The Dysfunctional Pilgrim

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 anythi...

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 don...

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.” exclai...

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. =)

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 bac...

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 ...

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? Y...