Dear readers,
Please excuse the abberation in the previous post; such agitation is rare, and outburst near non-existent. You know I'm usually far more contained.
As of today, I:
- had the nicest time while masquerading as a gp teacher. Met a closely-knit class that was warm enough to invite me for their birthday celebration that took place after our lesson. They are a wild, and wacky bunch, and friendly. Friendly is hard to come by; with my dear boys it took a couple of weeks before we could do the movie/outings/frisbee thing.
- swung from dreadful worry, to trust, to bemusement, to trepidation, to laughter, to contentment. It's terribly draining, and I am so tired now.
- think two weeks is far, far too short to build relationships. I have big shoes to fill, the kids obviously were close to shane (who was also best buds with lucas and kenneth once, cool stuff there) but I think I could try,
if
i
had
the
time.
But I don't. so here comes the mmm. sigh. Indifference, I call upon your name.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
As infuriating as a th (boy) dryer
Thanks, for nothing. I hope you enjoyed fuss free laundry, because all the fuss was on my side.
I hate how you never, ever get any body language. I could be standing there- I was standing there- out of breath and flustered because I’d ran four stories up to ask for your help but dude you just don’t see and awesome, remain stuck to your bed and yak away about some BUTTON on the panel. And afterward check your phone: I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep, and yes I shall leave.
You know the laundry upsets me like nothing else does, you know I get stressed and upset and near tears over how the dryer never works and I have to spend hours on it.
I easily spent five hours waiting for the laundry today.
I know I sound whiny and like I’m throwing a tantrum well YES I AM. You can call it whatever you want, whatever that makes me sit here and cry.
I don’t know why the dryer gets to me like this, I know it looks silly but it’s just so important to me that my laundry is efficiently, warm, clean and nice smelling. I don’t know what I was expecting from you, just maybe, to click on my moniker on msn and ask me how it was going. I guess I would have liked some concern from you.
But it’s near ten now, and I still have to make my way back home. You haven’t come in; I guess you’re still sleeping, the way you were when I went up to return you your clean clothes.
I hate how you never, ever get any body language. I could be standing there- I was standing there- out of breath and flustered because I’d ran four stories up to ask for your help but dude you just don’t see and awesome, remain stuck to your bed and yak away about some BUTTON on the panel. And afterward check your phone: I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep, and yes I shall leave.
You know the laundry upsets me like nothing else does, you know I get stressed and upset and near tears over how the dryer never works and I have to spend hours on it.
I easily spent five hours waiting for the laundry today.
I know I sound whiny and like I’m throwing a tantrum well YES I AM. You can call it whatever you want, whatever that makes me sit here and cry.
I don’t know why the dryer gets to me like this, I know it looks silly but it’s just so important to me that my laundry is efficiently, warm, clean and nice smelling. I don’t know what I was expecting from you, just maybe, to click on my moniker on msn and ask me how it was going. I guess I would have liked some concern from you.
But it’s near ten now, and I still have to make my way back home. You haven’t come in; I guess you’re still sleeping, the way you were when I went up to return you your clean clothes.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
an academic rachel prancing around the library
so quoteth I from aik. He says I look academic (a. and that maybe it's my glasses, and b. except I don't sound academic), and he can imagine me "prancing around the library shelves" (lim, 2008). Along those lines.
I've been working for doctor mark as a research assistant since the exams ended, which means I've been living in the library and that makes for irony. On the first day I spent 9 hours in the library, which is more than the time vested during the entire semester as a student.
It's thursday now, and I've just finished scouring the online database for yet more titles. I think I'm still slightly hungover from last night; my brain's somewhat spacey and structuring my sentences now takes considerably more effort than it normally does. Hopefully I don't make outlandish grammar errors while writing this post.
okay. brain just did a mini trapeez swing in the confines of my skull. definitely still mmhurhurwheeing. But I suppose it's a lot better than it might have been, because I followed the advice of a loving friend and drank more-water-than-jonah-probably-did-when-he-was-larking-around-the-oceans before I slept. Of course, it also means I had to get out of my bed and stumble blearily along the corridor four times in the fourish hours of sleep I clocked. BUTT. I am way extremely super more powerful than derrick, who just woke up, and weiliang, who's probably still sleeping, and aik, who's gone back to crash after drinking water with ang mo guards at the spiffy american embassy. Very impressed with myself, I am.
Alright, I'm off to jucier stuff.
i'm a geek/can't you tell
a coin for a library from the wishing well
with shakespeare, the odessey, of cabbages and kings,
but for now i'm stuck with keramat-ing.
I've been working for doctor mark as a research assistant since the exams ended, which means I've been living in the library and that makes for irony. On the first day I spent 9 hours in the library, which is more than the time vested during the entire semester as a student.
It's thursday now, and I've just finished scouring the online database for yet more titles. I think I'm still slightly hungover from last night; my brain's somewhat spacey and structuring my sentences now takes considerably more effort than it normally does. Hopefully I don't make outlandish grammar errors while writing this post.
okay. brain just did a mini trapeez swing in the confines of my skull. definitely still mmhurhurwheeing. But I suppose it's a lot better than it might have been, because I followed the advice of a loving friend and drank more-water-than-jonah-probably-did-when-he-was-larking-around-the-oceans before I slept. Of course, it also means I had to get out of my bed and stumble blearily along the corridor four times in the fourish hours of sleep I clocked. BUTT. I am way extremely super more powerful than derrick, who just woke up, and weiliang, who's probably still sleeping, and aik, who's gone back to crash after drinking water with ang mo guards at the spiffy american embassy. Very impressed with myself, I am.
Alright, I'm off to jucier stuff.
i'm a geek/can't you tell
a coin for a library from the wishing well
with shakespeare, the odessey, of cabbages and kings,
but for now i'm stuck with keramat-ing.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Saturday, May 03, 2008
an ode to the coca bean
how well do i love thee?
let me count the ways-
i praise thee in skinny jeans lindt,
thy thinness fair appealing,
mine heart sure desiring,
thy melting my tingling.
i adore thee pregnant and swollen,
oh lindt thy blessed name be!
scarce i wait till the brown barriers fall,
yet find thou greater than any shopping mall.
i remember thee plump with promise,
i cherish thee cursed with aneroxia,
for be thou filled with still more savour,
or sorrowing with aluminum valour,
mine eye any how wilt favour,
forsooth- thou knowest i am thine
but.
n'er was mine heart more sure,
nay, nor more true,
the day i tasted thee in royce,
so fine- i changed my name to joyce.
though the clock chime twil
and though my paper on the morrow be ill
i swoon before thy feet
and pant for our next meet.
sweet, sweet royce-
whose cousin be rejoice
i make thee my choice
and scorn all other boys.
let me count the ways-
i praise thee in skinny jeans lindt,
thy thinness fair appealing,
mine heart sure desiring,
thy melting my tingling.
i adore thee pregnant and swollen,
oh lindt thy blessed name be!
scarce i wait till the brown barriers fall,
yet find thou greater than any shopping mall.
i remember thee plump with promise,
i cherish thee cursed with aneroxia,
for be thou filled with still more savour,
or sorrowing with aluminum valour,
mine eye any how wilt favour,
forsooth- thou knowest i am thine
but.
n'er was mine heart more sure,
nay, nor more true,
the day i tasted thee in royce,
so fine- i changed my name to joyce.
though the clock chime twil
and though my paper on the morrow be ill
i swoon before thy feet
and pant for our next meet.
sweet, sweet royce-
whose cousin be rejoice
i make thee my choice
and scorn all other boys.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
in simple words,
Tonight I wanted to write, and to complain about the normalacy of life, but now that I have just put down The Time Traveller's Wife I am sleepy, and tired, and not much good except for stubborness.
The Time Traveller's Wife was not a good book; it took me a long time to understand it, and I had to be patient, which I do not like to be when I am reading. At the end, when I had come to understand it, it made me sad, and lonely for the protagonists. What a cold word. Technicality exists, and is good in its place, but tonight I do not wish to broach technicality. I want to say I was sad for the lovers.
I will write because I promised myself I would, that I would write for you. Tonight I believe that I update about the silly, mundane things in my life not just because I love writing, which I do, love the endless words spilling out silly bubbles bubbling in blather (not) and they fellowship with me and I feel better after we talk. It sounds strange, and I am uneasy at my phrasing but I will keep what I just said. And then go on with what I am trying to say. That when I write, I write for you, my reader. because I want you to love me better, and I think maybe that if I wrote about myself you would know me better and in knowing me, I would know you too.
Sometimes I am scared you read me critically, and think I am mediocre, a word that scares me. But I try anyway. I fiddle around with words, looking for the best one so that you might like what I say. I feel like a child standing before her father and confessing her latest deed, that she read through his boring, boring books, and feeling stupid all the time she is saying it, without knowing why she is feeling stupid, and stupidest of all, why she is telling her father, at all.
I think she wants her daddy to see behind the whats of what she did, and recognise that what she is saying really is, daddy, daddy dear, I love you.
What I have been doing: Printing notes, playing bubble breaker, walking unsteadily down the stairs, and playing ultimate frisbee. I think I am addicted a little, to bubble breaker. I am afraid of walking down stairs because there is a problem with my ability to perceive depth in things that look the same, if I am afraid now what of fifty years later, when I am seventy one? Right now stairs are tricky things, my eyes tense and suddenly I cannot tell the lower stair from the one I am now on. So I hold the rails tighter. Maybe I will be braver, or maybe my husband will not mind walking slowly with me. I do not want my husband to die before me, I do not want to die after I am married, if I have to die please let it be before I am married, or in love. Or is it wrong to ask? Perhaps. I do not know what I want, after all. Alright, I take it back.
An in-between out-of-joint in-the-middle-of-nowhere statement: I shall cut my hair in bangs, shortly before I leave. If I look nice you will miss me, and if I don't I'm off to an inconsequential land. Snide, I know. I think I am denying in dislike. Perhaps I am prejudiced against them westerners.
Otherwise- I had a good time at ulty today, the others were silly and I felt happy. Often I feel so young in different ways. In terms of experience level (and I get so vexed at myself), but mostly in terms of age/ these are working adults and they see me as a little girl in pigtails, they are fond of me and talk to me like I am a girl-child. They tell me that I am so cute, pat my head and call me naive and idealistic. Or else they bully me, and use my name as a substitute when telling blonde jokes. Which is fine, I suppose, I live with labels various people paste on me to make understanding self better, it's just, every so often I pinch myself and remind me that hello rachel, you are -i am- all of twentyone. I think I'm a big girl. oh, I almost forgot to go on. Tonight I caught two silly discs, and was part of a funny plot that involved all the guys stacked vertically for sillystance, since sarah was supposed to make the first cut and then huck one to me. All the main points in the plan were excecuted, and I caught the disc praying hard all the time since my contact lens was blurry, and I couldn't see anything futher than two metres. But adam hucked, and it landed nicely in my arms with janice far behind. Although, she could have caught up and d.ed my disc, but she didn't, so I suppose score one more for me. haha. I'll stop boring/regaling you with my tales. The point is, we were laughing and they were joking after that, and I knew I was part of it, was included, something which happens so rarely for me. Let me just postscript this paragraph by announcing my exuberance: I got to pull!!! (that's three exclaimation marks for you. When was the last time you saw me use three exclamination marks?) Gratitude to adam, who announced he thought that I should pull, bless his white western heart, and to the rest, who generously agreed. And I pulled quite well! yay to rachel. big big smile.
oh, I just need to get my technicalities (again) on throwing right. I'll write more about it one day. I've been meaning to, but not yet.
By way of goodnight: Today I learnt a new word, while mmming over superb lint chocolate with liquid centers. These are very much like the ones ben bought for me when we were delinquenting at heeren, packaged for us in a pleasing prim white plastic bag that said prestige, which were the yums. guangyou taught weiliang and I, while weiliang was in bed and being hilarious in his bleariness. nonce. loveit. I love how guangyou loves words, and the way he teaches them with such obvious enjoyment. Should have been an english major, this one, and till today I wish he was. English classes would have been tons better with him. For that matter, I like hanging out with guangyou and weiliang, although times with them have been too far, and too few. I have to take photos with them before I leave. The D4 guys, I will miss. And I hate it when people don't miss me back.
The Time Traveller's Wife was not a good book; it took me a long time to understand it, and I had to be patient, which I do not like to be when I am reading. At the end, when I had come to understand it, it made me sad, and lonely for the protagonists. What a cold word. Technicality exists, and is good in its place, but tonight I do not wish to broach technicality. I want to say I was sad for the lovers.
I will write because I promised myself I would, that I would write for you. Tonight I believe that I update about the silly, mundane things in my life not just because I love writing, which I do, love the endless words spilling out silly bubbles bubbling in blather (not) and they fellowship with me and I feel better after we talk. It sounds strange, and I am uneasy at my phrasing but I will keep what I just said. And then go on with what I am trying to say. That when I write, I write for you, my reader. because I want you to love me better, and I think maybe that if I wrote about myself you would know me better and in knowing me, I would know you too.
Sometimes I am scared you read me critically, and think I am mediocre, a word that scares me. But I try anyway. I fiddle around with words, looking for the best one so that you might like what I say. I feel like a child standing before her father and confessing her latest deed, that she read through his boring, boring books, and feeling stupid all the time she is saying it, without knowing why she is feeling stupid, and stupidest of all, why she is telling her father, at all.
I think she wants her daddy to see behind the whats of what she did, and recognise that what she is saying really is, daddy, daddy dear, I love you.
What I have been doing: Printing notes, playing bubble breaker, walking unsteadily down the stairs, and playing ultimate frisbee. I think I am addicted a little, to bubble breaker. I am afraid of walking down stairs because there is a problem with my ability to perceive depth in things that look the same, if I am afraid now what of fifty years later, when I am seventy one? Right now stairs are tricky things, my eyes tense and suddenly I cannot tell the lower stair from the one I am now on. So I hold the rails tighter. Maybe I will be braver, or maybe my husband will not mind walking slowly with me. I do not want my husband to die before me, I do not want to die after I am married, if I have to die please let it be before I am married, or in love. Or is it wrong to ask? Perhaps. I do not know what I want, after all. Alright, I take it back.
An in-between out-of-joint in-the-middle-of-nowhere statement: I shall cut my hair in bangs, shortly before I leave. If I look nice you will miss me, and if I don't I'm off to an inconsequential land. Snide, I know. I think I am denying in dislike. Perhaps I am prejudiced against them westerners.
Otherwise- I had a good time at ulty today, the others were silly and I felt happy. Often I feel so young in different ways. In terms of experience level (and I get so vexed at myself), but mostly in terms of age/ these are working adults and they see me as a little girl in pigtails, they are fond of me and talk to me like I am a girl-child. They tell me that I am so cute, pat my head and call me naive and idealistic. Or else they bully me, and use my name as a substitute when telling blonde jokes. Which is fine, I suppose, I live with labels various people paste on me to make understanding self better, it's just, every so often I pinch myself and remind me that hello rachel, you are -i am- all of twentyone. I think I'm a big girl. oh, I almost forgot to go on. Tonight I caught two silly discs, and was part of a funny plot that involved all the guys stacked vertically for sillystance, since sarah was supposed to make the first cut and then huck one to me. All the main points in the plan were excecuted, and I caught the disc praying hard all the time since my contact lens was blurry, and I couldn't see anything futher than two metres. But adam hucked, and it landed nicely in my arms with janice far behind. Although, she could have caught up and d.ed my disc, but she didn't, so I suppose score one more for me. haha. I'll stop boring/regaling you with my tales. The point is, we were laughing and they were joking after that, and I knew I was part of it, was included, something which happens so rarely for me. Let me just postscript this paragraph by announcing my exuberance: I got to pull!!! (that's three exclaimation marks for you. When was the last time you saw me use three exclamination marks?) Gratitude to adam, who announced he thought that I should pull, bless his white western heart, and to the rest, who generously agreed. And I pulled quite well! yay to rachel. big big smile.
oh, I just need to get my technicalities (again) on throwing right. I'll write more about it one day. I've been meaning to, but not yet.
By way of goodnight: Today I learnt a new word, while mmming over superb lint chocolate with liquid centers. These are very much like the ones ben bought for me when we were delinquenting at heeren, packaged for us in a pleasing prim white plastic bag that said prestige, which were the yums. guangyou taught weiliang and I, while weiliang was in bed and being hilarious in his bleariness. nonce. loveit. I love how guangyou loves words, and the way he teaches them with such obvious enjoyment. Should have been an english major, this one, and till today I wish he was. English classes would have been tons better with him. For that matter, I like hanging out with guangyou and weiliang, although times with them have been too far, and too few. I have to take photos with them before I leave. The D4 guys, I will miss. And I hate it when people don't miss me back.
Monday, April 28, 2008
maybe i'm too relaxed
because i don't even know my exam dates. thought cinematic discourse was on saturday, when it's actually... the day after tomorrow. gg. no, make that ggXX.
you see i have regressed into game speak.
thank God for jon, who managed to get wireless, and lend me his laptop. otherwise, i'd have to go allllllll the way back home, because i haven't printed my notes for this module. grimace. so here i am, waiting for the prof's 100+ slides X 13 lectures to download onto his desktop. meh. mehmehmeh.
okay, it's just about done. SO. rachel should.......... hrmmm. edit the slides today, email them to herself, print them out tonight, highlight them tomorrow, and also attempt past year papers if she ever finds any of them online. yes. and then twiddle her thumbs, and write off this module, and hopes she gets a B for it. i can't afford any more B-s and C+s! used them all up already. whatever that means.
in the meantime, i shall take comfort in my faithful teh peng.
love, people. toodles.
you see i have regressed into game speak.
thank God for jon, who managed to get wireless, and lend me his laptop. otherwise, i'd have to go allllllll the way back home, because i haven't printed my notes for this module. grimace. so here i am, waiting for the prof's 100+ slides X 13 lectures to download onto his desktop. meh. mehmehmeh.
okay, it's just about done. SO. rachel should.......... hrmmm. edit the slides today, email them to herself, print them out tonight, highlight them tomorrow, and also attempt past year papers if she ever finds any of them online. yes. and then twiddle her thumbs, and write off this module, and hopes she gets a B for it. i can't afford any more B-s and C+s! used them all up already. whatever that means.
in the meantime, i shall take comfort in my faithful teh peng.
love, people. toodles.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
you see, sometimes love doesn't seem worth very much
chel says: oh okay. yeah i should be.... probably earlier than you though. (: what are you doing now?
lyage says: just got home not long ago. gonna bathe / prep for interview i guess. you?
chel says: so late?? i'm just sitting here... just watched a documentary on deep sea life so i'm quite (: , but at the same time i'm mostly wondering why i bother keeping my heart
lyage says: my dear. that depends on keeping your heart from WHO??
actually if the right person does come along, i don't think it's any more righteous keeping our hearts than giving it away right?
chel says: sigh. true. but it's hard keeping, while waiting for this right person to come.
and arrrghhhhhh right now i'm just remembering the way he's so happy to see me, bears with me and tries to make me smile
lyage says: ):
ahh, yes that sounds like something hard to fight off.
rachhhhhhhhhel pray pray pray for strength
God ALREADY has someone perfect planned for you
You know i remember once someone telling me. it's like. how we sometimes have to make sacrifices to do what's right before God.
How we sometimes have to get out of our comfort zones.
and it might be painful,
but how we must remember that Jesus did exactly the same for us.
How HE got out of HIS comfort zone to come down to earth, dwell among us sinners,
die on the cross.
and THAT is a sacrifice greater and more painful that what we will ever come close to bearing
so, will we do that for Him too. I thought that was something thought provoking for me. maybe you could think about that too(:
chel says: Jesus seems so far away. so His deeds seem cold and hard too. God seems closer. but even then He's still some way away.
lyage says: yes i know what you mean. sometimes i really want God to be closer to me. sometimes he really does feel distant. but i guess He's closer than we imagine, or feel.
he DWELLS inside us man. I think, we could BOTH think of,
living for christ, having a heart for HIM before anyone else.
and being out of our comfort zone if it means being closer to Him, just like He got out of His comfort zone to save us.
chel says: having a heart for Him before anyone else.... this was one of the things i was thinking of, tonight. why give it to Him? why not lock it up, and throw the keys away? giving my heart to Someone else means having to trust Him with it.. that He knows what's best.
but the way i'm feeling tonight, i'm not so sure i want to let Him try me again and again.. as rude as that sounds
lyage says: yes.
"let Him try me again and again"
you know. i used to think that to, and i believe i still am prone to. that God TRIES us.
And he sometimes challenges,
with all these trials and all these things to fight off and GOD why why do you put all these in our lives.
but then i'm learning that it really makes Him sound like a coldhearted, distant disciplinarian, when that cannot be further from what he really is?
because he really, really, is. actually and only. Love. isn't He.
chel says: but there's a lot to love
God chastens those He loves
4Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
it doesn't say that Love chastens
but it seems that He does
and it is hard to understand why
and if He isn't a cold hearted disciplinarian, but only Love, then why?
lyage says: TRUST HIS LOVE.
because sometimes these are challenges just because it isn't OUR way.
not that it is actually a hard way.
becuase steering us from what we think we want is always hard, but he's steering us to something BETTER. that's why!
THAT"S WHY.
and he will lead us to green pastures rachel, let him take our handssss.
and let's just trust Him.
and wait upon Him.
tht's what it's all about right? about giving Him our lives and that means trusting him with it.
i don't know. i don't know too much too.
but let's try.
chel says:aye yes. i forgot, that these are challenges sometimes because it isn't the i-want way. got too caught up.
i'll trust
lyage says: hahaha .i love you rachel, we're not going to give up okay.
i've gotta go noww, but keep praying, He'll keep strengthening. love much
GO SLEEP TOO
don't think too much(:
nightsss (:
lyage says: just got home not long ago. gonna bathe / prep for interview i guess. you?
chel says: so late?? i'm just sitting here... just watched a documentary on deep sea life so i'm quite (: , but at the same time i'm mostly wondering why i bother keeping my heart
lyage says: my dear. that depends on keeping your heart from WHO??
actually if the right person does come along, i don't think it's any more righteous keeping our hearts than giving it away right?
chel says: sigh. true. but it's hard keeping, while waiting for this right person to come.
and arrrghhhhhh right now i'm just remembering the way he's so happy to see me, bears with me and tries to make me smile
lyage says: ):
ahh, yes that sounds like something hard to fight off.
rachhhhhhhhhel pray pray pray for strength
God ALREADY has someone perfect planned for you
You know i remember once someone telling me. it's like. how we sometimes have to make sacrifices to do what's right before God.
How we sometimes have to get out of our comfort zones.
and it might be painful,
but how we must remember that Jesus did exactly the same for us.
How HE got out of HIS comfort zone to come down to earth, dwell among us sinners,
die on the cross.
and THAT is a sacrifice greater and more painful that what we will ever come close to bearing
so, will we do that for Him too. I thought that was something thought provoking for me. maybe you could think about that too(:
chel says: Jesus seems so far away. so His deeds seem cold and hard too. God seems closer. but even then He's still some way away.
lyage says: yes i know what you mean. sometimes i really want God to be closer to me. sometimes he really does feel distant. but i guess He's closer than we imagine, or feel.
he DWELLS inside us man. I think, we could BOTH think of,
living for christ, having a heart for HIM before anyone else.
and being out of our comfort zone if it means being closer to Him, just like He got out of His comfort zone to save us.
chel says: having a heart for Him before anyone else.... this was one of the things i was thinking of, tonight. why give it to Him? why not lock it up, and throw the keys away? giving my heart to Someone else means having to trust Him with it.. that He knows what's best.
but the way i'm feeling tonight, i'm not so sure i want to let Him try me again and again.. as rude as that sounds
lyage says: yes.
"let Him try me again and again"
you know. i used to think that to, and i believe i still am prone to. that God TRIES us.
And he sometimes challenges,
with all these trials and all these things to fight off and GOD why why do you put all these in our lives.
but then i'm learning that it really makes Him sound like a coldhearted, distant disciplinarian, when that cannot be further from what he really is?
because he really, really, is. actually and only. Love. isn't He.
chel says: but there's a lot to love
God chastens those He loves
4Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
it doesn't say that Love chastens
but it seems that He does
and it is hard to understand why
and if He isn't a cold hearted disciplinarian, but only Love, then why?
lyage says: TRUST HIS LOVE.
because sometimes these are challenges just because it isn't OUR way.
not that it is actually a hard way.
becuase steering us from what we think we want is always hard, but he's steering us to something BETTER. that's why!
THAT"S WHY.
and he will lead us to green pastures rachel, let him take our handssss.
and let's just trust Him.
and wait upon Him.
tht's what it's all about right? about giving Him our lives and that means trusting him with it.
i don't know. i don't know too much too.
but let's try.
chel says:aye yes. i forgot, that these are challenges sometimes because it isn't the i-want way. got too caught up.
i'll trust
lyage says: hahaha .i love you rachel, we're not going to give up okay.
i've gotta go noww, but keep praying, He'll keep strengthening. love much
GO SLEEP TOO
don't think too much(:
nightsss (:
i'll trust.
even if the rain warps the reality from my spectacles and my vision is blurred,
i'll not mind the stumbles that short-sightedness brings. i'll still trust that a tree remains a tree, even when i can't see for myself.
because i trust there will come a day, when i see wholly.
and on that day, i'll find that there was beauty even in the bane.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Commissioning Balls and Other Assortments
hullo me, it's been some time since we sat down for a cup of tea and idle chatter. let's do it in points, and soft letters.
1) lyrics. yours truly is what drew berrymore would call a lyrics person if she were acting as sophie, the sophie who had a mean book written about her sophie. (i will never call my child sophie.) if i find not interesting lyrics, thoughtful lyrics, well-written lyrics, i will be hard pressed to like what i am listening to. lyrics.
2) time; i'm leaving in close-to-perhaps-slightly-around-probably-about eight weeks. that isn't a lot of time, and i fear i will never have the time to sit down and realise the days slipping past, like pearls off a string, as anne of green gables would say. i don't want to leave in a rush, i want to sit down, and think, and feel sad, because i remember what, who and why i love. i want to know before i go.
3) A quote that has to be immortalised- Carrying an umbrella is like a tree moving; happy feelings come too (mommy, 2008).
Amazing stuff, my mom.
4) Comms Balls! As with tradition, I'll show photos from each. (:
date: aug 05
date: joe
vocation: armour
1) lyrics. yours truly is what drew berrymore would call a lyrics person if she were acting as sophie, the sophie who had a mean book written about her sophie. (i will never call my child sophie.) if i find not interesting lyrics, thoughtful lyrics, well-written lyrics, i will be hard pressed to like what i am listening to. lyrics.
2) time; i'm leaving in close-to-perhaps-slightly-around-probably-about eight weeks. that isn't a lot of time, and i fear i will never have the time to sit down and realise the days slipping past, like pearls off a string, as anne of green gables would say. i don't want to leave in a rush, i want to sit down, and think, and feel sad, because i remember what, who and why i love. i want to know before i go.
3) A quote that has to be immortalised- Carrying an umbrella is like a tree moving; happy feelings come too (mommy, 2008).
Amazing stuff, my mom.
4) Comms Balls! As with tradition, I'll show photos from each. (:
The first ever Ball-
date: aug 05
date: joe
vocation: armour
hotel: hyatt
commentary: given (:
_______________________________________
Comms Ball 2
date: june 2006
date: joe
vocation: armour
hotel: hilton
commentary: given too (:
____________________________________
Comms Ball 3
date: march 2008
date: jem
vocation: infantry
hotel: shangri la
running commentry: i cut jem's head off/i did it again/now his face is gone/i make nice space for sarah/yf@ shangri la, haha/gayle said sarah looked like a bride/this is the face to put when you don't get to go for the after-party at dempsy road/after that face, cut off the forehead/but make sure your guy always smiles.
________________________________
Alright I'm sleepy, we can stop now. I'll put up photos from immanuel's Social Night some time, next time. (:
Thursday, April 17, 2008
heart herder
Guard well, this heart of yours
It must not fly where it will-
It must not fly where it will-
In spite of what it sighs.
Heart, what is wrong
with you?
Why do you not forget
Heart, what is wrong
with you?
Why do you not forget
Though you seek to walk the stairs
I will stay you.
I would like to be honest, tonight. The path to refreshing my heart, it's been hard, and sometimes it doesn't feel like a refreshing at all. I try to stay true, and walk the straightest I can, but it seems I stumble along like a fool. I wish I could ride the storm with my head held higher, but my heart batters me with a longing that is louder than words, and my clumsy principles - it has no voice. The flame flickers and is oh, so small and weak. Often, times like now, I have absolutely, completely no answer as to why I do not turn back and knock on the door.
It's hard to find the words, to speak. I try, but the cards I draw are a blank, again and again, and my mind cannot fill them. How do I describe what I feel, when I cannot answer why I asked for this? And even as I accuse my heart of battering me, it has itself been hard hit. It feels responsible when I remember my grievence was not only towards myself, that another had to care too. It tugs at me when little memories and reminders surface, oh I wish I could be less vague, that I could explain myself. That I am not dumb when questioned.
Just- why did we not behave ourselves, to the point where this was what I choose.
But I know there will come a time when I forget why I wrote this entry at all. I'll wait till then. I'll wait it out.
But I know there will come a time when I forget why I wrote this entry at all. I'll wait till then. I'll wait it out.
there ain't no woofer in my room, no more
Saturday, April 12, 2008
It has been a long week. There was much to be done, and many thoughts to think.
I sat down here for awhile and tried, to talk about them in some semblence of logical frames but catergorising them as topics proved too difficult and I found myself deleting more than I wrote. So I decided, I will take what comes; for now my objective is to string coherent sentences that flow in some kind of direction.
Abruptly- I've been pondering a lot about relationships these days. Nothing particularly in-depth, mostly watching of couples and people and thinking about them, what they do. I find that affectionate acts have become foreign, and as of now I cannot imagine opening myself up like they. More I cannot imagine: accepting, and allowing. someone into my life, building my life with said someone, investing, and willingly putting time and effort for him. etc etc etc. All these go so far deeper than a friendship, but friendship is all I have now to offer anyone. I do not think I have within me to give more. Not now anyway, while I am still feeling my way through, and trying to regain that which I gave away. Funny, I sound like I have lost hope.
mmm. I was catching up with a friend of mine last night, and at the end of many yakults and louhan guo I am somewhat vexed. Why do I not get impulse gifts of pretty baubles and trinklets? Surely NUS' bazaars are not any plainer than SMU's; I would like pretty earrings too. But I suppose I am sounding like a spoilt child now. Alright, I'll hush. It's just, little bits of prettiness makes the world go round. There ought to be more guys like that friend of mine.
Moving on, onto another tilting of my head. In other words, on another night, I was chatting away with raghu and in the midst of all the streams and rivulets of easy conversation he said something I really liked, when he was talking about his past romances, something along the lines of when a new relationship comes... all the bad memories and times of the old one fades... because there is new hope. I really did like that, I suppose it was because it was really revelant that night. But I was not thinking of that line for myself. For that night, I believed that hope in you means hope in me. But it doesn't always work that way; sometimes it's about who is left feeling sadder and by all accounts I think strangely enough, I've been tagged It.
On blocking of feelings and boys: wilson said that boys do it better, ben ulty said that once before too and just today guangyou said that guys are strong.
There. I've written enough. Catharsis has taken place.
And there are happy things, there are. Like spontaneous singing sessions with my father, as he decides to strum his guitar. Moments like those, like it was just now, remind me that there are things that matter more, if only I remember them, like the sound of my daddy's voice and mine in song.
I sat down here for awhile and tried, to talk about them in some semblence of logical frames but catergorising them as topics proved too difficult and I found myself deleting more than I wrote. So I decided, I will take what comes; for now my objective is to string coherent sentences that flow in some kind of direction.
Abruptly- I've been pondering a lot about relationships these days. Nothing particularly in-depth, mostly watching of couples and people and thinking about them, what they do. I find that affectionate acts have become foreign, and as of now I cannot imagine opening myself up like they. More I cannot imagine: accepting, and allowing. someone into my life, building my life with said someone, investing, and willingly putting time and effort for him. etc etc etc. All these go so far deeper than a friendship, but friendship is all I have now to offer anyone. I do not think I have within me to give more. Not now anyway, while I am still feeling my way through, and trying to regain that which I gave away. Funny, I sound like I have lost hope.
mmm. I was catching up with a friend of mine last night, and at the end of many yakults and louhan guo I am somewhat vexed. Why do I not get impulse gifts of pretty baubles and trinklets? Surely NUS' bazaars are not any plainer than SMU's; I would like pretty earrings too. But I suppose I am sounding like a spoilt child now. Alright, I'll hush. It's just, little bits of prettiness makes the world go round. There ought to be more guys like that friend of mine.
Moving on, onto another tilting of my head. In other words, on another night, I was chatting away with raghu and in the midst of all the streams and rivulets of easy conversation he said something I really liked, when he was talking about his past romances, something along the lines of when a new relationship comes... all the bad memories and times of the old one fades... because there is new hope. I really did like that, I suppose it was because it was really revelant that night. But I was not thinking of that line for myself. For that night, I believed that hope in you means hope in me. But it doesn't always work that way; sometimes it's about who is left feeling sadder and by all accounts I think strangely enough, I've been tagged It.
On blocking of feelings and boys: wilson said that boys do it better, ben ulty said that once before too and just today guangyou said that guys are strong.
There. I've written enough. Catharsis has taken place.
And there are happy things, there are. Like spontaneous singing sessions with my father, as he decides to strum his guitar. Moments like those, like it was just now, remind me that there are things that matter more, if only I remember them, like the sound of my daddy's voice and mine in song.
Monday, April 07, 2008
To me, after reading some of your blog, have the feeling that you are haughty and presumptuous-
according to some anonymous dude on my wordpress account.
ohhhhwell. Guess it shouldn't mean much. After all, it was my face on our jc class photo that ben pointed to and said,
"you know, the first time I met you I thought you were a stuck-up, arrogant, ang-mo speaking bitch".
Which also pretty much is the template for people confessing their first impresion of me.
Just wondering if I should have approved and let the tirade go through. 'twas a comment longer than this post. so many words.
The commentor also sounds scarily like that computer creep from when I was teaching at acs.
My happy comos has been thrown into disarray for the moment. ):
ohhhhwell. Guess it shouldn't mean much. After all, it was my face on our jc class photo that ben pointed to and said,
"you know, the first time I met you I thought you were a stuck-up, arrogant, ang-mo speaking bitch".
Which also pretty much is the template for people confessing their first impresion of me.
Just wondering if I should have approved and let the tirade go through. 'twas a comment longer than this post. so many words.
The commentor also sounds scarily like that computer creep from when I was teaching at acs.
My happy comos has been thrown into disarray for the moment. ):
Thursday, March 27, 2008
dear po po
You are gone, and any semblence of grief I might have had is likewise dissapated, replaced only with a weariness at following the rituals of mourning.
I wear a thin cotton shirt, white, for you, and my other grandmother pinned on the kakhi coloured patch even though I do not know why it is that colour, and neither blue, nor black. My nails are stripped of their pretty gold as a sign of respect for you, and that I mourn the most, because I do not have my own bottle, nor lacquer, to make them nice again.
My family's struggling with all the strange beliefs your death has imposed on us. It was distasteful to see your face so coloured, your lips so garish. You were not like that in life. You were austere. The pearl wedged between your lips; they say it's meant to guard you toward the afterlife but I can only think of how uncomfortable it must be if so, and if you would not look funny.
There are many things to say, po po. How my mind easily summons back images of yellow, yellow banners with strange signs, yellow walls of canvas, and entire mock-up of the taoist courts of heaven, and white robed monks weaving in and out of the altars where they take a potted plant and tell my uncles to offer gifts to you. Of funeral music, and chanting, and how I mind none of these.
There is much I think about, but I think enough has been said. God bless your soul.
I wear a thin cotton shirt, white, for you, and my other grandmother pinned on the kakhi coloured patch even though I do not know why it is that colour, and neither blue, nor black. My nails are stripped of their pretty gold as a sign of respect for you, and that I mourn the most, because I do not have my own bottle, nor lacquer, to make them nice again.
My family's struggling with all the strange beliefs your death has imposed on us. It was distasteful to see your face so coloured, your lips so garish. You were not like that in life. You were austere. The pearl wedged between your lips; they say it's meant to guard you toward the afterlife but I can only think of how uncomfortable it must be if so, and if you would not look funny.
There are many things to say, po po. How my mind easily summons back images of yellow, yellow banners with strange signs, yellow walls of canvas, and entire mock-up of the taoist courts of heaven, and white robed monks weaving in and out of the altars where they take a potted plant and tell my uncles to offer gifts to you. Of funeral music, and chanting, and how I mind none of these.
There is much I think about, but I think enough has been said. God bless your soul.
Monday, March 24, 2008
odds and ends
1) I'll put up a more detailed post of jem's Commissioning Ball, promise.2) gayle tried to shift to wordpress recently, but funnily enough she's back at diaryland, citing the same reasons I did. There must be something about natty old bolsters from our child pasts, soaked with drool, infussed with sleep, dreams and bedtime smells that linger on in the form of habit so that we cannot leave what we have grown beside.
3) I strained my hamstring after training on saturday, so now I walk slightly off-balance and feel a sharp discomfort when I shift my balance.
4) It was a crazy week, crazier weekend, but I'm thinking of it now happy. The curls are not staying, and I am mourning somewhat over my shortened and salon-smelling hair, but the thought that makes all this worthwhile, is that my tresses were perfect the night it mattered. I'll deal with the aftermath somehow.
5) I have such pretty, pretty nails and even though it's such a frivolous thing, they make my heart lift. Gold, please, and some lacquer as a top coat. So girlish, but I am glad anyhow.
6) This week is week9, and I now think of school in assignment terms, not the lesson timetable. There are many, but I shall get through them somehow and then there will be greater events to coordinate when this sem ends.
Friday, March 21, 2008
for you okay
dear best [guy] friend,
Alright, we took 20+ hours to find the Dress. Immense effort. But even now, even now, I wonder if I'll look good enough for you. I want to, to make up for missing the parade that meant so much to you. But I don't know if I can? And that thought makes for a planative expression on the face. I'll try to look as pretty as I can, and as long as you're proud of your date, I'll smile at the other girls too. Support me k?
love,
jinx partner.
Alright, we took 20+ hours to find the Dress. Immense effort. But even now, even now, I wonder if I'll look good enough for you. I want to, to make up for missing the parade that meant so much to you. But I don't know if I can? And that thought makes for a planative expression on the face. I'll try to look as pretty as I can, and as long as you're proud of your date, I'll smile at the other girls too. Support me k?
love,
jinx partner.
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