i succumbed or I am finally doing it right

Well, I decided that I should start doing what normal bloggers do. "normal" as in what normal adolescents my age do. They blog about their life. Their conversations, what recently made them jump for joy, rocher beancurd, a recent break-up, the crazy teacher ... The reason to compel such writing fails me. Perhaps it is because I am running out on time that I can safely call myself a teenager. I mean, the lady at the ticketing booth at the esplanade almost didn't let me in on a student ticket. Perhaps it is because I am stuck in the staff room, with nothing to do but wait for my ipod to finish charging. Or perhaps, this is what I term - "a no-brainer blogging". After all, I am simply relating the day's events.

This is my last week in Naval Base Secondary. I have been here since March, experiencing sufficiently the life of a teacher to know that I need to experience the corporate work field before deciding on my vocation. It is amazing to see how teachers take on a different personality once they face 40 pairs of blank stares, (if they are lucky actually) and realize that what they teach goes in one ear and out the other. I don't blame them students. This is scientifically proven. We don't listen much to what people say.

If anything, I have enjoyed my time here. True, there were the times I really wanted to throw my hands up in despair when a delinquent here and there snooze in class or swagger to and fro in slippers. Yet, the interaction I have experienced with my students are no less satisfying. It is surprising perhaps, but I have to admit, I am going to miss stepping into a classroom and start calling out names all in effort to keep a class subdued. Even more so surprising is the knowledge that they probably will not see me as a teacher they will want to keep in contact and remember at their weddings, and vice versa, but yet, I can forsee that while their faces may be a blur in about 2 years, the experience was well worth it.

If anything, the short teaching experience showed me my limitations and my faults. I thought I spoke well enough in a crowd and knew well the social game. I thought long and hard for ways to make an impact on my students. What should I teach them so that they would at least take away something for the day? Then I realized that maybe if I turned the tables around a little bit, it could be much different. What if I would consider what I could take away that day? What could I learn today from them? How true it is then, that as I gain more exposure, I grow in awareness of how much more I have to learn. Taking a glimpse into a wider circle does that dosen't it?

ahh well. ipod is fully charged. time to head to the bank, see the nice increase in numbers and head off for one more round of tuition. FIGHTING!

I am but I do not know

As long as I remember,

I knew the famous cross

of the father's love for me,

and how He saved the lost

It's all I ever knew,

I never questioned why it's true

chorus:

Do I really love you?

Am I really true?

My heart is so broken

and I'm oh so confused

You walked my storm

y seas

You set my heart ablaze

My tears fall to my knees,

my hands are raised

I heard David and Goliath

before I close my eyes

Samuel and the prophets

I read them off my heart

It's all I ever knew

I never questioned why it's true

chorus:

Do I really love you?

Am I really true?

My heart is so broken

and I'm oh so confused

You walked my stormy seas

You set my heart ablaze

My tears fall to my

knees,

my hands are

raised

doo doo oo doo doo doo,

Lord, where are you?

doo doo oo doo doo doo,

Lord, where are you?

I wanna say I am

I wanna say I do

The fear of knowing the truth

hids me away from you

That's all I ever know

and maybe nothing more

So tell me if I love you,

Oh tell me if I'm true

My heart is so broken

and I'm so confused

You walked my stormy seas

You set my heart ablaze

My tears fall to my knees,

my hands are raised

doo doo oo doo doo doo,

Lord let me hear you,

doo doo oo doo doo doo,

Lord I hear you

(fades)

He watches, on the sidewalk

Why is it that the most fulfilling, the answer to every problem, the best food for the soul is in something unseen, unfelt, incomprehensible and so prone to doubt?

Why does He let the rainbow shine, but only after the rain? So

dim and so vague, we can easily miss it.

Why is it that God himself chooses to be so vague, so quiet? He seems like a person by the road, just quietly standing by, letting everyone walk him by.

Today

It's a cloud of drowsiness that hangs over me, suppressing thought and clarity.

The flurry of movement and senseless chatter only cause the eyelids to grow heavier

I occupy myself with doodling and writing, to keep from relenting to a call of sleep

The cause of such a state fails to reason, leaving me to question,

the reason of my presence- in the classroom

the moment (a sequel)

The stars are falling from the sky, sprinkling stardust in our eyes

My nose twitches, but I do not sneeze

They settle, and then disappear

So are the excitement and happiness I accumulate,

tears are dried up, time soothes the frustration,

Answers to my anxiety, not a solution but a response. expected.

Perhaps they are not of worth, and should be remembered not,

for what tomorrow brings, today does not matter.

. . . .

What will tomorrow bring?

I know and do not.

Today, not an investment for tomorrow

Laughter and tears dismissed to be replaced by another kind

They should not be forgotten though, or disappointed by

The fleeting emotions are marked in a diary, written at length

the ink itself fades out. slowly.

The pages may be stored and left to dust,

but maybe tomorrow, I will choose to relive yesterday's emotions

for yesterday's hopes to come alive,

to be laughed and even scorned

But at least for today, they are alive once more, to be felt and to hold

But at least, for the moment.

This moment is treasured

a letter to my future husband

Well I am not so sure what exactly came over me to write such a strange post. Perhaps its not entirely too strange really. After all, don't we all look to the future in anticipation for something? Also, more often than not, that "something" is finding THE one, and this applies to both sides of the gender spectrum. So I guess, this post is not entirely unexpected. It is something we all have battled in our minds, discussed with our besties and wish for in our prayers. So since, this is something we are familiar with, why not pen it down?

I think more importantly, I hope this is from all the ladies to their future husbands-to-be out there. Anyway, here goes:

Dear sir,

perhaps, it is highly unnecessary to introduce myself. I am not quite sure when or where or how you are going to be reading this. I guess it is rather strange for someone to write to another who does not quite exist in her mind as well. I don't know your name, what you do or what you like; but I guess someone up there does and is taking good care of you right now.

I thought I'd let you know that that someone up there is taking real good care of me too. He is preparing me for you, I am sure of that. I am still a little rough around the edges, but I am slowly working hard to refine myself. It is tough work, and I feel that I will still fall short of the ideal lady I hope to be. Embracing ideas like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control- are really not easy. I still get impatient over many small things, and wish I could be a lot more gentle with my words. I can only wait in faith that the creator knows me best, and somewhere within me, there is that fruit of the spirit ready to blossom when the time is right.

I once read that an excellent wife is worth far more than rubies. As I read on, I can't help but I feel I am going to fall short of many of the qualities. How do I rise while it is still night, and work with my hands in delight? How do I speak only wisdom and gird myself with strength? Yet, I do know one thing - I smile at the future. I know that as the years go by, each quality I will learn and embrace. So that when the day doth come, I am a lady that you will call me blessed.

It remains a mystery who you are; you could be right under my nose, you could be on the other side of the world. I used to have a check-list of my must-haves in a husband, but I now only pray that you will patient for me, as I am for you. I no longer set expectations, because I entrust them to the Lord, that He provides as best fit. I realise that when we do meet, I will still fall short of the ideal and so will you. Yet, I think it is okay. This only poses a more exciting project, for us to grow and change in the Lord together.

So as I clasp my hands together and close my eyes, I pray that He who knows all will take care of you; whoever you are, wherever you are. I pray He will watch over you, and will always be your guide.

With much love,

your future wife.

without a doubt, this is probably the weirdest, most awkward post I have ever written. Congrats to myself!

hollywood got it right?

Recently, I caught the movie - Sex and the City 2. I never watched the first movie, only catching 20mins of it on the plane, and switched it off after realising it wasn't the most value-added show from the catalogue.
I am not here to say the 2nd edition deserves another rating less than an M18, but the movie got me thinking about how I viewed friendship and ... well. romance. The movie definitely does nothing good to the consumerist society, no doubt. (the fashion is pretty much a good reason to catch the show, with a few exceptions on sarah jessica parker) But as I observed the relationship between Carrie and her husband, Mr. Big, I realised how critical and perhaps even, shallow my judgment of relationships are.

While watching the movie (and laughing a great deal all the while, many thanks to Samantha), I observed critically the fluctuating relationship between Carrie and Big which both desperately try to keep afloat. While both cared for one another genuinely, I wondered if their materialistic gains and need to appear like the 'all-rounded got-it-all-together NY couple' trumped a realistic romance simply based on emotions. In other words, I wondered if Carrie and Big tried to live the fairy-tale romance so much, they could not create real-life romance.

But what really is the fairy-tale romance? The one where starts of with 'Once upon a time', ends with 'Happily ever after' and have our fair, beautiful princess coupled with our crinkled-faced witch? That, as I realised, is the fairy-tale romance that 10 year-olds understand. But at 18 right now, in the 21st century, I realised I had created my own fairy-tale romance, thinking that outside this box, none checked my 'correct relationship' list.
So, at 18 years of age, my fairy-tale romance looks as such - A man and a woman, good christian family, loyal and loving. 2 children (or 4... yup, I am all about even numbers), homely home. The housewife, the man coming home to a warm meal at 7pm. The occasional family squabbles, the happy family picnics, throw in family devotions.. fast-forward 50 years, two loving retired couples sitting under the night sky, holding each other's hands, not saying a word, but in perfect harmony.
As I looked at Carrie and Big's marriage, where there was no children and a posh home that looked more like a hotel, I straightaway striked off this relationship as non-exemplary. But what did I know about relationships? Who was I to say this was right and wrong? As Carrie and Big said - They were adults, they were allowed to design their marriage that suited them best. If they realised that they needed 2 days a week off from each other, who was to say this was the inappropriate marriage? I guess there is that line to be drawn, where a marriage can't be unique as on the verge of turning unnatural. Yet, it was a rude awakening to me, realising that I had created my own version of a 'fairy-tale romance' and I needed to see reality.

Perhaps, I need to start to picture- a family where the dad may not be around every day, only appearing once a month due to work overseas. A child that is rebellious and hates the family. And see that in all these, it is still a family. A family commissioned by God, and loved by the creator. I was watching supernanny, and I realised how apt it was.

What did I get from it? No don't worry, I am not in a fantasy that tells me even if I have a dysfunctional family, there is the light at the end of the tunnel. No, I think family problems are permanently existent, and often, the problems themselves are routinely consistent. I started off watching the first five minutes of the episode thinking, " good grief, this is a show that just encourages late marriage with no children. Bye bye government hopes of increasing the fertility rate" But I somehow stayed on, not fathoming why. The last five minutes, however, struck a chord.

The father said this, "I walked around before, not realising that the dream family I wanted was right under my nose"

I guess, while I have painted a fantasy picture of a family, this fantasy can be realised. What I needed to comprehend, was that this fantasy is going to be just a few rare moments, and most of the time - 98% of the time, pure torture. I remembered a line from the show - "The Back-up plan". This guy goes, "Most of the day I think, what the heck am I doing as a father? Then, there is that one moment, that makes me realise that it is all worth it". That guy is lucky, he gets one of those "fantasy" moments daily. Most of the week, these moments don't even get a whiff.

So how then? Are these rare moments of fantasy worthwhile? Should we just stay within the comfort zone? Don't marry, or if you do, stick to you and your partner. Heck, if developed countries have a lower fertility rate, other countries can make up for it. After all, why subject ourselves to the cries of children, invest our time in lives that could otherwise be spas, shopping and romantic get-aways?

We may never know. If i did, I could have solved a huge social problem. But at the last scene of supernanny, I got a clue. The 2 sisters sat in front of the camera; and suddenly, Lizzie the younger sister turned around and gave the elder sister a BIG HUG. and gave her a kiss. While there were no words exchanged, both faces lit up like angels. All of a sudden, all fighting, squabbling and hateful words evaporated from memory. At that moment, they were two sisters who loved one another and wouldn't exchange another to replace the other person.

So there. My dream family will never realise. I may have kids that possibly drive me crazy half the time. But then, I think that for a majority of parents... they would go through all the craziness to see that twinkle in the eye and the mega chocolate-smeared smile on their kid's face.

monotonous desire

Lately I have been pondering over my integrity towards my hearts desire of my service to God. I realized that while I truly wished to see my friends come to Christ, see my CG girls grow into women of Christ and see myself mature in God’s word, I am approaching a state of what I term –‘monotonous desire’.

It struck me one night while I was praying for the salvation of some of my close friends. It dawned upon me that my prayer for them had become routine. Not ritualistic, I don’t consider my prayer as compulsory but a sincere desire to see my friends experience the same love I have experienced, and for myself to be that living testimony. Yet, I repeat almost the same words, praying the same thing, and not quite making that difference. Have I lost the fire then? What has happened?

I realized that my desire was real. Or rather, I had the desire to have the desire for them. It was sincere and heartfelt but it did not necessarily bring me to my knees all the time, nor did I weep in tears for their salvation. I did not spend my day either in my workplace being the ‘living testimony’ as I hope to be, I do not send encouraging Bible verses to these people that I pray for and neither do I see them on a regular basis. My opportunity to interact with them and see my prayer have a chance to produce fruit is small.

I believe our Christian journey is as such. We sometimes reach a spiritual high, our cup overflows with such joy that we could almost dance and give praise in the streets like King David. But for a majority of the Christian walk, it is a slow monotonous walk. Do we still want to reach the goal? YES! Do we know what we are working towards? YES! The Christian journey is not always a sprint or even a jog. It isn’t even a skip or a dance down the happy gospel road. No, the road trip is really long, so we just walk.

I believe walking is an act of faithfulness in itself. I like to think of an analogy from the Bible – the march of the Israelites in the Wilderness for 40 years. Recently, Loy showed the interns pictures of where the actual Wilderness was. The wilderness was not a land flowing of milk and honey, but rather cold hard rocks where the weather is at odds with your wishes, and no soft place to lie your head on. It is here, where the Israelites spent 40 years in circles. We know the story- they complain, they grumble. I think that their grumbling and complaining is understandable. Not forgivable, but comprehensible.

Yet in their complaints, God kept faithful – Deuteronomy 29:5 says “During the forty years that I led you through the desert, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet.” Our Christian journey may be tiresome, and it will last for tens of years, but God has promised that He will be faithful. He will not wear out our sandals or our clothes. With the gospel of peace on our feet, the breastplate of righteousness and the belt of truth, we put on the full armor of God that can last for more than 40 years.

So for the next forty years at least, just keep walking. Its alright if we dont run or dance to a rhythm that sometimes disappear. But dont give up, dont stop. Just keep walking in faith even with a monotonous desire.

painting a 1000 :) on a 1000 faces

A piece of cloth of colours
that I am not used to seeing

it's a kaleidoscope of colours,
so different but merged,
woven into one another
how is it possible?
I will never know colours.

but i know,
that if I could, I could,
paint a thousand smiles
on a thousand faces,
i would, i would

the art of smelling is not
just using it as a sense,
but to savour what you smell,
like how you savour what you taste

i just hope you know,
that if I could, I could,
paint a thousand smiles
on a thousand faces,
i would, i would

Why arent there mini-skirts saris?
or pyjamas chong-sams?

You'd probably see, a piece of cloth,
carefully divided into 4 pieces,
They may interact, but never mix.

thats why I wish,
that if I could, I could,
paint a thousand smiles
on a thousand faces,
i would, i would

And then, here and there,
Flamboyant colours appear.
Bold. Defiant.
they stand out
and are unafraid.

With a last thought,
An air plane steering wheel
looks like a bicycle handle.

thats why I wish,
that if I could, I could,
paint a thousand smiles
on a thousand faces,
i would, i would

a simple prayer, and a handphone is saved.

I remember listening to this song every morning on my way to school when I was 15. Every morning, my dad will give me a ride to school, a short 7 mins (depending on traffic) drive. Every morning, I will automatically reach out my hand and turn to this song. Not only was it refreshing every morning, but what a blessing to know that God's mercies are new every morning?

He never sleeps, He never slumbers
by Don Moen

As I learn more everyday about my father, it is indeed a blessing to know that prayers that seem too simple, too trivial and maybe illogical, is the most powerful way of communicating to God and getting things done in His name.

'because God is working in ways that you cannot see'

How very often as christians or simply put as humans, we try to rationalize, understand God's ways. Seems uncomfortable now that we put it like that dosen't it? But how many times do we question (note: in our own strength) endlessly, just to answer quesitons like

'how is the holy trinity possible?' 'If God knows everything, how is free will possible?' 'Can everyone be saved before the 2nd coming?' 'IS THERE A GOD? and if so, how do I prove it?'

Seems silly even for me, to wonder why cant I have the simple faith a small kid, immersed in God's powerful ways and raising our hand to our father in worship. How does God do unimaginable, incomprehensible things we cannot wrap our heads around? Why not look at prayer as an example?

When we are downtrodden, helpless and lost, we cry out in prayer, 'Abba father'
Not only is the message transmitted free, but it is loud and clear to our God that

'never sleeps' 'never slumbers'
and 'NEVER tires of hearing our prayer'

What if we start thinking about God LOVING to hear us cry out to him, (no, he dosen't relish in our troubled times) but I think, that God wants us to cry out to him FIRST everytime we are sad, happy, down, up, upside-down... whichever way our emotional rollar-coaster is facing. Either way, God loves to hear from us.

What is more, as we draw closer to him, and constantly turn to prayer, our eyes and ears will open. Perhaps slowly, but knowingly, you will see God's hands in the smallest of ways. :)

I thought of a rather, funny encounter with how amazing prayer is. Here's my lil story of how prayer works:

a simple prayer, and a handphone is saved.

For those who know me personally, I am nothing short of a walking disaster when it comes to directions, walking without stumbling over something or forgetting about my handphone, wallets, etc. For the record, I once lost around 4 handphones in a year. (and you'd wonder why I never dared to ask for a ... more socially flattering form of gadget.)

Anyway, my dad told me to pray a prayer over my handphone. Seemed silly to me at that time.. in 2008. But, I did. And here's one good example of how my prayer was forgotten by me, but remembered by God.

The scene opens to the day when we were returning back to Singapore. Our group took a cab down to the airport, and i took the front seat, (very spacious, i slept even. hehehe. while everyone suffered at the back.) As I was helping with the luggage, my friend from Australia called me, so i just left the phone on the dashboard.

Once at the airport, I just took my bags and left. Since there were lots of luggage, my handphone's position just went MIAed in my mind. When did I realise my missing handphone? I only realised when we were walking from terminal 1 to terminal 2! The dreaded thought kept running through my mind...

'SHEET... i left it on the van
AGAIN.'

My more resourceful friends (by which I mean, those that are able to speak the local language) called my phone...

no answer.
it was ringing, but no answer.

so we tried to call the hotel. found the hotel no, then found the company that handles all the van services.

I can tell you as with as much assurance as that rain falls that the stress level of the group had risen to an astronomical heights. I was pretty calm.. Pretty routined for me already considering my past experiences. I guess, to exist in a paradox, I responded by laughing and saying

- ' i have faith that my phone will come back cos' its the only phone that I have prayed over. And so far, this phone has lasted the longest'

So we were all heading to get dinner, and we were still making calls to the various people that could have a chance of finding my phone. AND. i took out my pouch to check the flight's no. with my passport

and lo and behold. nestled comfortably at the bottom of my pouch was my DEAR HANDPHONE!! Apparently, I had subconsciously returned my phone back to its rightful place or rather a place, that I could still call my handphone mine, after I shifted back the luggage. However, because that various well-thought actions and movements were termed 'subconscious', it slipped my... well. not so carefully thought-through mind.

Yet, as we can all laugh about my embarrassing moment 0192, I really felt that God was truly at hand in all this. It may be a small issue, I mean, it wasn't like my passport went missing. and yes, the phone didn't return via the van driver or by some miraculous way (but an embarrassing manner unfortunately), but already, God allowed me to 'take care' of this phone. praise God in all his goodness. :)

in summary>>
It ain't difficult. PRAY.

(i cant believe how easy it is to write a post of 983 words and counting!)

In all thanks,
here's a beautiful worship song by parachute band.

'glorify'

thank you for your patience with my 1000+ 26 lead soldiers.
your time spent reading is most appreciated,

gracia

Sophie Milman - It Might As Well Be Spring

i think this song... was written for a person like me. :)
some extra lyrics here anyway at the first stanza and last. but beautiful nonetheless.

The things I used to like
I don't like anymore.
I want a lot of other things
I've never had before.
It's just like mother says...
I sit around and mope.
Pretending I am wonderful.
And knowing I'm a dope.

I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm,
I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string.
I'd say that I had spring fever,
But I know it even isn't spring.

I'm starry-eyed and vaguely discontented
Like a nightingale without a song to sing.
Oh, why should I have spring fever
When i know it isn't even spring?

I keep wishing I were somewhere else,
Walking down a strange new street.
Hearing words that I have never heard
From a man I've yet to meet.
I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams,
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing.
I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud
Or a robin on the wing.
But I feel so gay,
In a melancholy way,
That it might as well be spring,
Yes, It might as well be spring.

In our air-conditioned, patent leather farmhouse,
On our ultra-modern, scientific farm,
We'll live in a stream-lined heaven,
And we'll waste no time on charm!
No geraniums to clutter our veranda,
Nor single little sentimental things,
No virginia creepers, nothing useless !

the a level results scenario game

5th march. young faces. clothes carefully picked to impress. dyed hair. 4 inch heels. and a couple of shaved heads. we walk into the gathering. parquet tiles. the stage, with the stand ready for the principal's address. Some whisper in excited tones. Hugs among a couple of the mascara-lined faces.

On the 2nd floor of the hall, the J2 students sit. Some bored. Some look out for friends. and there are those plugged into an electronic device to shut out the entire world. Bystanders. Yet, in about one revolution of the earth around the sun's axis, they will find themselves in the shoes of those in the above paragraph. Yet. They continue existing as they should. for now, as they think best fit.

I smile as I see familiar faces, grab an arm or two. Linking arms, and with a thumping heart. I await for my fate. We find the assigned line. I continue observing the familiar faces, but in very different costumes. Sigh. The JC masquerade is always full-time. But well, we gather here for the very last time. To be assigned our fate for at least the next 3-4 years.

. Tick. Tock.
Teachers arrive. I prefer not to meet them. They carry the answers to the questions in our mind. Every body language from them, a smile, a glance even, carries a hope and a sinking feeling in the stomach- that is highly based on the prevading 'worse case scenario' thoughts in my mind. Yet, my not so like-minded friends seem to think otherwise. High-pitched voices. Yes. I guess I have nowhere else to go.

Hi Mr. so-and-so! Oh my gosh! You know our results right?! How did I do?! PLEASE PLEASE!

Oh. The arrival of the one we await for has arrived. Teachers take their place. In front of their assigned rows. They stare. some straight-ahead. Some flip through the brochures. Still others share light-hearted, meaningless conversations with the whosoevers. Right. The woman speaks.

". . . this year . . . expectations. . . national . . . As . . . YJC . . teachers. . . you. . "
'can she just cut the crap?'
'lol'
. . . results. . . comparatively . . . "
sighs. a flip in my stomach.

this is where the game begins.

scene 1: the favourable.
and now for the top scorers.
For those who scored 3 H2 A's...

DEEP BREATH.

"... "
"..." (ahh. knew she would get it)
"..." (WOW. didn't expect him to be up there!)
"..." (aiyah.expected.)
"..."
"..."
"..." (why all science students!)

the 4 A's ...

DEEP DEEP BREATH

the 5 A's ...

"..."
"..."
"..."
(Hey Gracia! isn't That YOUR NAME!!)
(OMY GAWSH! GRACIA!!)
my heart stops, my breathing unsteady.
WAIT.
thats my name.
5 As.
resonate that.
equal that.
( GET UP THERE U GOOSE!)

Tears. I smile. Joy. I lift my eyes heavenward. and in the depths of my heart.
I say 'thank you. father'. and I switch on my phone, and make the necessary calls.

Scene 2: the dreaded

and now for the top scorers.
For those who scored 3 H2 A's...

DEEP BREATH.
"... "
"..." (ahh. knew she would get it)
"..." (WOW. didn't expect him to be up there!)
"..." (aiyah.expected.)
"..."
"..."
"..." (why all science students!)

the 4 A's ..
the 5 A's ... and this year's top scorer is ... ..

congratulations to all students. Now your teachers will hand out your certs by your register number. Remember to collect the relevant brochures. Good Luck to you all, and have a great future ahead.

the rumble of noise. Everyone gathers to their feet.
Teachers fulfill their task.
Screams. the sound of cheers, hoorays, YESes, go out into the air. Smiles. Tears of elation. They belong to the hard workers, the dilligent. The ones who day by day, try their best, listen to lectures, hand in their tutorials. Deserving students. They now reap their rewards that they have slogged hard for.

Then. There is the flip-side of the recipients. and I belong to this category. We too shed tears. But we remain silent. The point where I wish the world would just go away, and this was all a nightmare. But reality. I live in my nightmare. Where can I go from here? How am I going to face everyone? 2 years. I guess I should have known. But. 2 years. And this is where I arrive to. . . No. No amount of comfort, words, encouragement can make me feel better. Don't even try Mr. so and so.. Just let me be. I look over at the smiling faces. Why can't I be part of that group?
. . .

Well. I guess this is where I say. Which do I end up with? In just one more week.
One of the scenarios will suffice. Perhaps a third one will, one that involves mediocre grades that will probably be as good as scene 2. ahh well thoughts. I don't understand how any of this will make me feel any better. But I guess its a good laugh. I think this is the best I can come up with, at 3 in the morning and on a hungry stomach.

the cool night breeze & a CNY steamboat dinner

FOREWORD: I started this entry on the train, contemplating on those magical four words. Then I realised the perfect ending to this entry, was the perfect message I received from a friend that ended today. perfectly.

Take a moment and savour those four words -- "the cool night breeze". Simple, clear and succinct. So clear, its almost transparent. No need to ponder and struggle with it, just a clear simple message. Like a pause in life for

1. 2. 3. 4. 5 seconds.

What a perfect way to describe this moment as I sit next to my window, contemplating on today's events and my unfinished thoughts.

I guess thats how some people are described as 'a breath of fresh air' That's how it must feel. Like a cool night breeze. Not a wind, just a breeze mind you, like a small "puff...." It just blows through you, allowing you to taste, just taste its goodness, its sweetness. But leaves you quickly, leaving the recipent thirsty for more.

That's why I stay still, or we sometimes do. Hoping for that fresh breeze of air to gently brush past us again. So the momentary pause in life is an enjoyable lag, a much needed caught breath amidst our hurried life.

The best group of people I believe have a 'breath of fresh air' tag are hung around the necks of children. Yup, little men and little women. With their chubby cheeks and toufu looking arms and thighs, eyes that stare into nothing but possess a wonder that tells you they see everything.

Children, they are like that breath of fresh air. Innocent, simple, a delight. When in a compliant mood, the stars in their eyes makes your day. When they, without so much as a thought, climb into your lap, a warmth spreads through your heart. When they laugh, hug you, smile, say 'Da da' or 'Ma ma', the cool night breeze brushes past you, and you drink it in, relishing that moment.

Life presents these occasional cool night breezes. They past by quickly, often going unnoticed. Of course we all do experience it, that's why we relish it so when it swings by. But today, I realised one thing. These cool night breezes are not a rarity. They are not some exotic gift that we have to wrap our heads around to find.

Rather, such cool night breezes are often, just round the corner, right under our noses. Often, if we just took slower steps, looked around instead of ahead all the time, the cool night breezes come by pretty often.

And that's what Amanda Yaw from my CG taught me today. After a fabulous steamboat dinner with the CG, I recieved a text message from her, thanking every CG member for their contribution in whatever way to the dinner. That struck me. In just one day, there were that many blessings. That many things that people, not children mind you, did that could warm any individual's heart. There were that many breaths of fresh air. And yet, I walked through the entire day, without realising it. And it took an sms, a whole session of 'count your blessing' and a $10 dinner to make me realise that.

Such is the cost for learning how to appreciate the small things in life. And you'd have thought, it was cliche enough a lesson. But when you think you are all charged up, we sometimes need the continuation of re-charging. Perhaps in a new perspective, perhaps in a new situation... But we can never quite reach "full battery" status.

I recently completed reading "the essence of the thing". But what is "the essence of the thing" truly? Finding that special someone? striking gold? spending time in service for God? Hanging out with friends? Shopping maybe? I guess there is no answer. The essence of the thing lies in... the thing. The breath of fresh air... lies everywhere. It is simply put, already there. It only needs us to pause, pull on the brakes, perhaps do a U-Turn, or just throw your head over your shoulder, and you will find the very thing that

warms your heart
makes you smile
create the twinkle in your eye

and allows you to look back ahead once more in life, and with a light spring in your step, you walk with your head held high to the world, with the biggest smile you painted on yourself. Because. you found

the cool night breeze.

"oh body swayed to music,
O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?'

my brilliant days as an artist in secondary 2

It seems as if it was just yesterday I spent hours in the art room with Ms. Koh, touching up my art pieces and touching them up again. Yet, as I look at the pictures once more, it seems as if the artist in secondary 2 was another person. Today, my creations lie in humble cartoon drawings of friends on cards. Done with a simple black-ink pen and some coloured markers. Perhaps this long break will give me the chance to sit down and take up this... rather pricey hobby once more.

My mock-ups. OR drafts. We do cropping. For my final project in Secondary 2, I decided on the topic of Nature.

I was truly inspired by the wings of the butterfly... so it became my focal point in my final piece.

TADA! my final piece. I must admit, I don't really like it. I like the drafts better.

Here is another art project. Its called my childhood.

ribbons... these are a few of my favourite things!
Its upside down! I dunno why. how frustrating.
this is the final piece... which is not the right way up either. WELL.


haha. and these are what I gathered from cleaning my room today.