Curtains

It's curtains, baby.

Time to set a new stage.

Time to leave, but keep the memories,

Time to turn a new page.

Are you ready?

Hold my hand and breathe in.

Don't be afraid, don't worry;

the Sovereign One will lead us through again.

wrote the first paragraph at dna, just added in the rest today. Blessed New Year, everyone.

~blah~

Was listening to taylor swift's new album and started scribbling this....this...thing. Edited it slightly, but it still doesn't sound right.

Just dumping it here to see whether you can do something about it, o great whoever-who-gets-inspired. Yes, I'm afraid that most of my posts here is me dumping my trashy rough scribblings on you. Hardly any of them are really edited properly. What would Pn. Poga say? sigh...

Well, here it is. Hopefully it's improve-able and not sh**y as previously commented by someone

(and hey i'm REALLY not mad at that someone, just perplexed that she never explained her comment. it's a shame, I'd have loved to know her reasoning.)

Two kids

The King is dead; long live the king!

We’re here to be royalty in fantasy

Two kids in a fairyland

Here to grow up and conquer.

There are ogres and giants

Bitter beasts, evil witches and demons.

Saddle your noble steed and grab your sword

We’ve a world to defend

Your crown is too big for you

But put it on, march ahead of your troops

I’m right here with you

Let us protect and govern and rule.

Laugh at fear and win with a song

Fantasy won’t bring us down

We learn best when we are in

our fairy world.

Two kids in this fairyland,

Here to grow up and conquer.

We’ll soon know how to live and overcome

the Real World.

End of an Era

Don’t you ever wonder what
Will happen when it ends
How can we let go of the
Ones who we call friends
And I know, it’s only a story, but
For so many it’s more than that
It’s a world, all on its own where we
Want to put on the sorting hat

I will miss the train ride in
And the pranks pulled by the twins
And though it’s no where I have been
I’ll keep on smiling from the times I had with them

Could there ever be again
Another one like this
One that’s brought us together and
Started its own music movement

Soon we will see it closed
The final chapter exposed
It’s an end of an era
And I’m seeing clearer
That nothing will ever be the same

a song by oliver boyd and the remembralls, yes this is a wrock (wizard rock) band. There's plenty of them around, and some of their lyrics are reli nice, thought some can be a bit...lame (go see my previous fb status-es to find out).

didn't you feel like this at the end oh harry potter? or at the end of something?

wanna see more wrock bands? this is quite a good site. http://realwizardrock.com

and this is what it is

I've had it. I've tried and tried to write, but i can't, and i understand why now.

Of late I've been wondering how much i should post up here for the whole world to see. No, the CIA hasn't called me in or anything, neither has the Mafia, but I'm beginning to question how much of my private life i should make public; and how much of myself should i show. Not that I'm a mystery, mind you, but privacy is a precious thing; and sometimes some things should be kept to themselves.

More importantly is the fact that I'm not a good writer. I've been reading Alcott again, and now i understand the difference between "genius and talent", as she says. I won't deny that i may have talent, but genius i lack, and i can't write everything and anything brilliantly. I spent a trying time putting my thoughts together in written form to interest you, and I've come to the conclusion that my head is just not equipped for it. A genius could write anything well, and I'm not one. I can't write deep, philosophical stuff, and it's pointless to look like a fool when anyone else can do a better job than me.

It's rather a blow to my pride and hopes, for writing has always been a joy and i always thought that someday the pen would be my life, but it is a good lesson; and perhaps this was what i was supposed to be taught, aside from biology and mathematics. I can't be a genius; writing non-fiction doesn't suit me, so i won't be a Socrates or Plato. My stories aren't the "stuff of Shakespeare", or anywhere near Dickens and other literary heroes, so i lay my "pen of ambition" down forever.

I won't stop writing; i love it too much, and this blog won't die; for i love to hear your words of wisdom about me. But i won't go around trying to stuff my scribblings with bombastic words, neither would i try to post something about philosophy and deep thinking when I'd make a joke out of it. Simple stories suit me best, I make more sense of myself amongst fantasy and am comfortable there. If you learn something from it, so much the better, but i dare say it was your own deep thinking mind at work.

This is highly amusing and sad to me, for I've always prayed for a cure of my self-ambition and pride, and now I've got it. How can i be ambitious when i know I'm no good? It's a good step to humility, though it isn't pleasant, but by and by i suppose it will be.

This isn't the only lesson I've learnt this year, but I'm off to bury my head in mathematics, it'd be much more useful than crapping here. Another time perhaps. Sorry if this post sounds a bit hurried, but i guess i just like it all out of my system quickly, and well, i don't know what else to say; i'm feeling a bit embarrassed and stupid, actually.

All the best to SPM and STPM students! You'll get through all right, i know.

Rindu ke?

Four days holiday…with minimum homework and no more exams. Yayness.

I guess I can really blog about myself now. I haven’t been doing that, sorry.

Yesterday, I did an assessment on my personality. My entire youth group has been going crazy over it; they all know whether they’re a choleric or sanguine and all that. I didn’t take the test then, so I had no idea what my personality is. I know now though. JCG people who read my blog would be so darn excited. Though I believe they’ve guessed my personality right.

I’m a combination- melancholic and phlegmatic.

Oh wow, I’m a depressed, moody, sensitive nut! I can go be part of the Twilight circus now. (Carolyn-care to join me? LOL)

Why am I telling you this? Good question. But this is to show you the potent power of peer pressure. The youth group has been going on about it for months, and I never found it that big a fuss (that’s the phlegmatic attitude for you). And today, I finally got up and took the trouble to do it because everyone has done it. Well, if they all decide to jump off the cliff someday, I suppose I would move my phlegmatic butt months later to do the same (and is this the pessimist part?).

An educational experience though. I think I enjoyed knowing it. I wonder what happens in the future-would my personality change again? Only time would tell.

About lower six life. I’ve been writing bits and pieces of it when I was free. I suppose, the only way to actually put it all together for myself is to promise you that I’ll post it here. Phlegmatic-ness. You must understand…ha-ha. Ok, I can’t use that lame excuse. I don’t want to be a lazy bum, so I’ll make sure my brains continue to work by combining and summarizing all I’ve written.

I hope I don’t procrastinate, that is both the melancholic and phlegmatic weakness (I’m pushing this too far, no?).

BTW, I really like to thank all of you who have commented on my work here. There’s a reason why I post them up – it is to know what you think about it, how you reacted to it. How did it make you feel? So I love it when you reply. I’ll admit this to you – sometimes I’ve no idea what I’m writing. By you sharing your thoughts, I look at it again in a new light, and I enjoy learning from you. I’d appreciate it more when you tell me why you thought that way. Especially if you hate it – because that means I need improvement. I think I show greater enthusiasm when you disagree, for you will give me a completely different perspective.

Go ahead, love me or hate me. I will be your student.

Happy Deepavali to all who celebrate it…and who doesn’t celebrate the festival of lights? We all need the one true Light of the World.

Shoutout to Priya- I miss your lightsaber!!! Come back soon? And how’s Henry? Or Darcy? =) Also to my adopted salmon mother- the filial adopted daughter (who used to be a salmon too, for the wrong reasons) awaits. I miss you too.

Adieu…

The Failure

There was a still silence as it was dragged in, its hair bedraggled, its face haggard from the lack of sleep. Everyone stared at it accusingly, but with a smile on their faces.

“You are here, my dear one, because you have failed,” the Judge spoke gently, as if to a wayward child, but his smile was thin and hard. “You are here, because you have not done enough. Do you not think so?”

“But-but-..” it whispered.

“Silence,” he smiled at it again, but there was now a slight narrowing of his eyes. “I see that you do not agree. Very well,” he turned to the crowd. “You may speak against it.”

A woman stood up. Her clothes were immaculately clean and well-pressed, her hair neat and in order. Everything about her showed Perfection.

“The condemned,” she spoke gently. “It has not been what it should be. It has not been doing what is expected of it. It is expected to listen to me, to do as I ask, and it has not. It is not Perfect.” She sat down again smoothly.

“Indeed, it is as you have said.” exclaimed another man, who was as Perfect as Perfection. “Excuse my interruption, my honour, but it has not met up to what I’ve come to expect it to be. It is not what I desire it to be. It has not been in absolute Perfection. It has not lived up to the demands of our nation. I’m afraid it has committed treason.”

“So I see.” The Judge nodded calmly. “It has truly gone out of line. Nevertheless, we will hear more.” He nodded once more.

“It has not done what has been required of it.” Yet another lady said as she stood. “We are who we are, for we do what we should do. It has not done so. It has failed in its responsibilities that I’ve given it. It has not been a success. It has not been what it has been desired to be. My requirement is to speak of it this way – it is not part of our Perfection.”

The Judge nodded again, and many nodded along with him, their heads in perfect unison. They turned to the pathetic creature again.

“You have failed. You have been expected of things, and you have not fulfilled them. You have broken the law-you have not done what is required of you. You have not been what we are. You are therefore, a traitor. You are not Perfect.” The Judge announced with solemn dignity.

“You have now two choices- be Perfect, or cease to be.”

“That is your sentence. That is what is required of you. Decide, and fulfill your requirement. With this, you shall prove to be Perfect.”

It gave a low cry, and stood.

“What is it that you want from ME? I gave you the best I have. You-you-you-” it pointed an arm out at those who had spoken, their perfect faces flinched and glared, “You all want something from me. You all want me to be someone else, to be Perfect. Can’t I be myself? Can’t I be given the chance to be who I am?”

The people stared in shock. The silence was deafening, accusing. No one knew what to say. No one, except it.

“I am falsely accused! You who sit there, absolute Perfection, are nothing more but a clone! You are nothing, you are only what is required of you. You are not yourself. What about the expectations you have towards yourself? Have you fulfilled that? I can see you haven’t! You are Failures too then, for you have failed yourself. Selfish, selfish ones! You only want your expectations to be met. What of my expectations? What of my requirements towards you?”

“You are in no position to speak of your expectations, Failure,” spat the Judge, his face an angry mask, exactly like the sea of faces surrounding the condemned. “We have our requirements to fulfill, and we have done so perfectly. YOU have failed. Your expectations do not matter.”

“Oh, and will it matter?” laughed the Failure hysterically. “It will never matter, even if I become Perfect. Hypocrites, that’s what you are. You expect of others, but you are not perfect yourselves. You sit here, staring at me as if I’m an alien, but I tell you, WE-ARE-THE-SAME. That frightens you, doesn’t it?” it laughed again, then groaned as a stone grazed its ear.

“You FAILURE! There are many more of these vermin around!” screamed the man who threw it from the crowd, his face twisted into a monster’s. “There are Failures, Failures everywhere! This liar is one of them! How dare it speak against us! How dare it judge us, it who has Failed! We must fulfill our requirements, to ensure that we have no Failures, like this worm!”

“Tell me, my fellow Failure,” it said coldly. “My people whom were once like you, before your ‘requirements’ were to rule us, who stood here as I have, did they not expect something from YOU? Have you met that requirement? It is only because of your new Laws, that you can stand there and judge me. Your Laws are a lie to yourselves. The requirement that you have set for yourselves are only to oppress. You have failed OUR requirements. You have not met OUR desires. We desire nothing, nothing but to be ourselves. Why should we live in your cold ‘Perfection’? You have robbed it of what it should be, Failure.”

The crowd howled at it in rage and fury, the noise breaking like a tidal wave. Their faces turned into the dark, their perfect features marred by their anger. They screamed at it, shook their fists at it. The hate on their face was clear for all to see. They rushed forward and struck it. They clamored over it as hungry dogs over a dry bone. And as they attacked it, it seemed though their faces were as haggard as its eyes, their hair and eyes as wild as it was. There seemed to be no difference.

They finally drew back from the condemned, their faces slowly returning to their normal Perfection, composed, triumphant.

The Judge rose from his seat. He looked at the still, bloody mess before him. Then he spoke, perfectly.

“The Failure has been condemned. It shall be heard of no more. It has never existed, it has never lived. Our Perfection remains.”

But they did not know that it, the Failure, lives on, in every one of their faces. Their Perfection had been taken away, by their on hand.

…honestly, I do not know what I mean here. Go figure. Then let me know. =)

The dancing lady

Dance, lady

Dance your sorrows away

Smile and laugh

Leap and twirl

No one shall know your pain.

Dance, lady

Let the tear fall

from your pretty face

down your ruby lips

Taste the salt and smile.

Dance, lady

Let the swishing skirts

the ringing bells

Hide the breaking heart

No one shall know your pain.

Dance, lady. Dance.

(Note: this was spontaneously done...born from an observation and penned by a desire to ...comfort) As usual, no copy and paste. =)

Sweet! Sweet!

Yeah, it’s been awhile.

The makings of a perfect weekend have just begun. First off, I finally got to play around in the kitchen. I made jam-Mulberry jam. What berry?

This:

Yes, we grow that in our garden. In fact, it’s the only plant that’s really thriving in our place; which is rather ironic because it’s not a local plant. What, we kill out starfruits but the mulberries survive?? Strange world.

Anyway, the tradition is, Arnan plants and trims the mulberry plants, I pick the berries and make the jam. The last time I made jam, it ended up in a very very sweet syrup, due to the lack of pectin. According to a recipe I found on the internet, we don’t need pectin, but somehow it just didn’t work out. Why didn’t I use pectin last time? Because we couldn’t find any. No one here seems to sell it. And we were having boxes upon boxes of mulberries in our fridge so….well we had to do something before they all grow rotten.

But this time, I have pectin thanks to Uncle Chin Keong who came back from Canada. So everything was just so much easier.

First, I had to defrost the berries (cause we have been stocking them up in the freezer)

Then, grind (well, I blended la). It ended up looking like human liver mushed up, all blood-red and well, mushy. Modern cannibalism, anyone?

For cannibal babies: cooked missionary!(a twist on a joke I heard…please, no offense!)

Making jam requires lot of sugar (seven cups!!)…I mean, patience. You need to stir, and stir, and stir, and…stir some more.

Rolling boil, this. Hot sangat…….*sweats*

The end product looked like blood……..uh oh. Vampire season here….not a good time to talk about blood. =P

The whole jam making was based on guess work, so hopefully I guessed right. There was one part of the instruction that rather baffled me, which was to seal the bottles with paraffin wax. I suppose it’s to keep air out, but where do I get paraffin wax?? Should I use masking tape? My mom pooh-ed the idea. “Your uncle didn’t do anything of a sort.” And apparently, Canadians are always right. *shrugs* Managed to make......er,four to five jars. I forgot.

Have to wait for a few days to let the jam set, so I’d only know whether I did it right later on. Hopefully…..=)

The best part: Licking the pot.

Yes, the WHOLE pot.O.o Went on a slight sugar high after that. I tend to go a bit wild when I have too much sugar. No, I’m not hyperactive…but my thoughts go a bit crazy. Which is probably helpful as I need to produce a script out from nothing (sigh) in two days.

Mulberry jam is the best thing ever! It makes me feel so…up! So gleeful. Wheeeeeeeee! And with a splash of peculiar. A splash? Nevermind.

If I were Prime Minister, I’d issue a decree that every household must have a jar of mulberry jam. It’d increase productivity and satisfaction, I tell you.

So sorry that I can’t give you all some…but the mulberry plants outside are blooming like crazy again…and I have loads of pectin now, so I think another jam making session will be coming soon. Anyone wants to join me? =)

Oh, the rest of the lovely weekend is this: probably going to watch Inception with my S’ban friends tomorrow morning, going to SJ for family dinner at night, and maybe on Sunday meet up with d’na folk. At the moment, all this is rather tentative (‘cept the dinner), but so what? It’s good to be optimistic (wow, this jam is really having an effect on me). Friends, family, jam…mmmm…what more could one ask for? A…book? Hey, I have a new book to read too. Haha.. Writing that script would probably be rather enjoyable too. Yum.

Thank God for fantastic weekends. And mulberry jam, of course.

RIP shoes...this is real random.

My shoes are officially...busted. The strap broke at church today.

As you can see, i keep my shoes for a very very very very very long time...notice the uh, peeling of the soles. But i liked them lots cuz they weren't slippery, which is a very good thing for a clutz like me as i can fall down on an even floor. Also, i have such a difficult time finding shoes that i like, so i tend to keep them longer. I don't just pick the latest fashion and all that. It has to fulfill all sorts of criteria. Ask my family and they'd tell you how many shops it'd take to find me a proper shoe.

I think i kept them for what, three years? Not bad for an RM10.00 pasar malam quality shoe. Rather good bargain actually. Though of course most ppl don't wear their shoes for this long.

I'd miss it..i don't think they sell this style anymore..ha.

Randomness abounds. Sorry. Back to homework.

Oh, and i prefer my old blogskin. Unfortunately, i can't change it back. Some updating on Blogger and such. ah well. this isn't too bad.

this isn't my fault!!

Frustrating is the word.

Right now, I have three stories and of course, the blog posts you have been waiting for bouncing in my head. Yes, bouncing. For the past three weeks, they have been pestering me. “Write me! Write me!” and all that. And I can’t can’t can’t CAN’T write any of them because………..

PENGAJIAN AM ASSIGNMENT.

I hate you….*snarls*

Ok, no, I don’t. But I just turn the “evil eye” on anything that stops me writing. Which would include Maths, Chemistry and tuition homework.

Or maybe I should turn the “evil eye” at myself. Because I’m the one making myself sit down and do homework right?

But what do you expect me to do, NOT do my homework?

*pauses to contemplate*

Impossible. Ah, sweet discipline. Aren’t you all so PROUD of me? Ugh.

And so the stories continue to bounce. ARGH. And the “evil eye” continues to glare at every annoying thing in sight.

Maybe I should just give up, and my PA teacher would be oh so glad to know that he’s right about me. Oh you don’t know about that? You don’t want to know.

Ah, back to my assignment.

d'NA re-u ..tomorrow! =)…ah no….can’t do homework then…three days gone! Haih…I’m DOOMED.

*evil eye-s the computer screen* *sighs and types*

Keganasan antarabangsa merupakan penggunaan cara zalim Hannah Koh untuk memusnahkan projek Pengajian Am yang perlu dihantarkan selepas cuti sekolah.

My BM sucks. Er…for those who are guessing…my topic for my assignment is terrorism. Yep. Ironic, considering my birthday is well, very terrorist-like. Ha.

Yes, I am going to do my assignment NOW. Fare thee well….

*sniffs*

Do you realize, that I can’t READ either?? AUGH. ><

Ok, ok, I’m really going now….

*Slowly steps out of cyberspace (gosh, I’m so melodramatic)*

haiz haih haih

hey. i can't write. yet.

just busy now...suddenly so many things cropped up! Though i suppose you're wndering why i still hv time to go online...haha.

this is more of a shoutout to gabrielle..........never saw a comment that was one sentence yet with wat...6 lines????

haha

c ya.

busy

so sorry i can't write abt the NZ trip. I'm sure most of you are wondering what happened and aren't too happy with my extremely "satisfactory" replies of ok, fine or great.

hopefully i can type something out this weekend but currently i've got a lot (i think...a hundred plus) of math questions overdue, and i got pengajian am work, and i want to rewrite my chem and PA notes cuz they're so awful. And i want to study and catch up with what i've missed during the trip because i feel very very stupid now.

I'm really really sorry.

F6 is ok, getting used to it, but still a struggle. Write more later.

Haih. Got to go. How's everyone else?

little girl's dream, big girl's choice..

Wanted to write the way i felt about things...but it was somehow difficult. So I did the way i knew best-story form. It's a bit messy and..strange, and maybe a bit emotional, but i think it serves the purpose. i think.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. This little girl dreamt dreams, read books, looked at the world around her and thought a very big-girl thought:

“The world seems to be a very sad place. I wish I can change it.”

One Sunday, her teacher taught her about the twelve Disciples, great men who served the King. The teacher told her that these men were all very ordinary people, just like her.

“And do you know what they did?” the teacher asked. When no answer came, he took a miniature globe and turned it upside down. “That’s what they did.”

The little girl’s eyes bulged. “They really did that?”

“Yes, and you can too; if you believe and trust in the King.”

The little girl thought of nothing but that, dreamt of nothing but that, and holding the globe that the teacher gave her, decided that she would do such a thing. When she grew up, she would change the world.

Year after year, she slowly grew stronger and wiser. She learned many lessons, and made many mistakes. She learned that in order to change the world, she must first change herself for the better. So everyday she worked her hardest to be a better person. She learned that to change the world, she must first bring change to the people and places closest to her. She made friends, and met people who helped her grow. She fought of her inner demons, and strived to be all that the King wanted her to be. She succeeded, she failed, she tried again, and kept going. It was difficult, and it was a struggle, but everyday she knew that she was closer to changing the world.

No longer a little girl now, the big girl turned and looked behind at all she had done. Then she turned at looked ahead at all that was still before her. She smiled as she pictured herself going across the seas, helping various unknowns, becoming great and doing great things for her King. She saw herself so clearly as one who would change the world with the talents she had honed. She couldn’t wait to change the world.

But then an evil hag came out and showed her the old globe given to her by the teacher so long ago. “Look at it!” it cackled. The girl looked, and saw that the world was worse than before. She saw that it had become a darker, sadder place. She saw countries torn apart by strife, governments ruled by corrupt men, children dying from diseases. She saw how big and horrible the world was, and though she was a big girl, she felt small and afraid. The darkness of the world laughed at her.

“You’re just a fool, just a fool to believe you can change the world”

The girl was so unhappy that all she had worked for would be in vain. She sat down and cried bitterly. “How could this happen?” She whispered to the heavens.

“The world’s so big; it could break your heart.

And you just want to help, but not sure where to start.

So you close your eyes and send up a prayer into the dark.”

Then suddenly the King came and comforted her. “All you’ve done in My name, you’ve done well indeed. I’ve seen you grow, I’ve seen you change, and I am proud of you. But I want you to stay here, and not go across the seas, not yet.”

“Is it because I’m not good enough?” The girl asked fearfully.

“Not at all,” the King smiled. “It’s because you will be better here.”

“What then am I supposed to do?” she asked after a pause.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

The girl thought about her friends and mentors. She thought about how she loved the people who taught her, who build her up to do the great things she had wanted to do. She thought about her old teacher, who planted the seed of inspiration in her. And then she thought, “How much these teachers are needed! How few are there around, who can really build up little girls to become big girls to do great things for the King.”

“But I’d have to give up so much! I can no longer achieve the dreams I dreamed, or do the great things I wanted to do. I can no longer go out and change the world. I have to stay and be…ordinary.”

“And yet, is this ordinary? Building, training young minds to do all the great things that they want to do? Is raising up the next generation of big boys and girls an ordinary thing?”

The girl sat, and thought some more. Then she smiled as tears fell from her face, for she was sad yet happy at the same time.

“So that’s what it is, no? I stay here, and become the one who helps the little people become the big people who change the world. I stay?”

She wiped her eyes and turned questioningly to the King, but He was gone. In His place sat a little boy, crying as if his heart was broken.

“Little boy, why do you cry?”

“Because…I c-can’t do my n-numberrrs….”

The big girl smiled. “I think I can teach you that.”

And so the girl stayed. The road may be harder and darker for her now, and it was an unknown path that she never thought she would take, but take it she would, and she could only hope that she ‘tried to do right’.”

“Oh the smallest thing can make all the difference.

Love is alive, don’t listen to ‘em when they say

You’re just a fool, just a fool to believe you can change the world.”

Indecisive, or cautious?

I’ve realized that I’m indecisive.

Take this as an example: I was invited out for an outing with my friends today. Most people would have given a “yes” or a “no” quite immediately. I took the whole day. Why?

My first reaction was a no, for reasons that you’d soon see below. However, I changed my mind around 10p.m. So I asked around and soon transportation wasn’t a problem. So I considered it for a bit longer, and decided I would go. Now, I turned to my parents for permission.

For those who don’t understand how my mind works (which makes all of you), I only ask for parental approval AFTER I’ve approved of it myself. For me, I feel that if I don’t want it, why ask? However, this form of decision making isn’t that effective because if my parents should disapprove, I’d be disappointed simply as I’ve already decided on going. And most of the time their immediate reaction to my disappointment is annoyance as they feel that I simply want my way. Which is true of course, but … not quite so true either as I’d felt that I’ve made a careful decision. It’s complicated.

Anyway, my parents were reluctant to approve. Scratch that. They disapproved. Scratch that again. It wasn’t parents, it was parent- my mom. My dad doesn’t really mind. But they disapprove everything the first time they hear it so…well. But in the end she approved, only because my face would be “a mile long” the next day if they didn’t. Which led me to feel annoyed because I’m not that petty. Which then led me to want to not go to prove to her that I can go around without that “a mile long” face. Which then led me to think who am I really thinking of when I make these decisions-myself? My friends? My family?

And thus here I am, at around 1 in the morning, trying to decide on whether I should go on a simple outing with friends. I made a list on why I should go for the outing:

1. It’s been awhile since I’ve been with my friends, and it’s going to be increasingly more difficult to get together next time.
2. This is different from the normal activities that I’m usually tied to (help mom, go PBS, go online, cook, sleep). I’m getting a bit tired of the mediocrity.
3. It is getting noisy in the house. I’m beginning to lose it.
4. Unlike the normal outings, we’re not going to watch a movie or such. So, not much money is going to be spent/wasted.
5. I can have the rare opportunity to buy books from MPH, and also a few gifts for birthdays that are coming. Ooh, and Mother’s day is coming up isn’t it?
6. I’m not doing the things that I want to do, so there’s really no point in staying at home saying that I would do them when I don’t. I might just be so panicky/inspired when I come back that I may actually start doing them.
7. I already have parental approval (albeit reluctantly).

To be fair, I did another list on why I shouldn’t go:

1. It actually has not been awhile since I’ve seen my friends. I saw quite a number of them during gala, and the last time we had the usual movie outing was in March. And it isn’t impossible to get together sometime in September or December or something.
2. Although it is a break from the norm, it may still be a waste of time as compared to helping mom, going PBS, going online, cook and sleep.
3. It is noisy in the house. I should try to help mom tolerate it.
4. We’re going to go Jusco, so either way money is going to be spent/wasted.
5. Buy books? When I don’t even have an allowance? Am I crazy? (ok, that was a rhetorical question)
6. I’m not doing the things that I want to do, which is EXACTLY why I should stay home and get them done, instead of blowing away another day!
7. The obtained parental approval was RELUCTANT.

It is during these frustrating hours that I just wish I didn’t join the debate team. I’m rebutting myself!

“Ok, close your eyes and pretend your parents and friends don’t exist. Which would you choose? Go or don’t go?”
“I can’t do that! My friends do exist! My parents do exist! I can’t just wipe them off! Besides, my FRIENDS invited me.”

“Fine, what would Jesus do?”

“….I don’t think He had such a petty dilemma.”

Yes, I need to get a life.

Finally, I decided to not go based on these points: “Must I go for everything my friends invite me to?” and “I do have things that I want done, even if I don’t get them done, at least I’ve once again, pathetically tried to get them done.” So I sent the host of the event an apology note to say I won’t be coming.

Then, I found that since this was such a frustrating situation, it would be somehow fun for me to post this for your entertainment.

But now, after writing this whole thing out, I’ve changed my mind yet again, based on these points: “I don’t go for everything my friends invite me to, just those that I find sensible (well, ok, not exactly sensible..we’re not the sensible type) and convenient (transport provided, no fuss involved, etc.) and “They’re friends! I helping in the chores everyday, I don’t think I should feel guilty when I take a day off to let loose” and “Again, I’m not getting what I want done anyway”. More importantly, I’ve just realized-Mothers’ Day IS next week.

Hence, the motion that this house believes that Hannah should go for her friends’ outing tomorrow is approved.

Observe, that this was just a simple decision. Now, think about the times I had to decide whether to do arts or science stream, or signing up to be a prefect (as I recall, I took a year to decide since the offer at Form 1), or deciding to go into education. Don’t you think I make life difficult for myself?

I admit, I think too much. Unfortunately, I think about the petty things more that what’s really important. But I would ponder on this some other time. Now, I need to sleep. And message the organizer once AGAIN to tell him I’m going.

Later the next morning, I decided not to go for the picnic, BUT to join them at jusco after helping out at PBS. Which pleased my mom, my friends and myself (I went on a shopping spree for books! ^^). So perhaps, this isn’t being fickle-minded, but being extremely careful and thoughtful?

Yeah right. I kid myself.

Anyway, you now have a long post about my funny life, instead of stories eh? Enjoy. I think.

Perfect Strangers

I charged up the stairs as the noise above told me what I already knew: I was late. Chagrin swept over me-didn’t I commit myself to be earlier for this?

I reached the meeting area, and scanned the room for an empty seat. Everyone was on their feet-the games had started. I continued surveying the room, trying to find an avenue to blend in.

That’s when I saw you.

It was only for a second before the sea of other faces swallowed up your face again, but it inexplicably attracted my instant attention. I knew I was going to be rudely staring at you for the rest of the day. And I was right. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. All throughout the meeting, and even when we headed down for refreshments later, I stole as many glances as I could, examining your face, observing and analyzing your every reaction.

Who are you? I thought to myself. I was embarrassed and ashamed. This would be the third time something like this has happened. I’m beginning to be such an immature girl, with selfish thoughts and ridiculous hopes. However at the same time I was hopelessly curious about this new being that caught my attention so effortlessly. What draws me to you? Is it your smile? Your laugh? The way you fill up the room and make conversations with strangers with absolute ease? At any rate, you have succeeded in intriguing me with your personality. More importantly, I am filled with the overwhelming presumption that I should know you. That I have met you somewhere, talked to you before. You are unbearably familiar. Why?

I smile to myself as I recall the other times when I was hopelessly caught up with perfect strangers just like you. Strangers, who for some reason, catch my eye before I even know their name. I hear you introduce yourself to other enthusiastic girls, who unlike me, know how to deal with a catch when they see one. But in my eyes you are not just a catch. This is more than just teenage hormones. At least I think so. I don’t think the other young girls feel the same pull I have for you. This more of feeling...like you are a kindred spirit, like there's something only both of us would understand.

Samuel, you reply. That’s a nice strong name. But it eliminates any notion that I’ve met you before. Then again, people change, right? So Samuel what? What’s your name? Who are you, really?

Then I think to myself, shouldn’t I ask? Why not? I’ve been staring like a stalker at you for the past two hours, have you noticed me yet? Have you realized what a freak I am? Or are you completely oblivious at how you have transformed the entire afternoon for me? I don’t blame you. Compared to the other people you’ve met, I’m certain I’m just plain...well, plain to you. And yet, still, I plot in my mind. Maybe I could just step in line with the rest of the other hopeful girls, wait for my turn to introduce myself. Maybe I’ll ask for a phone number I would never call, an email address that I would never use. But that wouldn’t be right. I wanted more than just an introduction; I wanted a conversation with you. I wanted to know everything about you. Sadly, I don’t have the guts. I’m less than these other hopefuls around me, because immature as they are, at least the have the courage to step up and face you, be it for the wrong motives. I, however, am a pathetic coward.

So I sit, and I plan without action, and stare, wishing you would stare back, dreading that you would. I sit and wonder what you’re thinking, when your friend slaps your back, when this girl giggles at her good fortune of being right in front of you. I sit and watch, taking as much of you in as I can.

All too soon, it is time for you to go. I step outside, away from the noise, trying to rearrange my incoherent thoughts. And suddenly, you’re here right next to me, talking to your friend, asking which car you’re going back in. Here you are, giving me one last chance to know your name, and more perhaps.

My one last chance to do something, to act towards this instinct that I have for you, to change this ending that is so similar to the few that I’ve had.

I reach out my hand, and stretch it slowly, slowly towards you. I pause, and take in a breath.

And then I let you go. You turn away, leaving a gust of breeze in your wake.

I follow you with my eyes as you drive away, disappearing out of my life forever. I smile to myself sadly.

Many girls have told me about their numerous occasions of being attracted to random, so called “hot” (what a teenage word!) boys. I, on the other hand, have only had this twice so far in my life. Whether it is a blessing or a curse, I do not know. All I know is, it is better for me and for you to let it go. To let you go. Because, for some reason, I know I’m not ready. Not ready for you, or for anyone else just yet. It would be terribly selfish of me to hurt you just to get instant gratification. It would be wrong for me to act on a whim and so have the risk of letting you down, and hating myself in the process.

I could easily convince myself that all I want is to know you, but I know how little control and prudence I would have as time goes by, as my romantic imaginations get the better of me. No, it is better this way, to have a clean slate, to not complicate things, to avoid playing with temptation. Is it me being ridiculous and rejecting love at first sight? I don’t think so. Firstly because I don’t think this is love at all, and secondly what I want most is to keep people I care about (whether I know them or not) safe. And where this would head is definitely not safe. Is it my conscience? I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that it’s me being wise. That I’d not regret this decision. And I don’t think I do.

Still, this would be one of those big what-ifs I have in my life. But, because I care about you, would I have it any other way?

You are a perfect stranger. I think it's best to leave it that way.

Hear my song

i play my song
my simple song
for the world to hear

it's not a symphony
it's just a simple melody
for the world to hear

but can you hear me
can you hear me play?
do you believe me
and this song i play?

this is the song of my heart
my desire
just to lay my life
on the alter
to bring Him praise
to lift up His name
so the world may hear
of Him alone

i wish i can play
a better song
for the world to hear

i wish i can play
a perfect song
for the world to hear

but all my mistakes
create something beautiful
can you hear me play
my simple song?

this is the song of my heart
my desire
just to lay my life
on the alter
to bring Him praise
to lift up His name
so the world may hear
of Him alone

Can you hear me play?
can you hear my song?
the simple song i've been given
by the Maker of all?

this is the song of my heart
my desire
just to lay my life
on the alter
to bring Him praise
to lift up His name
so the world may hear
of Him alone

I just want the world
to hear
the song Jesus gave me.

-let me be a sweet, sweet sound in Your ear, Lord..-

Uh oh.

My JPA interview's tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect.

And my blog is getting a bit crappy i think. I'm blogging this post on Tuesday, April 6th, but it shows a different date.

does anyone know how to fix that?

Holy Guitars...

Decided to check out urbandictionary.com for no reason and saw this:

air guitar:

An ancient art that originated after God wanted to rock out but had no electric guitar on hand. He realised how sweet a thing he had just created so he wanted to pass it down onto man when man had no axe to rock with. This talent was given to man, by God, through Jesus. Jesus showed the world the ineffable art of air guitar during his ressurection. Jesus was radiating with a bright white light because he was rocking so hard.

The art of the air guitar was thus written down in the Bible and succesfully passed on to man. The practice of air guitar since it's inception has been shown throughout the history of the world. Jesus is discretely air guitaring in the famous painting The Last Supper in the Galleria Borghese, Rome.

On and on has this holy tradition gone. It is kept alive by generations of rockers young and old. If you are listening to a really sweet guitar solo and you have no real guitar to emulate the action of rocking, pick up your hands, put them in position, and rock and roll all night.

Remember...rock on.

Adam was listening to Communication Breakdown by Led Zeppelin and it was nearing the kickass guitar solo. But he had no guitar. So he took matters into his own hands. He played air guitar and never stopped rocking.

What the-? XD

And this one's interesting too...

WWJT:

What Would Jesus Text

Text Messaging Etiquette - Do not pass text messages that ruin other people's reputation. Stop and think " WWJT"

~Now that's nice. WWJT indeed. One wonders...

V for Vendetta's followers

Ok, actually it's just one follower la.

Went to watch V's speech to Evey, since a friends asked me to. Which is this, for those who don't know what I'm talking about.

So below that video was this comment:
SolidSnakeRules: Perfect! Powerful Protagonists' Pontification Pertaining to Peacebringing shall be Preserved Permanently Posthaste. People lack Patience; Pioneers Possess this Predisposition Particularly. If I may Peruse and Perhaps Partake in Participation Personally, I Propose Poison as Proper Procedure for Penalizing and Punishing the Perpetrators of Perfunctory Propaganda Portraying a Pathetic Personification of Power Plaguing our once Prolific and Prosperous Population. I am P, and Playtime has Passed.

So ingenious! So fun to read stuff like that.

No, I'm not going to start writing like that. I will not embarrass myself.

Back to applications...I guess.

Oh and for those who don't know, I'm not at NS typing this. I got exempted. Yup, the shorn sheep is still around. ><

Good day, all.

phoeey

Random announcement 1:

Just had an on-the-phone conversation with a friend of mine..apparently he thought I was applying for law.

Law. Me. Plearrrrrrghh.

Since when did LAW and me ever work??

Oh and he thinks I complicate things. For example, when I assure him that he's not dumb, I'd go:

"You are nowhere near dumb. Your character is anything but dumb. You can never be linked or described with the word dumb or any of its synonyms."

Something along those lines la. But that's complicated meh? I'm just defending my statement. And trying to make conversation. It's better than saying "You're not dumb!" a bazillion times anyway. I wonder why smart people around me tell me that they're dumb. It makes me feel stupid ok! If you who are a genius think you're dumb, what does that make me? Super Dumb? Pish.

Random announcement 2:

I passed my driving. Hah. Who knew.

To all who prayed for me, thanks a lot. You have no idea how much I needed it (then again maybe you do).

So I officially have a licence to kill. Heh.

Random announcement 3:

American Idol isn't so fun anymore. There's no fantastic magic like David Arch and Cook or Kris or even Adam. I'm not watching it with as much devotion as before...which makes me feel guilty. Guilty, because I was once a fan, and guilty that I had so much devotion in the first place.

Ah, what the heck. I'd probably still watch.

Now, to those who still think I'm doing law or journalism or politics or marine biology or plastic surgery or sanitary engineering, i should tell you this:

Not happening la. I'm applying for courses with teaching in mind.

Next major event: NS!!

Yeah, I decided to go after all. Whoopee.

I've been deployed to Hutan Rekreasi Ayer Keroh, Melaka.

So I'll be disappearing soon. Do pray that I'll do alright.

Oh and I need to cut my hair. Should I chop it all off ala primary school?

Apparently, I look like a lawyer like that.

Oh, bla-ha-ha as Grover would say (Percy Jackson and the Olympians).

Cheerio.

Oh and if you're wondering what's sanitary engineering, according to my genius friend who thinks he's dumb ( or at least that's what i deduced), it simply means that you're a rubbish collector. Cool, no?

Passing Time

Reading is fun.

Ok, so you know that I know that. No wait, you know that for me that's an understatement.

I meant, reading with a dictionary on one side and my f5 vocab book (yes i still keep that book) with a pen on the other is a lot more..... satisfying? Edifying? Whatever. It's colossal fun.

Yes I'm insane. Don't look at me like that. I know.

but...seriously..try it.

brain damage alert!

Yesterday I was writing a bit and i realized I couldn't spell unbelievable. I did spell it right but...I wasn't confident.

Then i forgot how to spell bizarre. AHHH!!!

I need to read the dictionary again. And write more. Going back to study soon so must get brain back into shape.

Suddenly I feel unworthy of my results...how can i forget how to spell simple English words???

And my BM is so hot either. Uh oh.

....i think i need to study la...or look through.

beyond.....

Beyond expectations.

Beyond boundaries.

Simply unbelievable.

Thank God....that really just can't cover it. I'm amazed at His grace.

...living a dream...

The Match

It was the peak of summer. The heat was oppressive, as if you were swallowing hot water with every breath. The sun threw its bright, hot rays down to the earth mercilessly. There wasn't a single whisper of breeze to bring relief from the scorching heat.

The forest was dry and a tense silence was in the air. The trees stood straight and rigid. Not a single leaf fluttered. Not a single blade of grass stirred. Not a single creature dared to leave its home. The only creature that had the courage to defy the unrelenting weather was the eagle soaring in the sky. He was the king of the forest.

At the edge of the forest stood a house. It was quaint and neat, with white paint on the walls and a small bed of flowers decorating the porch. It was a symbol of civilisation.

_____________________________________________________________________

Two boys scuttled to the backyard of the house, glancing over their shoulders with a mixture of fear and excitement. The house wasn't their home; they never had one. They were street urchins.

The older one was clutching a box of matches, their newest play thing. They had stolen it from a grocery store.

Together they squatted in the dirt, and began to strike one match after another. The flash of light and the wisps of smoke increased their excitement. They felt like wizards, playing with the dangerous, the mysterious; producing fire with the snap of the finger. They giggled, oblivious to their surroundings, and how the forest seemed to be leaning towards them, edging closer........
_____________________________________________________________________

Old Dan was the only living creature in the house. He sat on an old stuffed armchair. His arms were folded across his chest, his eyes half closed, lost in his memories.

The inside of the house was as simple and neat as the outside. The walls were white and bare, save for a few faded photographs and his display of badges. He was a soldier once, who earned his fair share of badges and scars. He hid them both as well as he could, but Sophie found them. The scars she had wept over, the badges she framed and hung them over the mantelpiece. He had argued with her over that. After all, what's the point of rewarding a man for surviving?

“It's ridiculous,” he had added with a growl, “glorifying the worst and most inhumane acts in the world…that's what those badges are.”

“Then let them be a reminder to you about that.”

“Besides,” she had added as she turned around to face him with a smile. “A woman wants to show off her man.”

He didn't reply, but had let her decorate the wall with the badges.

He gave a quiet sigh. Sophie died three years ago. Ever since then, he had never been the same. The painful, hollow ache inside him had never lessened. Sometimes he'd catch himself standing in the kitchen, the bedroom, anywhere; just remembering the little, normal things in that part of the house. Sometimes, he thought he could actually see her. And then the vision would fall apart and fade away, reminding him of the emptiness in his soul.

Even his physical self had been affected. He could no longer march briskly; instead he shuffled with weary feet. His usual morning trek through the forest was reduced to just trudging up and down the stairs to grease the old joints.

He knew he was going soon. Sophie told him as he held her hand and watched her breathe her last. That he will soon have eternal summers with her. He wanted to go with her then. But she asked him to wait. “Patience rewards twice. Once, while waiting; and once again when waiting is no longer needed.”

He felt like a man waiting for the train to arrive. Now, despite the pain in his heart, he was content to sit and wait, lost in memories.

Sounds of giggling floated in. He pricked his ears. Those were not from his memories. Opening his eyes, he heaved himself off the armchair and headed out to the backyard.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Let me have a turn, Ben. It's my turn!” The younger boy whined.

The older one complied. The younger boy grabbed the matchbox, took out a match, and struck it. He gave a whoop as the flame leapt up and slowly climbed down to the end of the stick. They watch, entranced by the magic.

“Hey!”

A gruff, old voice jolted the boys out from their trance. They gave a yelp, threw down the match into the pile of burnt matches, and ran for their lives without a backward glance.

____________________________________________________________________

Old Dan leaned against the door, his eyes following the ragged boys who were running like the wind. He chided himself. He knew what Sophie would have done. She would have taken the boys in, given them a bath and her famous, double chocolate-chip and nut cookies.

Him? He would just say “hey!”. He shook his head. He took a step forward. What were they doing out there? He felt like investigating, but the heat made him turn back to the house instead.

Inside, he surveyed his surroundings. The books on the shelves, the tablecloth at the perfect angle, the exact placing of the table lamp. He never had been a neat freak himself, but something compelled him to keep everything in the exact way Sophie had wanted. It was as if Sophie's presence would be there if it was so. Even now, if he allowed himself, he would be able to hear her humming and smell her cookies baking.

His eyes focused on an old tattered box on a shelf. The box was old and worn, and the things were unimportant to any other person. But it was almost everything in his life. A carefully folded old wedding dress, a photo album, Sophie's diaries and their love letters. It was all Dan's life with Sophie. It was the only thing he would take with him if he needed to run.

If he wanted to run.

He knew that it was during this time of the year that a forest fire was most likely; when his house will be most at risk. He could tell from the dryness in the air, the stillness of the wood. He knew his house wouldn't be able to stand the heat. He knew he would die if he stayed in a burning house.

He sat down slowly. He didn’t know if he wanted to live.

____________________________________________________________________

The flame seemed to have died when the match fell into the pile. The forest heaved a sigh of relief. Then the flame burst forth again. It burned, and the pile of matches lit up. A sudden breeze swept by. The gentle fire danced in the breeze and caught onto the dry grass on the forest floor. The dance began to grow wild, and tongues of flame leapt to the dance, embracing the branches of a tree.

The gentle fire became a reckless rage. The sleeping dragon awoke. It ran wild with a vengeance, licking the dry trees, setting them alight. Its growl turned into a fearsome roar. Its hunger could not be satisfied; the more it ate, the stronger and the hungrier it grew. It charged and devoured everything it saw.

The house suddenly drew the attention of this beast, and it charged at it. The white paint of the house turned black, succumbing to the intense heat. The flower bed disappeared into the flames. Smoke poured out from the dragon's nostrils; thick and black and foul. It rose slowly to the air.
The eagle circled in the sky; it looked down to see his kingdom destroyed.

____________________________________________________________________

Old Dan smelt the smoke, and then felt the intense heat. Even before he could think, his army-trained instincts drove him to immediate action.

He jumped up, ignoring the painful stab in his knee. The smell of smoke made him cough and retch. He grabbed the box without thinking and rushed out of the front door.

He hadn’t taken more than ten paces when a fresh breeze filled his lungs and he heard a voice that made his heart stop.

“Dear, tea-time!”

Sophie!

_______________________________________________________________________

“Ben! Ben! Do you see that smoke?”

The older boy was stooping and panting hard from his escape when he heard his younger friend gasp out that line.

He whirled around, and his heart turned cold when he saw the thick, black smoke.

“Wasn't that where we came from just now?” panted his friend.

Ben had no answer.

After an infinity of silence, by some unspoken agreement, they ran away from the smoke.

The box of matches laid on the road, forgotten.

____________________________________________________________________

The local fire station did not receive the call they had been waiting for the whole summer. Instead, they saw the smoke first.

Immediately the organized chaos began. The sliding down the poles, the tense silence as the men pulled on their uniforms, the wailing of the sirens. That was what they had been training for, and now they hoped they weren't too late.

One of the younger fire-fighters thought aloud. “Isn't Old Dan’s house up there in the forest?”
_____________________________________________________________________

Old Dan spun around, his heart paused, his throat constricted. He stared at the burning house with tears in his eyes, searching for the source of that voice.

“Dan? Tea-time! I've made your favourite cookies!”

He took a step towards the house, and another. The box slipped from his numb fingers. He was sweating, and it wasn't because of the heat. His body screamed out a warning, but his heart told him to go on. He took another two steps.

Sophie?

Was this really it? Was this the time he had been waiting for? He paused, and shook his head to clear it. Was this yet another hallucination, a figment of his imagination? Was it just a thread of his memories? He needed to know.

“Dan! I'm not going to tell you again!” The voice held a hint of impatience, but it was full of love and longing.

A smile broke forth from his tense features. He squared his shoulders, and marched back into the burning house.

The acrid smell of smoke turned into the tempting aroma of freshly-baked cookies, the heat was only the warmth of Sophie's arms around him, her body close to his.

The beginning of their eternal summer had begun.

Wrote it for commonwealth last year. I'm not quite sure what to think of it.

Writer's block

I want to write something..I had a line..an idea...

*cracks knuckles*

*thinks*

*trying to recall*

...

...

...

...

...

*nothing*

*bangs head on table and moans*

Be prepared for disappointment...

My crazy fantasies and cold realism are at war.

gods

The gods are selfish, he declared.

and I understood.

you can try so very hard

to appease them

but who knows when they are

satisfied?

They wreck fire and burning sulphur

their wrath shakes the earth

their wars destroys the universe

who can stand against them?

we have no power, no will, no right.

Some did try

They failed;

but we must applaud them.

for unlike other frightened mortals,

They did what They could.

Perhaps some

have succeeded.

But they passed away

remembered no more by Time.

And the gods live on

Creating and wrecking.

The gods are selfish

and we are nothing.

haha...got inspired by what Luke said in the movie Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief. It sounds lame though. What you think?

Boredom + heat = ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

I’m bored.

I’m so bored that I actually want to go shopping, which is something I hate doing because I’m picky (I went to five different shops before I finally found my recent pair of shoes) and it’s annoying. In fact, the last time I went shopping was to get my prefect farewell dress. And it was my aunt who dragged me there, not my own girlie senses. But now I WANT to shop. And not for books (I don’t have that kind of money anyway). I mean girlie shop. Like going to Jusco just to buy three pairs of dangling earrings for RM 10 that would either a) get lost, b) get tangled in my hair and annoy me to death or c) get snatched away by some desperate half-crazed snatch thief.

I’m so bored that I actually walked to STM and back just to see how long it would take. Just so you know, it took 40 minutes there and back. So I still would take the shortest time to get to DNA even if I walked. Though I wouldn’t of course. Who wants to do that with a huge bag anyway? But it would be amusing….

“Hi, this is Yoke Ling. I’m just wondering how’re you’re going to get to DNA since you did not ask for help in transport?”
“I’m walking.”
“Are you sure???”
“Oh yea it’d just take 20 minutes.”

I’m so bored that I’ve begun to take three trips to do something that could be done in just one. For example, instead of pouring a cup of water, walking to the study room to switch on the modem then only heading to the hall to turn on the computer, I take the cup of water to the comp, then switch on the modem, then go back to switch on the comp, then back again to the modem to plug in the connecting wire.

I’m so bored that instead of just shoving the whole cookie into my mouth, I bite it off slowly and contemplate why some crumbs fall off and others don’t, and why certain chocolate chips can be bitten into two while others just come right out whole. Is it physics or chemistry? Or is it simply destiny? Does God determine which crumb falls off?

I’m so bored that right now I’m thinking of various creative ways to complete this sentence “I’m so bored that…” You know, like the top ten ways to complete that sentence ala Phases.

I. Am. So. Bored.

It’s one thing to be bored. It’s another thing entirely when life is boring and HOT. Like sweltering hot. Like “my kingdom for a ice cold glass of coke” hot. At least, if it’s cool and raining outside, I can curl up with a book and a nice hot cup of coffee. When it’s hot, I do not want to curl up anywhere or with anything. Reading makes my head ache, the hall is too hot to be using the computer, and it’s too hot to bake cookies. Even trying to write something out is awful. I keep starting with “the heat was so intense that…..” and completely blur out after that. It’s too darn hot to do anything.

I hate this time of the year. Sure, sure, CNY is coming and so are all the fancy food, but the heat always takes away some of the pleasantness of such pleasures. And it does not help that I have nothing to do apart from reading. And there are only so much of books you can take. How odd of me to say that.

If I were in school now, it wouldn’t be so unpleasant. I wouldn’t be bored, and there would be no time to think about the heat. I certainly wouldn’t be thinking about crumbs and chocolate chips. I’d just shove the accursed thing into my mouth. I dislike boredom and heat. Put the two together and you have just presented torture to me.

It doesn’t help that my MP3 decided to die. And it was not because of overuse!! I gave it the month long break it deserved. Two months long, actually, since I didn’t use during SPM. Now I can’t even distract myself with Michael Buble, or try out some heavy metal for the fun of it. And without it, I can’t think of any song to try out on the piano. I was trying out Buble for awhile. Now I can’t.

The inability to drive also limits my activities. If I could drive, I could take myself to Jusco to buy Starbucks coffee for the heck of it and stare at shoppers. Or I could drive to various boutiques in town that offer a 70% discount because of the lack of customers and put them out of their misery. Or I could go buy a new MP3. But I can’t. So I’m stuck at home, watching Pandaman (which is actually quite ok…but it could just be the boredom talking) and slowly getting addicted to facebook.

I’m not entirely vegetating though. I’m helping my mom a fair bit, going to PBS as well. I’m still looking around and contemplating on getting a job. I’m doing stuff. But I’m still bored. There’s nothing to plan, nothing to organize, no one to scold (kidding). There’s nothing to study!!! Ok, I was kidding about that too. I think. I just might pull out Bio for fun.

But I am bored. And lonely too maybe. There’s no one to go Jusco with or hang out because they’re all

a) At college (kiasu people!)
b) working
c) NS
d) In some other state visiting some other people. Or they live in other states.

The irony is that I never felt the urge to go Jusco or hang out or lepak or whatever last time. I’ve finally become a teenager…. five years late. ><

Sorry about the kiasu remark. You’re not, I know. I just feel stupid. Then again I don’t think stupid is the right word.

If this keeps up, I shall become as emo as the dude who wrote Ecclesiastes!

I am bored. Hence this self-indulgent post. Enjoy. And if something doesn’t come up, this self-indulgent crap shall continue.

As time goes by

January's over???? *blinks sleepily*

Sigh. I can't believe it. I guess not being in school has caused me to lose the habit of keeping up with the days. Haha.

I have a list of books to read.......41 books to be exact. O.o And those are just the books in my house. I haven't counted those in the church library....and the ones i want to borrow...and maybe the school library again....><

I need to dig out all the stories in my head that I've neglected. Sigh. That would take some time. And a lot of discipline. Maybe if someone kept bugging me...?

Priya, my Jedi friend is BACK!!!!! Yay!! =)
uh....the Jedi thing is a long story...private joke..and a bad one. Nvmd.

That's the update la. Just being at home...helping out my mom...nothing much. Nothing exciting.

I'm sorry if that's boring to you. It kinda is to me too. Sigh.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLEMENT THE GENIUS!!!!!=)
Big boy di...........may you continue to grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and men,
And your present from me is...with me. I'll try to pass it to you ASAP. haha.

I'm hoping February would be more interesting. =)

Friends

...one of the few stories I wrote that made me feel soooooo happy...though i need to work on the dialogue...too cheesy..enjoy.=)

The cafeteria was loud and noisy, choked with bodies and heat. It was then I realized how large and overpopulated this school was, and how alone and foreign I was in that world.

At a corner stood Cedric, standing as he ate. I gave him a shy smile. Cedric was the only one who tried to make friends with me, who knew that I exist. We met in the strangest way, but it was perhaps the best way to realize how similar we were. We were victims of bullying, and we shared the same pain.

Cedric hesitated, and then slowly maneuvered his way to me. But even as he did so, Kevin stuck out his leg. They call Kevin a “jock”, though I never understood that term.

Fries, milk, and all the other food on Cedric’s tray flew in slow motion as he fell to the floor, as I watched with a sense of dread. Not again, I prayed to all the gods I knew. Please, not again. Jeers and laughter filled the room as I stood up, unsure of what to do.

“Like that, kid?” Kevin sneered as he kicked Cedric down into the mess on the floor.

Anger surged through my veins. Without realizing it, I marched across the room. “You…..stop!” I cried, wishing I could know more of this strange English language to call him some choice names.

I felt a painful grip on my arm as a boy’s face drew close to mine, reeking of tobacco and yesterday’s dinner. I struggled to find a word. “Free me…now!” I finally said, hoping that my voice wouldn’t sound as foolish as I felt.

His girlfriend leered at me over his shoulder, “They really make a pair, don’t they? One can hardly string two words together, the other can barely walk.” My face burned even as I tried to comprehend the words she spoke.

Across the cafeteria, Kevin and some other boys had grabbed hold of Cedric. “Let’s get them together, shall we? Maybe they’ll kiss!” Everybody laughed.

Kiss? I shook my head in bewilderment as I was dragged closer to Cedric, who was struggling to no avail. Everyone started pursing their lips and making sucking noises, jeering and chanting words too fast for me to grasp. But I now understood what was going to happen.

“No!” I screamed, trying to twist myself free, but the result was only a harder, tighter grip on my arm. I swung my free arm in a powerful punch, hitting my captor square in the jaw. His hand released me as he jerked a few paces back.

The laughter faded. My captor regained his balance and shoved me hard to the floor. Stars fielded my vision as I felt my head collide with a bench. I tasted blood in my mouth. My ears ceased to function and for a moment there was a sudden silence.

A warm liquid was seeping into my jeans. I opened my eyes and a mirage of colors flew by. Blinking slowly, I lifted my hand to my face. It was drenched in blood. Terror froze my heart. Was it my blood? Was I dying?

Suddenly, Cedric’s face loomed over me, eyes full of concern. He pulled at my arm and carried me to a chair.

“Are you alright?” he asked. I took a few deep breaths and nodded dumbly. That’s when I saw what he held in his hands. A gun. My vision cleared rapidly and I turned to stare back at him, a growing horror rising from within me. Did he…..?

His sweaty cold hand reached up to my face. “Wait here…I’ll be right back.” He turned and ran out of the cafeteria

I scanned what remained of the cafeteria. Overturned tables, trampled food and blood were everywhere. My ears began to work again and like a radio with the volume turned full blast, terrified screams, haunting moans and gunshots suddenly shattered the silence.

The lumps on the floor, I realized, were bodies. Dead bodies. My captor lay in a pool of blood; I could no longer see his face. It was his blood that drenched my clothes. Slowly I stood up and saw Kevin and the other boy who had held Cedric, also dead. A few others I could no longer recognize lay on the floor as well, soaked in their own blood.

Nausea rose in my throat as I turned away, heaving gasps of shock. My mind was screaming the Chinese phrase “Save life! Save life!”, but I could see that there was no one I could save in this place.My mind reeling, I tried to make sense of the unthinkable. Did Cedric do this? Why? I couldn’t understand. I wanted to run away, far away from this place, but I remained rooted to where I was. Cedric told me to wait. He would explain this. He was the only one I could trust. Maybe it wasn’t him at all, I thought to myself. And so I sat and waited.

How long I waited, I would never know. But finally he returned, the gun still in his hand, drenched in sweat.

I stumbled back a few paces, slipping in the blood. Was he going to kill me? Have I foolishly waited for my death?

“You…kill me?” I finally asked, barely able to breathe.

He looked shocked at what I had said.

“Why? You’re my friend, I wouldn’t do that.” He answered. “You’re the only one who had ever cared for me in this hellhole. Remember the first time we met? You were the only one who stood up to Kevin and his bullies for me. I’m never going to let you go.”

Slowly, I tried to make sense of his words, but only one registered with me. Friend. It had been a long time since I have heard that English word. But I remembered what it meant.

“We’re…friends?” I asked, tears flooding my eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered and took my hand as sorrow suddenly overcame us both.

Amidst the screams, the police sirens, the blood and the dead bodies, two friends sat down and cried.

Hey just reviewed my latest post and realized that there are a few corrections and add-ons I forgot to make.....haha

Firstly, I think I gave the image that I had a terrible 2009. Rest assured that it was the opposite. It was the best year ever. I'm so blessed that God used me to go beyond my boundaries. I've drawn closer to many friends, I've learnt a lot along the way, and I've changed for the better (hopefully). It was just complicated as well....too complex to explain though. Haiz. Suffice it to say that I forgot quite often about abiding in God and thus faced the consequences for it as well as the miracles that followed when I finally turned back to Him. So really, I'm okay.

Secondly, I finally found the word I wanted to find to describe my reflection thingy. It's not that I only figured the whole thing out at the end of the year. I learnt all this as I went along 2009. It was just a moment of concluding, so that I won't forget (hopefully) what I've learnt and experienced. Do you kinda get the picture now? =/

Oh and now I know why I used that Aslan to Prince Caspian quote. It's because of the line that comes after it. "Be content with that". God has made me to be here at this place for His purpose. So to Him, because of His Son Jesus, I am made worthy. Make sense?

Ahh...nevermind. If you don't, just think of it as me ranting and mumbling some nonsense. I don't mind; just wanted to explain myself to you all.

Reflections....for your benefit

Hey guys! I guess you'd realize by now that I'm officially back on the blogging wagon (which would be to the utter dismay of my parents).

Yeah well, I guess all of you might just want to hear what's going on in my life than just the stories and poems and those short cheerful updates I've been posting to appease you. But it's been a lot; and some things I'd rather keep it between myself and God.

However, you do want an update about ME. And I do owe you that much, especially to those who faithfully check on this little pilgrim's progress in life.

Well. Where to begin. Hm.

I've just been looking back at all my posts and I realized how much I have changed since last year. There's no better way to see how much you've changed by looking at how you do what you loved...in my case, it's writing. I think I like the change. I'm not so reckless, so unpredictable. I think I'm beginning to control myself better, think through things more. I'm actually writing drafts, notes, the framework before penning down a story. I never did that before.

Suffice it to say that God has been molding me throughout last year, despite the mistakes I've made. 2009 was a challenging year for me, and I think that it has made a permanent mark on my character, my standards and my outlook of life. I've grown to be more responsible, more mature and less....stupid =). 2009 taught me a lot about words and actions, decisions and consequences. I think I can safely say that dNA helped in that as well; what with the ultimate question (how then shall we live?) in my mind and the constant encouragement from godly friends (BTW, thanks a lot)

I've also made terrible choices along the way. Choices that led to disaster in my personal life, in my relationship with certain friends, and especially in my relationship with God. I think it was because of the sudden burdens that were trust towards me. Suddenly, I was responsible for many many people. My words could be commands, my actions a powerful example that will not only define who I am but also the people I represent. It was a scary thought. I believe it made push myself to higher levels of maturity, but it also......well I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but the closest I could get was that I lost myself in all those responsibilities instead of relying on God's strength and purpose. At night, I scrutinised every word I said, every action I took; checking to see whether I've failed in my responsibilities, berating myself bitterly when I did instead of placing it in God's hands and letting Him handle it. In time, I forgot what I was truly busy for; WHO I was truly busy for.

Yeah it was a battle last year, battling myself, my need to feel that I'm worthy. And I always fell short. Because I am NOT worthy. At all. It's God who made us worthy, without Him we are nothing. I am a child from Adam, and that, as Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia said to Prince Caspian, "that is enough to raise the head of the lowest beggar, and to lower the head of the highest ruler" ........now why did I use that quote? I don't know. ==

That's the short story. The main thing I've learnt through the whole of last year (it didn't happen at the end of the year, it was more of an ongoing thing....argh! difficult to explain, again) was that I desperately needed God, for I'm nothing without Him. And despite relying on my strength, He had listened to all my half-hearted prayers, and when I truly cried in despair, He held me up. I think I'm beginning to see that God's love....is beyond anything and somehow it's constantly growing. As Aslan again once said, "As you grow bigger, so do I" (well it was something along those lines). I comprehend that I will never begin to comprehend the vastness of God's love.

If you're wondering what I was doing during the whole of December until now, I was actively reviewing my life in 2009; because of the drastic changes I felt in myself. I was on a sabbatical of sorts - just reviewing and reflecting on my life, praying and talking to God, getting my private world in order (still am...probably will take my whole life too..LOL), wondering about the future. For those who had the chance to intercept it (especially dNA-ers, since dNA was the beginning of my 'sabbatical'), thanks for the words of encouragement and allowing me to go moody(I think I was staring a bit too much for comfort right??) and also for picking up the phone to message or answering my calls late at night or allowing me to visit you just to rant. I also apologize if my reflective state has hurt anyone (there're no mountains or caves to go to you see, and my family would freak if I did anyways) and also for the time before the holidays when I was really feeling down....it was purely unintentional. So sorry for not being more cheerful.

Oh and I'm still reflecting, though it has toned down a bit. Now I'm just thinking about the next step.

And my mom wants me to cook so I can't write a nice elegant ending for this....kinda saved me as I do NOT know how to end this. I guess I just hope that the little I've revealed here would help those who were hurt by me last year to understand what I was going through...and also...well hopefully you'd have learnt something from this ranting. Hm.

Cutlets for dinner. =)

Unveiling

This is a small part of a story I'm beginning to write; you could say that it'd be a project. I did this because I wanted to finally let it out from my head, and also because of the encouragement of a close friend. I think you'll see why I was reluctant to write this down. But I hope you will not assume that I'm becoming violent or emo or whatever. =) And no this was not because of Criminal Minds either. Please tell me what you think.

I looked back to the two of my friends on the remaining horse. We had what we wanted, but we needed to get out, now, unless we wanted to pay with our lives. The gate of the castle ground was closing swiftly. I turned again to see the vast army of trained Trackers charging at us. I knew that we would never make it out of the city alive with them at our heels. They needed to be destroyed.

And only I could do it.

Swinging around to look at my comrades, I yelled, “Run!!”

“What???”

I couldn’t wait for them to see reason. They had to leave, before I kill them. I smacked the horse’s rump as hard as I could. It, at least got the message. They could do nothing but hold on to the charger as it fled through the gates. They were safe, for now.

I felt the bile rise in my throat as I allowed the monster in me take control. I could feel the swell of evil savage joy in my blood as I let down my walls of self-control. I hated myself, but there was no choice. It was this or death.

So I became the beast I was born to be.

Slowly I swindled around gracefully to meet them; my prey. Arrows flew in all directions, and I’m sure that some of them reached their target, but they were nothing to me. This was too easy; it was almost boring. But I haven’t had such fun in such a long time that this, no matter how pathetic, would do.

I analyzed them with a smile on my face. There was a metallic ringing in my ears, a pounding in my veins. I could almost feel the splatter of their blood on my face, see their guts rip apart. I grinned. Too easy.

I laughed when the first of the fools reached me as I grab his chest and tore his heart out. I laughed as the screams began.