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.

speaking of waiting, look what arrived in the mail today (yes, the mail as in letterbox mail. because my friends love me so):

Clinging to God in Solitude
by Henri Nouwen

'When we enter into solitude to be with God alone, we quickly discover how dependent we are without the many distractions of our daily lives, we feel anxious and tense when nobody speaks to us, calls on us, or needs our help, we start feeling like nobodies.

Then we begin wonering whether we are useful, valuable, and significant. Our tendency is to leave this fearful solitude quickly and get busy again to reassure ourselves that we are "somebodies". But that is a temptation, because what makes us somebodies is not other people's responses to us but God's eternal love for us.

To claim the truth of ourselves we have to cling to our God in solitude as to the One who makes us who we are.'

Emphasis mine.

while this hasn't really been my experience (i do get out and go about, meeting people, working with projects etc), i think it captures the perspective that people tend to look through to me. often the questions they ask, 'what do you do?', 'so you haven't found a job?', 'when are you going to start working?', 'and until then..?', reflect the mindset that a jawb is my end goal, when really, there are goals to be appreciated and fulfilled in this time too. i remain really thankful that God has given me this space of x months (where x is a number only He knows) to rest, to expand, to be.

so let's end with the verse mary-ruth wrote:

"Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom

or the strong man boast of his strength

or the rich man boast of his riches.

But let him who boasts boast about this:

that he understands and knows me,

that I am the Lord,

who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth,

for in these I delight"

Jeremiah 9:23-24

v24 gives me the shivers man, and makes my heart expand.

last night, i dreamt of stairways and stairwells, sinister agents and secret meetings. it ended with a young taxi driver getting into trouble, and me running through unending alleys in a dark night.

i was looking at old posts, and realised i used to be terribly personal. these days i've switched over to ___ .

speaking of these days, it's been a wonderful few-many months, since may/july, however you want to mark the start point. and at the same time it strikes me more clearly than ever that singaporeans associate very strongly productivity with doing, in other words it's very hard for them to understand (if they do at all) that times of waiting can also be-and has been for me- times of productivity. and i'm never very good at explaining myself anyway so invariably they leave with the same ideas they came with. oops and bleah, unambiguous sign that yours truly must never sign for miss universe. hmm but seriously, there are some kind of questions/inquiries that leave me dumb.

in any case, i wonder when this happy time will end. it has to, ultimately if i am to go on to the next phase and i've said what i have to to God, so it's alright. it's all good.