am sitting on little sofachair in room typing on little laptop (as opposed to alfredo), with chairlift's bruises playing in the background on groovesharks, a streaming (?) thing ky introduced me to; i foresee it being somewhat of a regular companion on the rare days i have the luxury to laze with feet on yummy rug, like today. the song reminds me of the days with a, and how we got each other through uni. i miss him, and wonder if he'll remember the promise of fleaing together, i didn't get a reply to my last text. although that could really be my phone's fault; as g said, "my phone is the pits".
but everyone's on super advanced phones these days; i'm happy with my old school nokia so ancient some of my students mistake it for topsecret stateoftheart uberexclusive technology. they are so cute.

screaming uno spin, chocolate and drinks treat by winner and loser. being told one day i look sixteen, and asked if i'm married the next. am i eurasian, no. i look japanese with my brown faux leather jacket, and ugly in my brother's sports polo. running down the circular stairs towards the cafe because there's a last-mintue meeting and we can't go out for lunch anymore. why cannot throw things,- because they will get lost, i reply. i think he has won some of my heart but he wanders around and forgets i exist even if i walk past, not until i am in my proper place at the proper time, things work that way in his world and he asks me questions again. gobbling a starbucks chocolate muffin into my mouth because it is his class next and i will need all the chocolate i can get, the drama class, miss j calls them.

maybe monday, we will go play more games, before my second goodbye. there is a third to come. for someone who hates goodbyes, i certainly have a number of them to perform. thoreau said that friends form the langditudes and longditudes of the world; and i don't know why i took so long to echo, i believe so much in it. like, hi, your continent will never be the same again.

my alma mater organised a film screening; there are films i want to watch, but no one who'll still be around seems awake enough.

this post will only be about work

-because i need boundaries.

it's amazing how i can occasionally (on all of two counts) arrive home feeling something like open-eyed conscious (as opposed to the usual walking around with eyes asleep) and telling myself that yes, today i will settle my personal life, but within literally half an hour my body is prodding me for the bed. it's half an hour now.

but i haven't made it this far in many days, so i may as well push myself for another paragraph or two more; otherwise i'll continue feeling stuck with words up to the eusophogus (clearly my spelling skills are dramatically detoriating). well no, it's not as bad as it sounds really, i haven't sold my life to work; but it's been proving true that in the law of three, something has to give. i've been at work and meeting people in real time real life; keeping up with people in the online sphere has all but collapsed.

in the times i do open my inbox, facing a hundred-odd mails each sitting is tiring, as is playing catchup with those who communicate with me virtually. people leaving for overseas, friends i haven't seen for months, important things, then there's the little -but many- things that happen, like photos that are uploaded, commented on multiple of multiple times, etc.

i do like keeping in touch with people in this way, in these little ways, but while i'm still figuring out how to adjust and adapt to this new, long-term life, i suppose i shall continue feeling bad. haha.

it's reaching the 45th minute, i shall listen to my body. in the meantime, i'll leave a photo, of another life, another place. here's one for the kids.

since i'm not doing a post-mortem this year...

let's end with one of those desultory photos. on another note, i'm getting fonder of the really stupid photos i take, those with mis-timed faces and half-grimaces, and also, i seriously need to cut hair.

there are some things i could wish to be settled before the passing of the year, only i don't know if i should or how. sometimes things blare before your face and you can't deny how ugly you are. nope.

issues on my hands, surely they ought to be more than just grey slather hanging between my fingers. but such take time, and understanding.


with the new year comes- so much. i have no resource to envisage a year with asd, news which swept me off my feet but i ought to rise and meet come what may with equanimity. and what of the past? along along with conversations unexpected and information unanticipated. bigger picture, maybe, my God sure does tie me up in knots. hii, am i Your origami?
just, i would love reconciliation, but You know best and i wait on Your timing. You know our hearts, and what we can take. christmas wish Your way.

perhaps we're all just singing along to the same old broken song
come save us from ourselves

reflections; or, the aftermath

Dear God,

so it's over. surreal, really. that there are no more meetings, no more plannings, no more rehearsals. i suppose it's true, we are creatures of habit and. more than that, i'm saying what i honestly thought i never would: i miss it. although i guess if i'd thought about it a bit more i would have known all along i would, ultimately. serving You brings a joy and ache in transposition.

bet You're pleased i confess that =Pp i really never thought i would though! it was dreadful along the way, the troughs and trudgings that meant for a period, i dreaded checking my mail. i determined to never, ever, serve again- i'm so glad i'm wrong :) that i find myself willing to take leave for the next children's camp.

it's over, it's over. feels like i lost more weight during the course, which would be kind of messed up. and my voice is a mortality count, along with my pride and rebelliousness. ohwell. these things have multiple lives.

thank You, for who You are. that Your Body here on earth is such a beautiful one- when it comes together and lives for You. a tiny glimpse/a dark shadow of the magnified gloriousness of eternity, when we are wonderfully righteous, never more to fall. i can't, can't, can't, can't wait for that day, Father. :)

i love love love love love You.

Amen.

but i need something more

"No, Mom," he sniffled, eyes wide as saucers as he plead his case, "I mean I twied and twied to tell my body not to do it, but it happened anyway on an accident. I didn't mean it. My bwain told my body not to, but it leaned in anyway and then it opened my mouth. I tried weally hard to close my mouth but it just bit down on her. It was all an accident! I pwomise."

I am not a softy when it comes to discipline. But, seriously, if that wasn't the best argument of sin nature I have ever heard!"

Honey, that is not an accident. That is sin. You cannot sin in your anger."

We talked very briefly (and in 6 year old terms) about what Paul wrote in Romans:
What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary.
But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up.
Romans 7:15-21 (The Message)

lotsofscotts.blogspot.com

so many thoughts about this i don't know what to think. what's right, what's wrong, through whose perspective. anger flares up, dies down, or else held on and curt. is grace really misunderstood today? what does that mean? i don't know. it looks like mistrust, unkindness and condemnation but things could always be construed another way.

i do know what i wished we look like though.

God, please?

and i wish i was the wisest, most perceptive and discerning of all, so that i could have an answer that made sense to help you get through it.
and i wish i was the gentlest, with the most winning of ways, that i would be able to hand you that bitter pill to swallow.
or i wish i had all power in the world, so i could change your situation and you would be happy again.

i'm really banking on the promise that prayer works though. that God will hear, and my God who is able to do immeasurably above all that we ask or think, will bless you, and keep you, and give you grace. and do all that i wish i could, cuz He can.

today i read through romans 7 & 8.

resounding.

have you ever met someone you'd like to spend Forever with? i can think of two now.

not Forever in the romantic, sadly vague to the point of untruth, a word simply poinked down to fill the space that the mouth unleashes when trying to real.ise the conception of an unknown amount of time happily together, with pink and gold sunset hues in the background. was at timbre last night, and that happened. three months together and they're hoping for forever. no, what i mean is Forever in the literal sense, the eternity our hearts know and respond to, the promise we hear whispering in ourselves in the times we are quiet enough, the call of eternity.

but we deny it, bury it, distract ourselves to death. city kids, where's our purpose to be found? what will last when we give up our last breaths?

no wonder we're like sheep without a shepherd, wandering on bleat. and we've gone one step up; sheeps on a rebel cause, fleeing from our guide and into the arms of the butcher. i wish we would think, i wish we would give more consideration to the hard questions. hard questions aren't only meant for the intellectuals.

i would like to see my two friends in Forever.

today feels like monday; i thought it was monday.

today feels like monday because the week has been turned on its head and hours scrumpled up, nights lasting as long as day and longer than days. sleep was caught wide awake, and dreaming of reality. what's a body to do in these situations?

enjoy what one can, i suppose.

because it was quite an eventful week. wrapping up the memories are a walk through the night safari, darkness and fonds and i swear i smelt animal when i walked through the path home. cameras, tripod and sitting on a's shoulders to see the hyenas better while j held my hand for support. i hadn't done that since being a little girl; there's a beautiful trust in resting on someone's shoulders, seems to me.

unrelatedly: we persist in asking why, sometimes because we don't want the answers/truth. it's the old news happening to new people, and the rugged cross providing life and salvation for all who will believe.

"... Contrition is a word that has fallen out from our vocabulary, though it remains a powerful call to one of the deepest places of worship. As David discovered, it is not an easy call to answer; it runs counter to our instinct to run, calling us instead to come near with a broken heart, with our own disappointment. The word "contrite" derives from the Latin word contritus, meaning pulversized or ground to pieces. While this may be exactly the fearful condition we seek to avoid, it is not a word meant to describe what God will do to a running child when he is finally caught. Rather, it describes what happens to a child's heart when she catches a glimpse of the mess inside it. Yet, in the wilful act of allowing our hearts to be broken in pieces by our own sin, it is here that God and God's mercy are nearest. The shattered soul is far closer to wholeness than the one who refuses in fear or vanity to see that it is in pieces at our own hands. To be contrite is to stop running and to turn without panic or pride to the one who has been running with us all along. ..."

http://www.rzim.org/usa/usfv/tabid/436/articleid/10713/cbmoduleid/1133/default.aspx

and today, as much as ever, i am thankful that this world is not all there is. thankful that my God is fully holy, and His is not a relative standard of goodness and justice. that one day, all wrongs will be made right, and every tear will be wiped away. and there shall be no more sorrow, no more pain.

sunday's over, thank God for sundays, i like sundays, but oof, so tired.

so g, r, and i met up today, the most uncoordinated of meetings but sure, i didn't mind. chanced upon a two storied cafe, dark purple walls, mirror squares, and low, soft things everywhere. we napped there, at least g and r did. i leaned too far right, fell off the sofa and stayed squashed awake amongst scattered cushions. daddy called. mtvs played. we didn't know who lady gaga is/was, not enough to identify her at least. r ate wings, g played with her dslr and we took half hearted photos. maybe i'll add one in, if gayle gets around to putting them up. we didn't pose very well.

we stoned our way from an srrfm, interesting concept but it looks like true free markets (in the economic sense) have some way to go before gaining acceptance in singapore. read: a long way, if ever. jayed into another clumation of goods and people, monopolistic competition this time. like the one z and i went to probably exactly a year ago, the one at robber street, or something. green grass, green fence and we sipped soya bean we'd bought along the way. an ant just walked across my thigh and now struts sniffily back and forth the top of mr darcy (my laptop). i've seen him for some days now, always at nights, streaking diagonal up the wall at my right, crossing pencil markings i've drawn onto cream concrete, leaving little anty prints. he has his own business to conduct, he's an ant on a mission. i try not to accidentally demolish his life.

it's five past ten. r's been in bed for some time already. g's been home even longer. i lie back; my sunday's wrapping itself up.

just wanted to think a bit more on the idea of treasures in jars of clay; gotten from an article whose link i've put a couple of posts down. it seems to me most powerful, the confounding picture of strength in weakeness. treasures in jars of clay; who would do that? who else but God, really, i suppose. the first level i really like (from 2 Corinthians 4:7-10) is how as we carry Jesus' death in our bodies His life is manifested in us. which sounds weird in a literal sense but thank God for spiritual understanding. as we live out His death (death to the self, obedience to the cross and so on), His life is made all the more evident in us, mayhaps like a tree that grows from the death of a seed. the imagery and promise of richness and life is good for the thirsting soul.

the second level extends from the individual into community: what the gospel must mean for humanity. knowing that Christ embraced the weak -and weakness- in passion, us having treasures in jars of clay are likewise called to live, finding His strength in our weakness.