an actual existence of god.

I find that assertion thoroughly repulsive, since it is almost as good as Cypher (from The Matrix) saying "give me my steak even though there is no such thing, because all my life is about is enjoyment for the period I am alive". Then 'belief' in a religion, in a god, is a mere opium, a dulling of the senses to be able to live for a while, for myself.

True belief, on the other hand, grounds the knowledge of the supernatural with experiences of God. It says, "I know there is a God, and if there isn't one I rather accept that too than go on living in a lie just to be 'happy'". Religion is not the opiate of the people; is it a life of love and necessarily a life lived for others. It is an enlightenment rather than a shutting out of facts and truth.

Thomas Kinkade eloquently said:



"When we learn to say a deep, passionate yes to the things that really matter...

then peace begins to settle onto our lives like golden sunlight sifting to a forest floor."

Yesterday, today and forever
Jesus the same

And everlasting, in the palm of Your hand

There's a fire that burns in our hearts
To see the lost return to the Father

saying the words 'gone', 'no longer with us', 'passed on' seem insufficient
and too pompous at the same time

Hearing of two deaths today, I do not know either of them personally, but one of my friends was very moved when she heard it was her good friend. How do we process it?

Bigger than what we know, larger than what we experience, more important than what we are worried about - the exams, the appearances, the money
Thinking if there is something we could have done better in the past for that someone
But that would be too late
Then do it now, while they are here
Star of the morning, You are stronger than death

Fresh blueberries

floating in a bowl of rich creamy milk...

Blue stars in a white sky

Similes (not smiles or smileys)

Writing an 8000 word essay on Shakespeare and Pandora is like making and fitting together a jigsaw puzzle: you have to paint the whole picture, cut it up into little size bits and mix them up, and then fit them back again.

Life is like a box of chocolate...(ok you know this one)

looking into mirrors

Do I have regrets over the past three years or so?
It's best to close that chapter without looking back: say "no",
A tug, that things might have been different in the past
If it were other places, peoples, routes from last.

Going through the photos of others is like a crush;
Conjuring the best of what might just be a brush.
At 23, is this what they call quarter-life crisis?
Agonising over the various hits-and-misses

Then I think of those who have stuck with me through
The thick and thin and up and down and pink and blue
My housemates, my friends, my dearest confidantes
Who shared the joys and, when I strayed, were kindly blunt

So "no" it will be, firm and good and true;
I could not have been more blessed, more loved, by You.

football and food go together

It's 4.41am, and I've only done 1300 words. So slow am I!

Some pics coming up...

The bar at the students' union, filled with Liverpool and AC Milan fans, and the in-betweens who were just there to soak in the atmosphere.
Was a fun experience!

Met some Singaporeans, old friends and new (including a secondary school mate!), so I sat with them and cheered along...mostly when Zenden went off and later when Crouch came on!









After that headed to Tesco, the english NTUC, and bought some, er , comfort-ing food...heehee

on the news

Ever heard of an eco-friendly sandwich van that goes round the campus and delivers food to your doorstep?
Neither have I...and I think its a cool idea!
Have to catch this van and check it out someday...like today, when the food sup is nearly nil.

Another word I've 'learnt' today to describe the progress of my essay due in 5 days time: dismal.
argh

10 mins to choir practice: I hope I get inspired then...something about Shakespeare please?
and then an hour to Champions League Finals! will be at the bar...I'm told we have to 'chope' a seat an hour before the match kicks off!

You Are Elmo

Sweet and innocent, you expect everyone to adore you. And they usually do! You are usually feeling: Talkative. You've got tons of stories to tell. And when you aren't talking, you're laughing. You are famous for: Being popular, though no one knows why. Middle aged women especially like you. How you live your life: With an open heart. "Elmo loves you!"

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

Ah well, no one's perfect...middle-aged women?!

so kute!

A meerkat looks after its nine-week-old baby at Drusillas Park, East Sussex.

Courtesy of BBC

After attempting a series of quizzes (you know those mundane things you do when you want to escape work), I've found out that I have a violet aura, can pass 8th grade math, am only good at punctuation in English, and should be a political activist.

Ok, as long as I finish this next essay, I will build a time machine and go back to Sec 3 (CHIJ TP, of course), since that's the only age I'll excel, apparently!

=p

oh! also, I'm apparently 70% weird, which confirms my premonition in the 12th May entry! The quiz results say I'm weirder than weird because I think I'm normal...but if I think I'm weird, does that make me more normal now?

I'm eating warm googy chocolate pud!!
*toothy choco-smeared grin*

a stitch in time

time for some Yo-yo ma (influence credited to ff, who's on her way to nippon now!)
and Shakespeare (influence credited to my grandpa)

five-stones

It's 3.15am. Bible study on Philippians this evening helped me to concentrate on work, so I did more in the last 2 hours than I've done the past few days. Still a long road to walk. Talking to the other 12 who were sharing I realise I'm not alone...so many are trudging the difficult road of essays alone. But not lonely =)

I owe....so many people. Well, not owe so much, but I would like to speak to them: a birthday message to hil and krys and cheez (long overdue!), a hallo to min and yanyan and hele, notes to ff and dre and shell.

I think I'm weird...but that's because I'm comparing. Everyone else looks so smooth (talker) and lucky (in the right place at the right time with right people) and alright (as opposed to not alright, i guess!) and happier (need I explain more?) and off the cover of fashion mags (thanks von for the affirmation 9 years ago, i remember!). I think I've been looking at friendster too long, and frankly I know this is one of the most juvenile statements I'm making out loud (oops, I said it?) =)

So if you feel weird and out of place too, you're not alone, which means you're not weird nor out of place! You're exactly where you're meant to be - forging ahead as you dare to be different (go ask someone for a hug NOW, and don't be shy because they probably need it as much as you do)

okie, time to sleep now!

pick up sticks

I've got part of a song stuck in my head, ever since choir practice yesterday. It's a new song to me, and our practice was much livened up this upbeat piece:

He is the king of kings
and new life he brings
Sing it in the valleys
Shout it from the mountain tops
~ Sing It in the Valleys

It's a really simple piece, with not much 'deep' meaning to the words on first appearance...yet after the umpteenth time it had been playing in my head, it began to dawn on me what this 'it' is, what I'm supposed to shout from high and low. It's something to be joyfully proclaimed when we are on the mountain or in the valley, whether we experience happiness or depression. Because he is faithful, the praises meant for him will always be valid, whether or not we 'feel' his presence. Shouting it on the mountain is easy, because we are filled with his Spirit and have that push of courage: to offer spiritual advice to others, to give to the poor in love, to forgive.

Singing it in the valley is a lot more difficult, but that's perhaps why we are asked to sing it: a hymn sung is a prayer said twice. These times when we are low are the most crucial times for prayer and praise. I believe this praise is not the licking of the boot before we submit an application (of supplication); God doesn't need that. Praising allows us to realise what a good god we have, reminding us that he can turn our mourning into dancing.

So, what kind of praises should we sing?

I was watching a movie trailer on Apple.com, for the show Starter for Ten. One of the characters in the trailer says, 'People who really care about you don't mind if you make mistakes, it's what you do next that matters'. This is one thing I know I can sing about him: that he's someone who really cares about me, and that perfect love is simply amazing. Three other people like that are mum, dad and matt; these keep me going, walking, trying my best, even in the valleys.

paddle paddle paddle *breathe*
tiring work to heave and heave
ongoing without leave
or is it just a brief?

perhaps I have imagined it so
that it truly is not so low
yet still searching for the flow
so that I can start, run, go!

like a blu-tac pulled to the thin
I need to find myself within
"no one can walk you through that door"
or so Neo was told before the score

wishing cannot conjure success
only willing (not mine) will see it blessed
a plea: will you pray for me?
I need strength and peace to see

please?
=)
I feel trapped in my room, and though I have anywhere I could go right now, outside to the garden, a bus to town, a plane to Germany or China, I force myself to sit at my desk and read the notes I have compiled. No great ideas, no new and groundbreaking thoughts, so no words. Funny, one would think that with the lack of (apparent) responsibility except for studies the freedom would be exhilarating, but I think if this was taken away from me, my essay-writing, I would fall even more gravely ill and limp. There are things I can do still, yet I have this feeling that I'm learning the un-static characteristic of happiness. What is man without a goal? Man with God, whether he knows it or not. For goals come and go, they are achieved or elude you, and then what?

on love

Perhaps it was by chance that I strolled in the Warwick Arts Centre just in time to hear the announcement over the PA system that the matinee performance of Three Sisters was about to resume after the interval. Compelled by the novelty to watch this famous play by Chekhov, coupled with an impetus of curiosity and sheer want of entertainment, I enquired about the show. It turned out that that evening's performance was to be its last. Rushing over to the box office I immediately bought a ticket and walked out of the theatre satisfied.

That evening, I ambled out of the the theatre once more, altered by the single fact of having been a voyeur at Chekhov's masterpiece. It had been an evening of scrambling for subtitles on the overhead screen and an attempt to catch most of what occured on stage, for it had been performed in its original language, Russian. For a long time I could not get Masha's line out of my head:

"When you read a novel, any novel, then it seems that everything is so old hat and everything is easily understood, but when you fall in love yourself then it becomes obvious to you that nobody knows anything and each person must make their own decisions"

Act 3

And so it is that nothing can prepare you for the assail of decisions when you commit yourself to someone. Commit not with mere words, but as the Australian natives would translate in English, with all one's 'insides'. Personally, due to the influence of such and such great men, I feel no affiliation with the term 'fall' when it comes to the love Masha speaks of. For the clumsiness of failing arms and legs in the movement of falling has no association with the act of true love. This temporary gust that trips us might be more properly termed 'infatuation', not at all a bad thing but an impure form that prepares us for the perfection of what is to come; falling is falling short.

True love, on the other hand, is defined by sacrifice. Yes, together with the connotations sacrifice alludes to: difficulty, pain, sorrow. Love is all these, just as ice is water, and vapour is water. No pure substance is begotten without a process, and this process by any other name would be as bitter. And yet not bitter: the taste of love turns sweet, for in that process of sacrifice the bitterness of giving up (when is not thinking about oneself first sweet) is refined into a thing pure and beautiful. The pain given in the betterment of another is transformed in substance by love and produces love.

And then, the heart of matter: water is not merely ice, water is not only vapour. Love is not only difficulty, pain or sorrow. It carries such properties of refinement within itself and more. Water quenches the slaking thirst of a dying man, it cools the heat of the desert soul, and washes away the stains of past hurts. Love is not a static goal of finality; it is the entire movement from start to finish. It is a journey that encompasses the test of the Venom symbiote for Spidey, the One ring of corruption for Galadriel, the Turkish Delight for Edmund.

catharsis

A falling drop into the ocean; what does it mean?
To join the pool of groaning humanity
What difference can one man make
Against the overwhelming sea?

Sadness is like a still pond
That hides the incessant trickling
Of tributaries; rills that spill
And feed the endlessness.

By that pond, a lily blooms
ever-slowly inching, bursting
a fight to the finish, thriving on waves
that lap up gurgling gurgling at its feet

I think I'm stuck somewhere in March. Middle of march to be exact, because I keep thinking it's not yet into the 20s of March, and so it must be in the teens, and still slogging at the first essay such that the end seems far far away.

Yesterday my brother was telling me about an equation by Stevens (some phsysicist) which can calculate the human perception of something with relation to what it actually is in reality. Like pain, or a burn, or a cut, or a scream; how much more or less we place importance to it than it actually is in reality.
It's called Stevens' Power Law... this guy stevens power lor...

So let me place an equation on my first statement of being stuck somewhere in march:
Continuum - Time
Exponent - 0.01
Stimulus Condition - Just before essay deadline (approx. 14 days before)

dawn of the

Woke up this morning to an attack of the C-roaches!
Luckily, major mum had just got a fresh supply of ammunition from N.T.U.C., so I took out the heavily loaded semi-automatic Mortein21 and shot down all forms of those crawling undead.
9 casualties, none from the England team.

Being lost in the constructions of structures, I forgot about the little fall of rain, music like a soft breeze, echoes from the trembling heart.

It's cold, and I sit at my desk with a sleeping bag wrapped around my legs, like a competitor preparing for a potato-sack race.

in coherence

"I like to be left alone"

A simple statement, that can mean so many things. Some of the various ways include:

1. Simply, the speaking subject enjoys solitude.

2. More likely, the subject is speaking to an Other and is implying through this hint that he would like to be left alone. It is what is left out of the statement that is important.

3. The subject is a neurotic one, as our civilisation is, such that he makes friends only to find that he often loses them. This occurs usually through means which appear beyond the subject's control, such as betrayal, adultery, jealousy, greed, and even death. However the cause is not an external one that belongs to the other, but an unconscious (masochistic) desire to be left alone, since he appears to gain pleasure from being proven correct from in an assumption (such as 'people are never reliable' or 'men/women are jerks/slags' etc.). The pleasure overrides the displeasure gained in the seperation from the other, and all this happens outside of the subject's consciousness. In the end he feels like a victim; yet all this has precipitated from his own hand (or, rather, mind).

Refer to life for more information.
Have a nice day!
=)


added at 6.20pm:
Roman Jakobson paraphrased: Human speech never merely transmits a message, it always also self-reflectively asserts the basic symbolic pact between the communicating subjects.

Therefore, point 1 is eliminated.

catch a falling star

Wearing beach shorts and a tee that reads: 'Born to be wild; Melbourne', I stick my hands into the night sky, stretching out of the window with palms flat, to catch the falling snowflakes in the middle of march.

question-ing

what can assuage the guilt of man?

every moment is life, which means every moment is a step towards or backwards, for we can never not make a choice, and even choosing not to decide is deciding, which means we have either moved back or forth.

what dreams may come

I'm an outsider, in all senses of the word. Even to myself, a feeling which Freud acerbates as I read him (and I have no chioce in this).

I feel like I have little choice in anything nowadays, except to pray or not to pray.

In a 'deep conversation' (as Adama called it) with Wong Fei Hong yesterday, he told me that "It's your difference from others that will bring success". Not me per se; his idiom encompasses everyone. I have difficulty integrating this with my experience...or maybe I'm just not seeing far enough.

I can't interpret my dream, maybe you can:
I am back in my house, familiar and cosy, with my parents when suddenly my older sister's boyfriend (? I don't have a sister) whom I've not met before enters and I feel like he's intruding and making use of my parents. He's asking for something, money or some kind of advantage that he's planning not to return, and I get angry. I start arguing with him to leave, but no one else believes me and he's given the money (or whatever he'd asked for). Then a stranger comes in, looking very much like Billy Bob Thornton (??), whom no one knows but he's invited in and made comfortable in my house. Now I'm really frustrated and insulted and a bigger quarrel begins between the two of us, yet again my parents are indifferent to his presence and leave to go somewhere. I'm left alone with this old man (Billy-look-alike) and when a third stranger (he remains in shadow but is a bulky figure with a top hat) enters and goes ahead to sleep in my bed, I lose it and all energy to fight. So I crouch down somewhere in the house (because my bed's been taken) and someone (maybe it's Billy-look-alike, maybe not) is sympathetic and comes over. Without saying much, or even anything, his presence is enough.



To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause

-From Shakespeare's Hamlet, in his famous speech beginning "To be, or not to be..."

Groceries

I bought lots and lots of good food today at Tesco and Fresh Asia! Strawberries, kimchi dumplings, tofu, soya bean drink, wasabi peas, cream, honey mustard pasta, carbonara sauce, humous, mature chedder cheese, TANG YUAN! and much more...

Been putting off going to the supermarket for weeks now (yes, I've been starving) because of the rain and work and lazy bones, but today I was left with no choice because I could no longer stand baked beans and plain rice, and I had cancelled with Yanyan for an Italian dinner because of a panic attack (non-serious) so I trudged off to find food glorious food in the afternoon.

Just got a message from sg, and it made me smile (BIG grin) because it was about a mathematical equation (7x7) My favourite person!
Which is so rare nowadays (mathematical equations... and who grins to themselves when they are alone?!) Well, JFok maybe ... hehe just kidding! So happy I got him excited about Heroes too! Yataaa! So at least I know I'm not alone in favouring otaku-san... =)

Continuously playing How To Save A Life by The Fray

will it never cease?

can-not e-ra-di-cate
between the lines of fear and blame
the difference between all man
each and every man

No matter how alike, liked, close, closed, understood, stood up, you feel you are to the other, there will never be perfect harmony, everlasting peace

That's why the greatest of these is love, because love is a decision, not merely a warm and fuzzy emotion (though it can be at times)

“Our Hearts Are Restless, Until They Rest In Thee, O Lord" Saint Augustine

Went to bed at 1.30am.

essesssesssessssesssssss
esssaessssaessssaesssssaeessaa
essayessayessayessayeessssayyyyessayy
ESSAYESSAYESSAYESSAYESSAYESSAYESSAY

It's now 5.55am

-_-

Thanks guys!!

OH MY GOSH! I got something in the mail today, and realise I actually have more people I want to thank (and who must have been keeping a secret for a week now!)

MY HEARTFELT LOVE to Matt, Stell, Eddie, Chris, Leonard, Nick, Esper, Cheryl, Jo and Hil!!!
I even got cookies which I believe Cheryl baked? whoa!!
And my favourite wasabi seaweed: I'm going to open a pack tonight! (I'll TRY to ration heehee)

AH! It's a gorgeous surprise which has cheered up my cold winter!!

song of the moment

Will you stay with me
Will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

Fields of Gold, with Michelle Kwan on ice

Many many many MANY thanks to mum, dad, matt, chee seng, fabian, chan, spyke, siumei, jfok, shell, nat, dre, ken li, sim, amanda, fangfang, gerrie, ee ee, james, dan, stel, yan-yan, jingyi for all the wishes, whatever shape or size they came in - no matter if they were missed calls (and I'm so sorry but I heard my phone ringing in class and could not pick it up, because so did my lecturer!) or messages - since they were all of love and care and I would not ask for more!!!

If you press me to tell why I loved [my friend], I feel that this cannot be expressed, except by answering: Because it was he, because it was I.

-Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592), French essayist. “Of Friendship,” The Essays (Les Essais), bk. I, ch. 28, Abel Langelier, Paris (1595).

moving

The most touching line of the week (actually, for two weeks):



Imogen embraces Posthumus

Posthumus: "Hang there like fruit, my soul,

til the tree die."






-From Shakespeare's Cymbeline, seen today in Birmingham with Yan-yan

sno! (Jen has copyright for this word)

I woke up this morning, and it was....SNOWING!

Bright, white and cold outside, warm and comfy in!

Well, I headed out in the frosty afternoon to the library.

Everywhere there were snowball fights going on (people loading supermarket trolleys with snowballs as ammo!) and others making snowmen...

So my friends and I rolled around a bit...

And started building a snow-family =)

Success! (After 2 hours of hard work) teehee!

My Hero Is You by Hayden Panettiere

I never saw the way
You sacrificed
Who knew the price you paid
How can I make it right
I know I've gotta try

When my world goes crazy
You won't let go
When the ground gets shaky
You give me hope
When I try to push you away
You never move, yeah

Now when I start doubting
You help me see
There's a strength, and a mind, and a power in me
Oh believe there ain't nothing I can't do
My hero is you, yeah
My hero is you

And I hope that you can see
You're everything that I wanna be

To Jesus, Mum, Dad, Matt, Dre, Mag Low, Ms Lian

this is getting worse and worse
missed lessons, stressed, deadlines approaching, research insufficient, sick, prospect of loneliness, forgiveness to ask, reparations to make
and then a death
which should place all things in perspective
only it hasn't, and things are in
Chaos
a mess
Uncertainty
the palm of Your hand

Finally she could stand it no longer. One day when everyone was out she crept up to the box, took the huge key, fitted it carefully into the lock and turned it. She lifted the lid to peep in but before she realised it the room was filled with terrible things: disease, despair, malice, greed, old age, death, hatred, violence, cruelty and war. She slammed the lid down and turned the key again...keeping only the spirit of hope inside.

nothing clears the flu like a goodypoody bowl of rich double chocolate ice cream...

Damn, it didn't work.

Have I lost them, after all those years, after all these years? Because I couldn't be by your side, to cheer or playfully jeer, to cajole or go kallang bowl, and simply just to listen, which is what I should have done dear friend. I am sorry

Dre, thanks for telling me about mag low and her husband; it's such shocking news...I wonder how old he was. And though she is a strong lady, I can't imagine how it feels to lose half of life. Like you said, we'll be praying for her and her family, especially that her own faith and hope may be strong. She's the reason why I'm here doing literature.

Ps and Qs

If only man did not have to sleep...he'd have 24 hours in a day!
I think this is the second time I'm repeating my wish in 12 months... definately has something to do with mid-semester crisis.
It's 4am; the past 12 hours have been filled with the works of a psychoanalyst, a philosopher and a pater.
On the psyche, politics of art and prayer: 3 important aspects to arrive at an understanding of 'What on earth am I here for?!'

Been listening to Bukak Pantai's Budakumentary - support local artists! Not for the fact that they are local, but for the fact that they are quality, and we should stop bowing to imperialism.
Great acapella group who aren't afraid to experiment with styles and languages, and they're one of the pioneers (if not the pioneers) of the acapella scene in Singapore.

thoughts

residue
trickling down my
neck, my back
needing to be cleansed

apples released
one after the other
spilt milk dripping
falling off the edge

put a name to it
call it gravity
still can't take away
or give it brevity

this is me not getting over missing her birthday

Ling-Ling and Butterscotch

indiscriminate clarity

Just came back from lunch with Yan-Yan, and she gave me Ling-Ling! Ling-Ling's a baby female panda who was born in China, raised in Japan, and brought to UK to do her major in mathematics. Okie, you probably think I need to get out of my room more. I do get out....too much! Time to start work...sigh

On other things:
Heroes - It's better than Grey's Anatomy, Smallville, even Battlestar Galactica, and can rival X-Men!! Watch it! Don't be put off by the slow start....it'll come to a head!

Also craving for wasabi peas. And seaweed. Been drinking miso soup...mmmm

Are you trying to tell me something?

11am-2pm: Professor drilling the 5 of us in his class with questions about what it means to be an intellectual, what are his/her duties to the people, and on what grounds a critic enforces his judgement. This was our first lesson and it was pure discussion, without lecture, background or notes. These are some of the things we came up with in answer:

An intellectual is part of an elite group caught between tradition and innovation, who is in but not of the world. The critic moves from a subjective stance to an objective one, and beyond that to produce a rational, value judgement. People's judgements stem from the ideology they are immersed in, and an intellectual's role is to re-present (if necessary) culture, history and the future. One has the choice to be part of this elite group, or to retreat as Cypher does into the Matrix.

Those two hours just gave me a headache.
Well, no, not just a headache, but because what was said made me think. That we each have a choice, a responsiblity that comes with our abilities. But what?

6.30pm-10.30pm: Bible Study group, dinner and fellowship included. Today the 8 of us read and discussed Galatians 6:1-10, and then had an honest, uplifting intercessory prayer session. The thing I took away with me was prayer.
I had forgotten how powerful prayer was, how integral it is in communication with God, how much other people (not just myself) need it.
There's something I must do, and it can't be done through essays. But what?

hmm

an excerpt

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING
by John Donne

But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run ;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.