The Other Girl

Short story, copyright mine.

The train ride to the airport was 4 hours' long.
Four-and-a-half - to be exact.
Both of them sat in silence, watching the usual passengers; made up of a few frail elderly gentlemen, students in transit to their music classes; and chattering aunt-figures busy about their activities of housekeeping errands and the purchase of weekly groceries. Three seats away, a baby suddenly gave a high-pitched wail, jolting her into reality for a moment. She unzipped her double-breasted jacket. It was a rather hot day.

She looked inquisitively at him; the familiar face and figure that she had known and loved for so long. With a wave of sentimentalism, she impulsively slipped her hand into the hollow of his arm where his elbow bent at an angle. She squeezed it in assurance, in a way only old lovers do. In response, he smiled ruefully and stroked her gloved hand like one would a small kitten. They were a nondescript couple, he being tall and broadly-built, but unfortunately not blessed with the symmetry of face and form - he was just pleasant, but rather boring to look at. She too, low-profile and seemingly plain, neither statesque nor petite, she could be described as 'average'; someone more remembered for perhaps her intellect and kind nature rather than beauty or poise. The forces that joined them together as a couple were more of the sort of a slow, mutual affection for each other; rather than a passionate, volatile kind. No fanciful romantic declarations of love was exchanged between them in their rather odd courtship; rather, it was the thoughtful acts of kindness and selfless consideration that separated their union from one of a mere casual friendship.

He spoke first, carefully weighing each word and speaking seriously, as he was wont to do.
"Dear... I'm glad to be home at last. It's been a long time."
"Going home, you mean."
He nodded in assent and she knew he was thinking of seeing his parents and sister; the family he missed so much, especially during the bitter winters in Boston. She knew too, that his heart was not with her. She never suspected that someone like him, so insipid, loyal, and faithful - would be capable of doing anything to hurt her in any way. And it was true; he could not. But in those brief months when he was in another's acquaintance, he seemed so much more cheerful. He was by nature melancholy in disposition; but it seemed that the other girl's mere presence could transform him altogether, into a livelier, lighter being. Some creatures possess this marvellous ability of influencing individuals at whim.

Yen too wished that she could find someone who would make her heart pound, someone to sweep her up in his arms and sprinkle magic dust into her ordinary existence. Of course Nick stayed faithful to her. He had neither the propensity nor the capacity to manage both her and the other girl. She never knew the other girl's name, though they sometimes saw each other at extended family gatherings. She knew, through these chance occurences, that the other girl might have developed an emotional attachment to her beau; and similarly, one was developed by him, too. The other girl always smiled politely - too politely - at Yen. Yen admired her sense of independence and spirit; she was cultured and friendly, and even charmed grumpy ladies and men alike; with a toss of her fairy hair and sparkling, captivating smile. There was once, when Yen discovered her looking at Yen, with such a longing, wistful look, that Yen's heart went out to the girl immediately. She wished she could tell the girl "I know", and hug her and reassure her that it would be alright.

Then, as abruptly as the girl had came, she left. Perhaps deliberately, out of their lives she disappeared. Yen heard that through mutual friends she had decided to take up residence in an entirely different environment from theirs, for the moment. Though he said nothing, she observed changes in Nick afterward. He no longer wrote to the girl, nor did they correspond in any way. He became gloomier than ever, using long sighs as respites between silences. She wanted to comfort him and give him the freedom to choose, but she knew the mere question of his fidelty both in body and spirit would send him into a deeper state of moodiness. So she said nothing; and that was two years since. Oftentimes, she still remembered the girl, wondering what kind of life she was leading, whether she was married, or leading an exciting life exploring the seven seas, everywhere she embarked she would charm young and old alike with her witty phrases and delightful voice. Yen knew that this type of girl would not be suitable for their ordinary existence in their world; it would probably stifle and kill her spirit. Yet, she felt a tinge of envy as she imagined sharing a life with this captivating personality; and as Nick as not dissimilar to her, she knew, that he had imagined it, too. She had doubts about their impending union.

Suddenly, she stretched her limbs and clutched her sling bag, thinking rapidly. It was as though something like magic fairy dust came out from nowhere and settled upon her. She could almost detect the scent of fresh marigolds dancing in the breeze, coupled with her mother's famous apple crumble. Perhaps that was the smell of magic, the fragrace of freedom. She knew it was a crazy thing to do, but for once in her life she would be impulsive. They would take the flight as planned; together, from Boston to Singapore. But where his journey ended, she would make plans for a new one.

She knew he would not try to follow.



The train ride to the airport was 4 hours' long.
Four-and-a-half - to be exact.
Finally I am going home - he thought, pensively. He was supposed to be overjoyed, yet with a bittersweet tinge he remembered the happy times spent with his friends and classmates in Boston. He wondered when would he ever see them again. It was always like that, as one gets older, one's friends, the ones that are really treasured leave; one by one, and all that is left is perhaps smiling photographs and stored correspondences. His girlfriend of 5 years who was seated next to him, reassuringly squeezed his arm, as though she could read his thoughts. He smiled benignly, knowing that there would be many changes in his homeland since he first left.

There were still times when he thought of Laura, first a sweet fondness; then - as if guiltily banishing her into the darkest recessess of his mind, stopped; and thought no more. There was a quaint sentimentalism of how he kept imprints of Laura on his life (carefully hoarded away from his girlfriend lest she might misunderstand.) Yes, there were many happy smiley photographs; and there were the memos and cute messages they wrote to each other. He never really thought about discarding them, he felt all along that he would meet her again, after these years, and then she would delightfully exclaim how touching it was that he had still remembered her.

Laura seemed so much like an enigma to him, even in these months when he felt sure that she meant something to him, he could never tell whether she felt the same way for him. She seemed to give so much of herself in every endeavor, every friendship; that each becomes enriching; almost intense. Despite her gaiety there was a deep peace that he could find in her presence, however erratic she seemed she never ceased to have a positive impact on him. He did not know when she left Singapore, but he knew that there was nothing that could stop her from going if she set her heart on it.
It was so like her, he thought. Laura had once told him that she preferred not to say goodbye, no tears; just a well-planned quiet, sudden departure suited her. She lived for happiness and it would probably tear her apart to see anyone sad at her farewell.

He missed her so. It was unwise to compare her with Yen, his girlfriend. They were two unique individuals that had left a huge imprint on his not-very-long life. After all, they were about to be married. And he could not be gladder, having his closest friend as his bride. His parents had insisted on an engagement party the fortnight after their return, and he was happy to oblige. The union of their two families was almost inevitable since the time he asked Yn to be his girlfriend. In fact, both parents were already so close that they met regularly for dinners and such. And Nick did not mind, he actually cherished the idea of both families being close-knit. Yen would be a wonderful wife, submissive and easy-going, she would never have an inkling of the tremulous emotions he had when Laura was around.

Nick sighed contently. He was given to sighs nowadays, one of those long, heaving ones that became a part of his personality. All he wanted was a simple, stable life - and he could see it ahead of him; a successful career that still left time for his family, and other recreational pursuits, two healthly, cute kids...
"Except that... is that what you really want?" Laura had asked him once. Nick thought that no one really knew what they really wanted, it was either something they were taught to want, or influenced by the various reasons to; such as religosity, or Society's constraints. Heck, if he resided in Albania his idea of a simple, stable life would be to live on a farming commune in a well-watered, lush valley. Laura had once told him that he was boring, and he agreed, after some consideration. He had no wish to compete in academia with high-flyers, although his natural intellect gave him far better results than most in his field. He wanted a mediocre life, even though his wealthy family gave him opportunities that would never be possible for one in an average-income family. He smiled ruefully to himself. 'Yea, I am lucky...'

With Yen by his side, faithful and true, he smiled as he looked forward to sharing a lasting union with her. If only Laura... 'No', he shook his head. There was no room in his heart for Laura. Only Yen, now. Perhaps all along, Laura knew she could never ursurp the place Yen had, in his regard. A girl like Laura would not choose to settle down; Nick suspected that she would wreak havoc on his placid, conservative family. Docile, quiet, unassuming Yen suited their tastes better as a suitable prospect for him. He was looking forward to seeing his parents and sister, reunited as a fmaily, finally. It was such a long journey, but soon they would be on the flight to Singapore.

I still need a best friend

It's really tough having my good friends away; the ones that I only tell my secret fears to. It suddenly dawned on me that I have an isolationist policy. Oh well it beats having your innermost thoughts being intentionally spilled out onto the next victim of whoever happens to pick up your call/reply to your sms at the moment. I don't make fair-weather friends, in fact I dispose of them like the wind. Never will I trust those, who only call you when they need you and when you need them they are always busy. Self centred freaks that cannot control their impulses. Some friends are not worth the heartache for. I just don't think it's worth my time, even though Boon tried to reconcile with me (So what if it's CNY...) I just brusquely replied, Hey, don't think it's CNY you can reconcile with me (with a sardonic smile on my face) go and write a reflections paper on all you've done! He slunked away with his tail in his knees... I'm still waiting for him to say sorry to me which he never will. So too bad. It just shows the character of the person which is known to all but himself. Bad memories aside, even though I don't talk about Mr BestFriend doesn't mean I don't care. Or I don't miss him (in a very platonic sense.) Maybe somethings are taking up my time and energy so much that I put him in a small cupboard, neglected for a while... I should be like Deb, she has the old photos of us doing crazy things pasted on her wardrobe side - I was pleasantly surprised by that... and she also kept all the christmas presents that I made through the years (Last year I stopped making them.) Her mum could even recognize me through the photos! So touched.


So when I'm feeling hurt, who do I go to?

It's good to know that my dependence is still on God. Even though sometimes I still need a best friend.

Beautiful Soul

A really nice song that I can relate to at this point of time...

Listen: http://www.rickdees.net/Sitex/weekly_audio/beautiful_acoustic.mp3

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I won't let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

I know that you are something special
To you I'd be always faithful
I want to be what you always needed
Then I hope you'll see the heart in me

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
Your beautiful soul, yeah

You might need time to think it over
But im just fine moving forward
I'll ease your mind
If you give me the chance
I will never make you cry
c`mon lets try

By Jesse McCartney on Rick Dees' Weekly Top 40.

7 days 7 nights love is in the air

Next week I start work. Finally!

Next week I start leading the new cell.

Next week is the lovey-dovey couples' day otherwise known as Valentines'.

Was posed the question, If I was in love, what is the one gift I'd like to receive from the special person?

He had a good answer for it, he said that if you are really in love anything would do 'cuz it would be from the person you like. =) (So it's simple for me: I'd just keep hugging him to make him happy!) For me, it's a simple answer : His heart, of course. Afterall, could chocolates, roses and diamonds bring me happiness if there was no love in it, no heartfelt sentiments to it? It becomes a cheap commemoration of the occasion, a consumeristic effort to push the customers to be interested in a quaint holiday based on profit-making capabilities.

Hmmm. I suddenly realised that my other half would be dead broke at this time. Besides CNY (in future, have to give out angpows), it's my birthday and v-day too. Haha. When things happen they happen all at once! Aye.

We 're sort of like a 'weekend couple'

Dad's back finally... haven't told Dad about him. I thank God for liberal parents (not overtly-liberal, mind...) that are kind enough to trust my taste and actions. Frankly, I think they couldn't be more than happy after worrying whether I cannot find a guy to my liking... as I'd been single for more than 3 years now. His parents are slightly protective, I'm worried that they won't allow us to be together, I trust though, that everything will work out fine. We had a nice talk till 4 am today... It's one of the best things in life to find someone you can just share your idiosyncrasies with and share emotions without being too emotional, say what's on your mind knowing that it's not in a manipulative manner, but with the best interests of the other person in mind. I'm so glad that I've found him, that he wants me too. Being on the verge of adult-hood but still with a slightly narrow naive thinking, I do wonder at times what is the best approach to take in this course of events. Told him I needed more assurance that it's going to work out. He seems so guarded to me - with the best intentions of guarding my heart as well, but I do need a little more affection. It's been good so far how he managed to express himself verbally - something most Singaporean guys lack, or don't have the guts to do. There's an acute lack of chivalry from local guys these days, but he more than makes up for it... oh, the little charming one... =)

The past failed relationships... they do not 'haunt' me per se, but rather it's a stinging memory of how bad things could turn out without precautions. It's so easy to fall into sin when both are consumed foolishly by intoxicating feelings of love. Yet, perhaps I was too young then, to recognize the alarms, the warning signs, but naively lost my trust and innocence all too soon. We never slept together, my previous boyfriend and I; but we did many things that caused great regret and hurt to one another. When things turn bad, it was really bad. I learn most from personal experiences more than any other; but it was a hard lesson and I hope with all my heart I don't have to learn it all over again.

This time, I'm adamant to start out right, with him.... 'Cause I want it to last. Not seeing him this week is 'killing' me, I think it's because I have the desire to spend some of the last vestiges of my time together with him before I start work. The work-oriented people we are, I fear that we will scarcely make time once the busy-periods set in. And, I realised its possible to miss someone living 4 bus stops away. I'm determined though to focus this time and... ... love selflessly, if it is possible. We will gradually grow closer together, now it's a limited time offer or a once-a week deal... which makes me miss him more!!!!!

We're sort of like a 'weekend couple' - both of us being too busy during the week - He with hostelling activities and studies, me with ministry and work. We only meet friday evenings and sometimes stay late out after saturday services to catch up. That's already very very little time that we spend together. Nic was surprised, he told me, 'If you are together you are supposed to spend more time together you know?' Hmmm... like how much time? Personally I do always wonder why long-distance relationships work(not for me, though!)... could it be perhaps, they have no opportunity to be mad at each other 'cuz every little time spent together is precious. *Sniff* Hurry up and graduate soon, alright? Just 4 more years... haha!

Then again this leads me to wonder if I see my husband everyday does it make us sick of having each other, or do we be thankful for the opportunity? Sometimes humans are like that, I don't understand the psychology of our makeup either. I watched Amazing Race the season finale yesterday and the couple I was rooting for was Adam and Rebecca, the 'underdog' team.... they were constantly bickering and sarcastically shouting at each other, getting really peeved all the time... but at the same time they were encouraging in a sort of irritating reverse psychology way. I liked the fact that they were honest with what they felt in the crunch times and did not blame each other but just hollered it out. In relationships, I guess what everyone wants (fundamentally; in serious ones) is to be loved. And to find in their heart they can possibly love someone else so different from them. Oooooo.

Most loved... kuih bangkit ... and...

The gula melaka kuih bangkits at Bengawan Solo are wonderful this year. Think its my fave 'goodie' of the season. Apart from abalone.

My mum is still spring cleaning, wonder when it will end... This year, I will take the time to absorb my new book (The Purpose Driven Church), and smile gratefully at all the nice relatives who give me some nice red packets to buy some nice things. Unfortunately no one ever asks me whether I'm attached or not, it would be meaningful to say, 'Yes I'm seeing someone' , this year. Perhaps I've the student-look. Perhaps it's because 2 of my 30 plus year old uncles are not married yet (And there's a high chance of them not getting married at all!) Gave him a difficult time when he asked to court me... said he had to ask my pastor for permission first, then I'll tell him my answer. He gulped... and I'm sure he'll blush when facing P Kelv, but "if this small thing can't even do, then how about future obstacles?" (chinese direct translation) I'm sure he's got the tenacity to do it, anyway, on saturday let's see what happens...think I'd be pretty blushy too and go hide in the ladies' or grab my friends' sleeves and huddle behind them... haha... saturday also happens to be my birthday not that I'm looking forward to it... Told myself last year that I won't be celebrating any more birthdays... although Kai pleasantly surprised me with this gigantic chocolate cake. Erm, thankfully my family loves chocolate so at the time of this writing it's half gone now. It was a hassle getting it into my already packed fridge but Mum was ingenious - she dissected it into tupperware-sized chunks, and relegated them to the freezer. Must say it tastes better frozen! So no kuih lapis for me this year, a staple of the season which Mum always finds the excuse to buy (my birthday cake, le...)

Alright... I'm so glad that I did not forget to pray, for him, for us...Prayer changes many things, firstly in the atmosphere and then in reality - Rachel's definition of how it works! Main thing is that, ... it works! I still need assurance that it IS going to work - past hurts and issues do resurface and the only thing I can do is to pray, not to let them affect my feelings and actions now, remembering that we are two sinners at the foot of the cross. I'm really thankful for the way he puts my feelings first before his, and how he supports me through my insecurities. This time round, it is so different from the normal way of loving someone - maybe I'm older now, but it's just a slow-unfolding type, not the heady-volatile type I'm prone too. Let's see how it goes, yea...

A new vision for a new cell.

"Ask of me, and I will give you the nations for your inheritance, and the ends of the earth for your possession."


Its a new cell.

It's a new vision!

Psalms 2:8 nkjv.

My new job part one

Normally I make it a rule not to write about my day but more introspective stuff (alas I haven't been utilizing my brain functions as much lately)... but yea friday was an eventful prelude to this weekend.

Went to school to collect my works, was quite proud that they still had it displayed in the display room'... carried the portfolio to my job interview, the job I really want, the one and only one I applied for. I got it! They said they would assess how I did in one of the projects first - aka the apprentice. Not too sure howI'd do, but I'll give it my best shot. Like my title too. Fashion Consultant. And my photo would appear in their website pretty soon... that is, when I find a nice shot of myself. Quite glad that I'll get to start work soon which also means I have a few remaining days to laze at the poolside and the gym, go shopping in the afternoon... yea after two months of doing that, I'm sure I'll miss it dreadfully.

And went to the beach. It was... windy, haha... not too crowded, and we chatted like for hours even reluctantly leaving the place - being chased away by sandflies. I wonder if you spray baygon around the area in a circle, wouild it become an insect-free zone? Or maybe baygon doesn't work in open areas? Next time I'd bring a big mosqito coil... haha...

40 years and still discussing

Finally.

Took Ches to see my favorite scuplture by Botero down at the river. (The Singapore River, which other... -_-) He asked me why was it my favorite, couldn't really explain it. Guess I felt an affinity with the fat, muscular pigeon. Went to the beanbag place aka my enclave. (Note to self: Really must stop drinking coffee. Gives me eyebags). I was a chatterbox for the day. Yay! Ches looks the same really, but different too. Aged? Definitely less stressed. Stress and lack of sleep does many different things to lots of people. For us, we just got thinner and sickly-looking. He's not that scrawny now, in fact I think rather... 'beefy'? Sounds so sordid. The 'right' size; sounds better... Just looks more relaxed- and healthy looking. Sort of like how travel matures you, everytime I come back from a trip I sort of look different. And he's been around the seven seas! Showed me his certs, realised that I've got one of the top students of SP on my hands here... Still the same old ches, humbly saying it is truly the grace of God that enabled him to do so well academically. Love that about him.

Well it's been 9 (!!) months since I saw him... He's ...taller, surprisingly. There's still hope for guys my age. =) Was just wondering to myself, thinking that it's rather sad that I don't treasure people only when they are gone/leaving then I start to realise what an important part they play in my life, etc, like Mr BestFriend, only that I take them for granted until our disparate lives ensure that we only meet once or twice a year, despite living less than 1 km away... And hopefully I'll be able to meet Ches more than once, or twice, this year...despite him living across the Johor Straits. Some of my friendships are meant to endure despite the distance, I hope. Perhaps the ones that I want to keep close and treasured. For no good reason except that it's just one of those -'you know', like something that you like very much and can't bear to throw out with the spring cleaning; even though it's old and needs replacement. (That would be my cupboards - old, that is; not that I'm feeling attached to them in ANY sense.)

So, finally finally finally after long months of emails I get to chat with Ches and tell him in 2 hours everything in my life the past 9 months. It was great, seeing the same old sarcastic smirk again and the straightforward replies. And of course 'gloating' to the rest that he only met ME ME ME and no one else. He made me promise not to tell anyone he was here, not to tell MW, nor Roger, nor Ben, nor Kim... that would be 4 people complaining 'why you are here and you never tell me?' Ohhh I feel so privileged. I just fear I'll go tramping down to MW's this weekend and blurt out how exhilarated I am to... oops. Shush.

Promised to visit soon, after CNY... And also promised to name my first dog after him. Hee... That would be 3 years later when he returns and we have reached a quarter-life... Maybe we will meet 40 years from now and finally complete discussing on 'The Purpose Driven Life'. If we're still alive, if we still remember each other, if we remember to discuss it. (Perhaps the book would be a 'classic' by then). Then I can tell my grandchildren : "Just 40 years ago, I was reading this book..."

10 things I love about you

Keeping with the spirit of the season -

10. Your pensive look when you are deep in thought and trying to listen to my chatterings.
9. Your half-sleepy half serious tone on the phone late at night
8. The way you always try to pay for everything...(though I won't let you)
7. Sending me to my doorstep even though that means you have to take a cab back home.
6. How you always want to spend quality time with me.
5. Your unbelieving expression when I tell you you are cute.
4. The way you are so defensive and guarded about your inner self, yet reveal it all later.
3. The way you worship God.
2. The way the sides of your eyes crinkle up when you smile.
1. When you say 'I love you' and don't expect me to reciprocate but just declare it sincerely (naively, too)

Well.
Thanks for being a part of my life.
For the past month...
For the coming months.

Antinomianism

My latest topic of research is Antinomianism. It's an interesting topic for me, both on theology- and non-theology grounds. Nic told me he actually studied it in the uni course subjs, the moralistic overview and impact on society and individual in the early centuries. What's so interesting about this topic is that basically the miuse and misunderstanding of grace as defined within the boundaries of Church and Society would lead to a gnostic spiritualism- or libertinism where evil would prevail. Interesting, and I've finished the 2nd cd of Pastor Kong Hee's teachings. I never knew that all countries' judicial systems were based on the Mosaic law actually - the 10 commandments in its basic form. Gives a good premise to share to lawyers and justice reformers about my faith yea...

Antinomianism is the seduction of lawlessness, otherwise known as 'cheap grace'. It's not so much the Calvinist teaching (as widely believed): Once saved, always saved. It's rather the debasement of this teaching into something like Once saved, the grace provided gives you free rein to basically be hedonistic or do what you like, as you always have salvation. This form of grace is in defilement of the law which is embodied by Christ and found in the Bible. 3 forms of Antinomianism include Gnostic Spiritualism, Libertinism and Specific Ethics... Its what I need to know for now, especially with secularism creeping into the church, many people's arguments are not valid as they do not know what and why they are doing things. Like, why they are not watching M18 shows, why they cannot read the Da Vinci Code. I cannot really explain it to them, but I do hope that my convictions are right. I admit that I'm more of a liberal than a conservative, many things that I do might be shocking to some conservatives, but then again it does not bring much discomfort to me. So, whatever floats your boat, aye - and I do not mean it in a condescending nor apathetic manner.

Deliriously happy.

"La peggior solitudine e essere privi di un'amicizia sincera." F.Bacon, on a quote from a Baci chocolate.

The incredible junk-food diet result: I've lost half a kg. From two weeks of eating chocolates, pre-CNY goodies, fastfood... And that is before my shopping-pasttime this week! Kinda scary and makes me wanna swear off junk food. Although I've bought black and white M&Ms today. And ate Long Johns' ... Heh. So I'm unhealthier and thinner now, ironically. Shall hit the gym to 'gain weight' again.

The week was extremely tiring as somehow I look like I enjoy shopping and have the tenacity to trawl the whole urban malls in search for that elusive perfect top/pants/apparel... Went shopping on Tues, Thurs, Fri, Sat... claustrophobia now. Despite the baby-decline; Singapore still has thousands of people in town. I'm a picky buyer - material- and color- wise, at least. I actually like buying online. Basically I can fit into any 'S' top so long as it covers my midriff... Turned fashion consultant to my dear guy friends and mum this week. Found it frustrating - realised slightly plump people have a really negative self-esteem about the way they appear to look like in the mirror. Tried to be encouraging by suggesting helpfully certain colors and cuttings they might look better in. Felt that maybe it's me too - I take hardly any effort to stay the size I am. Found that fashion is terribly mean to people who are a plus size. Both trips turned out quite well though, with perseverance. Mum found quite a number of tops that really suited her despite her complaints that she felt like a dumpling. She was so happy she bought me a skirt too. It does pay off...

After a fortnight of no news which made me slightly uneasy, Ches emailed. He's back. But sick. I had this ominous feeling about him, and actually wrote it in some compartment of my ever-frenetic gray matter. Alas I never acted on it and with each day grew increasing dread (okie I'm exaggerating on my overactive imagination)... but yes, I'm glad he's back. It seems not-so- distant compared to onboard a big ship sailing in the big black sea. Have the notion of hopping up and paying him a visit. Yea?

Ever so tired but deliriously happy, its been said that you can't 'feel' your organs, as you can't feel your intestines, your liver, blah blah... but I can feel my heart beating happily. Its just so long since I've had a hug. From someone I love. And other heart-beating stuff too. The stuff that sends magic butterflies lurching up my tummy and tickling and taunting with pleasure. Yum.

If a purple plastic bag could speak, it would say:

There's a purple plastic bag (2, in fact) in my house from Sainsbury that states: "Good Food Costs Less", which ironically is filled to the brim with some old files destined for the incinerator.

I'm trying out a junk food 'diet' for now. My theory being that those poor girls who indulge in junk food once a while will get fat, thus me will only eat junk food and ...get thinner. I don't think I have that high a metabolism to burn fats while I'm sitting down reading/surfing/thinking; so it must be the regular intake of fast food. It helps that I've been 'trained' since young. Would call my mum a junk-food-cook too. Heh (Sorry Mum, but the pasta's great!) On Monday I ate mango ice cream, fries and chicken chop for lunch, pizza and campbell's alphabet soup for dinner... Yea, I have a fondness for the nice twister fries at mcd's... is it called the 'prosperity fries'? Haha. It goes well with tartare saus. And I'm newly fixated on M&Ms - Peanut Butter's on the top for now. Sis said there was a 'Shrek' version that consisted of only shrek-colored M&Ms. Can't seem to find it, at least not at my local ntuc... Think only town areas or Cold Storage would stock it. I wonder if junk food will take off some years of my life? Hmmm. But I agree that Good Food Costs Less. Don't find restaurant food that fantastic anyways. The portions look too good to eat. And its too quiet, I get self-conscious in quiet places easily. I'm a fast-food and hawker centre type of person. Really. Really really really.

Went to JB yesterday, just felt like going out of "the city"(aka island paradise) for a while. Left at 11am was back at 5pm. Our seamless efficient public transport system. Realised that there's actually THREE buses going to JB - one SMRT/exTibs, and the 160 and 170 of SBS'... not counting the Malaysian-owned yellow smiley faced buses. Once again, we are spoilt for choice. And the fare being actually lower than what I pay if I want to go to town, I shall consider going JB more often. Stocked up on my Hollister tees, a third of the price here. Say less than S$15 for one... That's my environmentally friendly way of stretching my budget! And yes, I'm a brave one, I.went.there.myself. All by myself. No imaginary friends. Hoo. For me it's a cheap piece of cake considering I went to KL myself(by road) and I went to Sarawak myself(by air) so why not our friendly neighbor JB? Must admit though, I was rather fearful of those fearsome robbers who supposedly eyed you once you stepped out of the customs' ... I looked warily at the taxi-touters, wondering which was the pseudo one. After hearing Frank's story of his brother and 5 guy friends being robbed at Holiday Inn Plaza,(the one famous for dvd pirates) I definitely clutched my pouch tighter as I climbed the overhead bridge. Maybe it's my imagination but the beggars looked more sinister than before. I did go Holiday Inn Plaza once, alone too...but that's another story for another day. So yes, I had a great workout traversing the 4 storeys of the nearest mall, mentally stretched my faculties by doing an auto-conversion of RM to SGD on every retail stock, (I must mention that S$100 gets you RM223, its very enticing now... feel quite rich there le)... it was fun! And later on in the day, watched Elektra which was surprisingly good. I'm a Alias fan, naturally like Jennifer Garner too. Her acting's credible and the cinematograhy was good, way better than Daredevil's. =) All in all it was a fulfilling although tiring day.

Motivations of an unscrupulous kind

I'm being bugged.

By... myself? The past Rachel gets shooed away and locked up like a caterpillar in a finely spun spider's web. The future Rachel says to the present one: Now, now. We must all behave ourselves. Don't get drunk or even half-drunk. Act decent. Stop being so wilful. The present one happily cheers itself up in the company of decent, good, friends while ignoring the past's cries for rescue. A few years later the past finally unwinds itself from the tangled mess of web it has spun itself into. It comes, face to face with the present while the future dissipates with a poof! into thin air. And that's where it gets complicated.

A note to guys: (Perhaps I should be lecturing on Relationships 101: Communicating with the female gender) Firstly never ask a lady 'Are you alright?' when you know she's not unless you're expecting a wack on the head by her killer slipper. This also applies when she's sick or feeling/looking miserable. It is highly imprudent to comment on the obvious. Basically she's not in a jovial state of mind already. Also applies when she's crying, or about to. Never say the dreaded words 'Don't cry', it will only make her feel like crying more. And hating you for spoiling her mascara and feeling weepy and generally unhappy. Yep. At times like this just offer the nice manly shoulder and listen to her blabber till she's exhausted.

Then congratulate yourself on how s.n.a.g you are.

In many ways this season, I question my motives in doing things. Personal motto is always to be sincere in every dealing. But yea, there is still the question of the past repressed eventually catching up with the 'no regrets' present and the hopeful future. Was so troubled that all through yesterday an inner voice told me to 'Talk to Mr Foo" - this highly enlightened being who looks ageless - really; besides being charming, kind-hearted and chivalrous AND suave, I would like to believe that sometimes, he takes that little bit of effort to look out for me. and welcome me into his humble abode, his gang of merry, friendly men not found in other habitats. Unashamedly I told him about my inferior motives and lack of integrity in certain methods I was applying to my life. He provided me food for thought (and was a definite instument in uplifting my spirits) for he said that although my motivations were not unscrupulous, they certainly meant well. Which is true, in a way - I never meant harm or hurt to anyone that might be impacted by me. In living life too close to the edge I'm beginning to realise that I'm always saved in the nick of time when I call. Each day is a decision by itself, formed by a bubble of thoughts, hopes and dreams - one which, when not treasured, quickly fades away into obscurity.

Show me the way how; and I will bravely follow.

It takes on another meaning

Sometimes certain things in life take on a deeper, more significant meaning when certain experiences are attached to it. Happens to me all the time. It's called 'an anthropological fetish'. I always get attached to places, food, books, people... Well Mum sent me an email today about this 2 sisters, KL inhabitants who were saved in the midst of the tsunami at Phuket. I cannot help but feel touched at the way God ministered to them, through the song 'Still'. I've always been a fan of hillsong music, and this song is one of my personal favorites but significantly for me now as for them, this song takes on deeper meaning.

"When the oceans rise and thunder roars
I will soar with you above the storm
Father you are King over the flood
I will be still know you are God"

Let God be God.

The existing state of affairs = ?

Warm feelings in the midst of the brainfreeze...

Well I can safely say I'm out of my (early) quarter-life crisis right now and I'm glad I don't have to face it again when I'm 25. For the past months now I have not been 'myself', guess I was frustrated, depressed and searching for something fulfilling to do with myself. I feel now its like as though I've been through a car-wash, first I'm scrubbed, then swooshed with water, then rinsed, sprayed, and finally coated with some snowy white cleansing thing and scraped, and pushed out. If I could give this time of my life a title, it would be 'Snowy-white car-wash at the quarter-life crisis'. Oh I did enjoy part of it, the not-using-my-brain part, the lazy sunny days at the poolside, the gym... But metaphysically it was at an all-time low. Felt that my life did not amount to much. Thank God its all settled now, in my heart and otherwise. Career-wise opportunities are picking up for me, also in ministry and other stuff.

I think in everything there is never something really bad - Oh yes its supposed to be a Romanticism thought - In the most melancholic moments the state of happiness will come, though transient. As I analyse myself, I start to change, too. Is the girl in the mirror really me? Why do I see different facets of myself that are quite unseen before? To change the status quo for me right now means a promise of unhappiness for both, possible stress and lots of publicity which is really an unecessary strain. Besides I don't want to make empty promises I can't keep, although this week I've realised many things. Things about myself. About the world we live in. About others. About being self-conscious. About how we care for others who care about us. And how we want to let ourselves be seen so as to avoid shortchanging them and to avoid stirring up controversy. Deep deep thoughts... =) So I don't have to reason so much, as neither he nor me are in any hurry to explain the status quo to anyone. Aye! Please let me hold on to this small bit of happiness in my otherwise dreary monotonous and slightly dark life. Everytime Mr H (hedgehog) smiles that killer smile of his, many lightbulbs just starts to glow inside. That's when I get that warm feeling. Mmmm. Nice.

Preface to RESTART:: About the artist/creator

"All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless. "

-Oscar Wilde, "The Picture of Dorian Gray".

http://www.hoboes.com/html/FireBlade/Wilde/dorian/

Am quite inspired by what Wilde wrote in this preface, so I made it mine. It sums up nicely what I think but what I never dared express in words. The things I create, poems, songs, stories, abstract drawings: all reveal a part of my soul. Yet, it conceals what I wish to conceal, and expresses only the basic elements of what is felt at the surface; painting a picture that is startlingly innocent to a reader's eyes yet imbued with nuances of stirrings from within the psyche.

I guess I must say more about my short story :RESTART, here, before I actually forget the true meaning of what is being unsaid. Yes, I tend to be forgetful. That's why I can lead a (relatively) happy life. It's not so much as a parody abot technology as I'd like to believe, at its core, it is basically a love story - albeit a bittersweet one. Yea I always make the faux pas of having the dramatic element of someone dying in all my stories, guess I'm still pretty inexperienced to weave a tale with less melodrama so it'll have to do for now. RESTART... I wrote it from an obviously male point of view, the female - Kazumi having INFJ qualities and the guy INTP... hopefully it seems that way... I wanted to convey the dreamlike, misty feeling one gets while thinking of something before sleeping, and actually imagining it while in a state of semi-conscous, so that the line between illusion and reality is merged and it actually happened - in fantasy. Also, for me I'm concerned about the detached relationships of human beings. Why they don't spend quality time with each other anymore and why when I do, tongues start wagging. Why people don't tell people real things that they feel for each other. Like a simple - I care for you; it doesn't have to be cringed at when it is a sincere expression of the intimacy you share. Like all my short stories (not many!), this one is semi-autobiographical, and it holds a special significance for me, why I chose a pseudo-japanese-english context; and I did fold cranes too, but I did not make it past the 500+ mark. It's sort of a new realm for me with sci-fi and tech into it, I do like this story actually. It symbolizes hope, and the stuff that dreams are made of, I don't want to wake up and find it shattered. =)

RESTART

::A short story, copyright mine::

With tentative fingers, I traced the outline of the keypad in front of me and, closing my eyes, pressed down on them. Twice. I nodded my head in assent to no one in particular. My feet nervously tapped the dusty floor, to a silent beat, drumming on like a never ending military march. Tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap. Tap tap tap… …There she was, with sparkling, dancing eyes, her girlish, glossy lips always curved into a serene smile. I wanted to kiss her so bad. I thought I saw a look of – frustration; and perhaps anxiety on her demure face; almost like a flicker of a candle’s flame, it was there one moment, and gone the next. Wondered to myself whether I should bring it up – glanced inquiringly at her, but she was almost like her usual self.

Part of me wanted to encircle her in my arms, grasp her and show her the horizon streamed in pinks and purples, the sunset orb tinged with orange in the distance, the silhouette of the dark woods beyond. To show her a world where love means freedom from pain, where people in love walk on fluffy, silver-lined clouds laid out on long paths before them; they pain rainbow-hued intensities with their breaths, and where being in love means to dance happily to the strange and wonderful sounds of ice-cream bells tinkling in the distances, merged with the sounds of children’s laughter and trees’ leaves, rustling in the evening breeze. It pains me to see that she has not known any of this.

In the months that I have known Kazumi, she has always stayed constant – her beauty pure, mirroring the radiance and childlike wistfulness within. When her dark eyes dance, it lights up the whole place like how fireworks burst with a breath-taking brilliance – except that hers was more contained, bursting in a way where I could be the sole appreciator. She impressed me constantly with her delicate movements and conscientious efforts of perfecting every undertaking; even small and rigorous tasks she seemed to accomplish with ease, and grace. I did not think I could love someone like her, then. I still love her, now. I played it like a game, the game of love, like everyone else, like all the senseless beings that were furiously giving and taking; almost like the stock exchange – callously trading for better, higher, richer. She was the prize, every inch of her fragile, flawless self. But to me, somewhere between the halfway mark, the game became real.

Kazumi. In the semi-conscious state drifting somewhere between sleep and awakening, her name seemed imprinted on my lips. I mouthed it then, always, as I curled up beside the screen. Tap tap tap. I could see her slender fingers gingerly brush over my unruly hair, and as I slept, her breath was warm on mine.

We spend long afternoons together, not saying anything, for it was silence that brought us comfort instead of words. We went to Hyde Park where she watched the squirrels with their long red tails animatedly gliding from bough to bough. She loved them. She loved animals. Even Seki’s dog, boorish; with a dull, uneven coat; and listless eyes. She would whisper into its ear and look at it in a sort of quiet understanding. Kazumi never asked me for anything, but I wanted her to be happy, so much happier when she was with me, than with anyone else. I bought her cute Tiffany charm bracelets and Royce truffle chocolates. Only the best for my princess. She always smiled sweetly with gratitude, bowing in politeness when she accepted them.

Thank you, Craig. Domo.

She wore my velours to tennis with me, and my bonds PJs at night. She’s mine, I thought. Everyday I told her I loved her. Always had this irrepressible notion of her leaving me. Like Mother, who told me she was going to the moon with another of her new lovers, this time a scientist-millionaire. She always had a frivolous nature. They took off in Novogordsky with several other scions and heiresses. The auto-piloted rocket never even made it past the atmospheric surface. Could she not have waited till it was safer? Foolish woman.

One day, Kazumi presented me with a silver tin, feather-light. I shook it and it rustled back. With a grin on her face, she pestered me to open it. I did.
It contained one thousand paper cranes, folded by the dear lady herself. Paper cranes, some smaller than my fingertips; others bigger and colored with swirled motifs; but none bigger than the palm of my hand. A thousand cranes – Means longevity ; she said shyly, when I asked her about the significance. I gently squeezed her hand, touched by the effort, knowing that this is truly her way of showing her affections for me. This means we will be together, forever? I asked. She looked down for a fraction of a second, hesitant to reply. I suspected that if she had chosen to reply in the affirmative, she would have nothing more to give or expect. She responded - It means that… you will live, forever, in my heart.

I could have spent every waking moment in her presence and not regret the time or energy spent together. For each day was lived in happiness, endless walks down buttercups-lined trails, hand-in-hand, we would stoop to pluck off fresh blackberries and eat them, competing to see who could spit the pits further. Other days, we would go to the beach at night, huddling close with a flask of cocoa, excitedly pointing out the stars to each other. But, abruptly as she had came, she left. Without a word, without a clue. I tried to search for her, through the galaxies I frantically looked and leapt up at any mention of her name. To no avail- she was gone. All I had was something that seemed like the ending of a dream – overwhelming negative feelings about the whole episode replacing the joy I once lived for. I had lived, breathed, and shared my life with her. But she was an automation. Something inanimate that had to expire, one day. Perhaps she knew she had to be replaced soon, by a newer version, and instead of lingering, being something of an irritant worse than spam, she ejected herself from the system, initializing an effective destruct and destroy of her core self; the rest, flung into space, shattered into minute pieces.

The moderators told me this was an anomaly that had never happened before. Apparently Kazumi Ver3.0 was infused, or infected with a virus that was not apparent before – it was a malfunction, an oversight in her creation. That Kazumi was prone to be affected by her feelings, which over time becomes love. There was no choice. It was either this or a solitary existence of being condemned by all creatures alike. She did not belong to this world. Nor to any other. Something so perfect, so flawless, so beautiful and dream-like would never have a chance to exist here.

The screen blinked at me, jolting me from my reverie; prompting: END? Or: RESTART?

After an eternity… or what seemed like it, I chose the latter. With tentative fingers, I pressed down. Twice.

"Wrote this as a parody of how technology seemingly becomes one with our emotions, breaking boundaries on fantasy vs reality. "

Simply amazing... part two

Well.

The pieces of the puzzle are finally interconnnected.

It's strange how it turned out actually. I was telling him a story about the (old) singapore two-dollar note (yes, it has a story to it) and ended up giving it to him. He opened up his wallet to place it in a blue thingy from years ago - something which I had not seen for a long long time. Wow, I thought. This guy has kept it for so long.

The 'it' in question is actually a card-sized blue folder that comes as a compliment with one of the adult-transitlink card that was produced way back in '98. That card has mosaic-like square prints on which, using the folder-thing, codes of the mosiac acutally forms many pictures; but without the folder the card is useless, and vice versa.

He, has kept the folder, without the card.

I, kept the card without the folder.

So here lies the puzzle. Went home, found it between my trunk of old love-letters and correspondences I hoard. Took it out - it was in really good condition. I wondered to myself, why did I keep this piece of 'junk'... for so long? It did not and does not now hold any sentimental value for me, therefore to hold on to it (without the folder it is useless, more so with the ez-link card being in usage...)

Maybe one day I would find the person that keeps the folder.

Found him although I was not searching for him.

Maybe he, too, kept the folder in his wallet for these long years in the hope that one day, it would be reunited with the card. And the 'wait' paid off. Sounds too good to be true, yea... It's amazing how normal everyday stuff - 'junk', so called; becomes meaningful when there is a hidden significance attached to it.

I don't go around hunting for these 'significances', but maybe, just maybe, they come, looking for me.

Because I'm open to them? Because I believe in them?

Perhaps everything around us have meanings and connections in symbols or languages we cannot understand as yet.

As for the card, for so many years being enclosed in the trunk, if it has feelings I hope it's happy with its new owner, who will always keep it, jointly with the folder, in his wallet - close to him constantly.

Wish I could be an inanimate object sometimes. =)

Simply amazing isn't it?

Me, rookie blogger. Realised today that if I type (in yahoo.com's search engine) 'a purposeful life', my weblog is the third site to appear on the list (out of over 576000...) ; and if I type 'singapore rachel lee' (yes that happens to be my name)... it's 3rd-placed. Curiously thinking if in meat-space (as opposed to cyber-space) , if people were to do a quick search for me, what would they type in the search bar ... Would 'a purposeful life' really be an apt description? Or would something else describe me better, better than a name I was born with and the country that I live in?

Thanks to Nedstat Basic 3.0 I can now track everyone that comes to read. Well, not specifically, but at least the countries they are from, and how they came. I'd like to believe in this cyber-space where new horizons are being bridged and landscapes changing at whimsy, (who knows - my site might just disappear tomorrow if I take a fancy to hitting the 'delete blog?' button...) some alignment brought these anonymous people here. And with the trepidation of all writers who value their writings, I hope that those who came found it a nice place to linger in, for a brief moment in space, that somehow I'd connected with them, in some way.

Am quite excited as today there's cause for wonder, and to murmur the words 'Simply amazing isn't it?' when I look and see the things that are set in motion, pieces of an interconnecting puzzle that fall into place, reason unknown. I'm brimming with excitement and happiness mixed with anticipation like a child who has just discovered bubbles, or on the first day of year-end holidays Sometimes small insignificant 'junk' speaks to you in volumes about their identity - and yours, too.

And a small something is going to find its owner who will keep it treasured and close, always.

Oh I can't wait...

Passing Glances //:: In transit

::A poem. Copyright mine.::

Say
Words hung unspoken on lips
Both times lingering
Both in transit.
Archetypal semblances
Of a misguided intiative
Searchingly looking --
For its been said
Eyes are like windows
But I’ve tried
I’m tired of seeing nothing
Except my own;
Reflection in a distressed mind
Round, black
Dread
The day after tomorrow
It brings a reality
Of a fragmented notion repressed.
Sooner than that
The day comes
When
We pass each other;
Both pretending
Eyes that do not see,
Ears that do not hear
For now let it be
Something that never existed
Delete the snapshots
Hide the words
The soundless brushing under the carpet
Of what might have been.
The temporary alignment
Of two, in transit
Passing glances that mean anything but.
And so, I walk on
Because I have nothing to say.
Because the fragility of my emotions
Crashes louder than a piercing scream
On the parquet floor
Beneath
The window of my soul.

Soundless rants with

Was just thinking, how come 'heartless' means something like cruel, unrending... when it actually should mean "heart-less". As in, don't have the heart to do this, or that. Well the Queen's preferred tongue does have its fallacies. Read today in Symbology 101 that 'occult' means 'natural'... wonder what would my pastor say if I replace the word 'natural' with occult then... 'It's in my occult self to do this kind of things, wad... " Hoo. Think the cold weather has dulled my senses, I seem to lose the capacity of thinking millions of thoughts today, my mind is on a one-track snail's-progress mode which keeps repeating, like a broken cassette recorder (ah, the good old days) : "finetune the songtune." That dark song with a light-tempo which I penned yesterday. After a whole day of finetuning it the lyrics to the tune seems hugely unfitting and in my harmonious mind; goes through several remixes with residual tunes floating around in my head that the melody seems remarkably like a mix of pseudo-rock-chinesepop-radio remix rivalling the best on the music scene.

Well, at least I'm satisfied with how the chorus turns out anyways. All thanks to a flash of inspiration while I was in the 'recording lounge' aka shower, last afternoon. So, I guess it is possible to harness the subconscious mind and only leave room for a small pocket of sentimental thoughts, to remain in control of my emotions. Small, small pockets. I've always believed in positive thinking, and also I know that my mood hugely affects others around me, quickly, they become apathetic too. Focusing on the greater good for humankind I will thus forsake being sincere and closely veil the vacant eyes. Only opening them to a worthy, select few. Napoleon Hill said: "The reason man may become the master of his own destiny is because he has the power to influence his own subconscious mind." If this statement is true, why does it makes me squirm? I think on one aspect we are more affected than we realise, by the things happening around us. We just internalise it and discard those we cannot make sense of.

It begs the question of, am I reacting to this thing because it happened in this way? Or vice versa, does this thing happen in this way, because of my reaction?

I'm no philosopher but I am intrigued by human relationships and how it is constructed in the physical reality. But I think Hill's reasoning is not sound - it is the deception of the enemy... In other words, the god of this age. (Which begs the question who is the god of this age...? I do not claim any association with that devious fellow.) Do we sometimes let things happen thinking that it just happens, by chance? Or is there something more to it, are we following an unseen hand guiding us in daily decisions? A fellow-observer neighbor remarked to me recently that my way of thinking is dangerous, 'cuz my mind is very...persistent, that I can befuddle myself through rationalising away things and therefore believe in my own psychotic theory. Well actually he did not put it in this way but that was the underlying meaning, although unintentionally spoken, I did ponder on it.

I do deflect hurtful things that people direct to me, perhaps due to my liberal upbringing, I allow and accept their right of freedom of speech, and also the analytical part of me would think that there is a cause to their reaction, and the effect is not intended wholly on me. Perhaps it is also subconscious on their part - a spiteful comment that is later brushed off as a joke, taken lightly. But I'd like to ask them though, why do you say that? Or rather, what caused/inspired/effected you to select this phrase to represent your subconscious mind?

This desolate, dark road

Wrote a song today. Copyright mine.
(To be played in E Key.)

I elict sympathy
From the shadows of the dreamless spaces -
Rapidly haunting, breathe;
I gasp: again I hear
The voice of my own
Echoing
Cries like the rain that never dies.

Would you wonder
If, years later would you continue on,
In your eternal sunshine?
It keeps merging me
Carelessly above the line of illusion
Emptiness
Fades for once darkens to light.


Now I, walk alone
On this desolate, dark road;
I will not turn away
Nor look into my soul
Behold your pretty face
With dazzling eyes -
Stirs me up inside
Hope is
But a waking dream;
Wake I?

An unopened envelope

The eye of Sauron sees more than it ought to.

Hope is a waking dream.

My thoughts are sporadic and vague today. If only they do not speak in parables but illuminate the meaning in actuality, then would I have the strength to move forward. But like the ones before me, my heart bleeds, though I do not wear it on my sleeve but keep it hidden and un-enroached upon. If a flower could cry, it would have drowned itself in a salt lake.

He will forget me, in time. There are signs that it is already starting to happen. And to continue on, would be anguish for both. Especially for me, where memories of sweetness and joy clings my very nature of pleasure and excitement.

Cease to remember my number. Or remember my name.

I have a character weaker than I thought. A steel resolve, broken only by a pensive glance. Deemed it unwise to carry out according to plan. Therein lies the unopened envelope in my pretty beige pocket-bag, adorned with european floral motifs. The envelope, plain white and sealed, its fate unknown. Will it thus wither there, or redeem itself at another opportunity to present itself? Or like junk mail, thrown carelessly into the trash... gone, together, forever (for there is but one copy)...lost. It was meant to be read although it did not bring happy news.

It was meant to end before it was started.

It was meant to end this way.

Subdued perusal of naivete

Kai said I looked 'lost' today, well I guessed it was because I was pondering over some issues, that was why altho' I really did enjoy myself at the birthday celebration, sometimes my mind wanders. But I should start at the beginning. Which was yesterday, at YAS. With a tremulous heart, I responded. And cried, shuddering gasps that seemed to come from someone else. Was told, to forget the past failures. The failed relationships. The victories in life. And move into the future with a new anointing. So, me who haven't cried in a while (3 months now) finally opened the floodgates and boy, it felt good. After that I just wanted to whimper in a small corner with my head, heavy with its burdens, supported by the corner of the walls. Didn't want to see anybody, or talk cheerily, but just to take some time out to reflect and respond. I'm relieved that finally, I'm trying to move on. Andy said, don't try to forget him. If you try, you won't. Just know that it's possible by the grace of God. Its strange, but after that when I reached home, the tears wouldn't stop. They dripped out slowly, unceasingly, and last night's sleep was awful, woke up so many times that I lost count.

Currently reading this novel, 'Jane Eyre', by Charlotte Bronte. On page 160, it says:
'...and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it, and, if discovered and responded to, must lead ignis-fatuus-like, into miry wilds where there is no extrication.' I guess she said my inmost thoughts that I used to have and now, (still festering); better than what I could have journalled myself.

So today I was drained. And cold. A bit wet. The weather's still unpredictable, it rained the whole day but thankfully ceased in the evening. Was a bit subdued, but guess the rest couldn't tell, 'cuz I was a new face to them anyways. I still can't believe that I've only known Izac as a friend for 8 days, and yet, we have a deeper connection fueled by the bittersweet and similarly coherent memories we share, in the past. Not that it was congruent, just that we could both share our 'life-stories', and parts of it reflected each others', thus we could connect in this emotional way where others could not(establish this connection with me), not even in years.

Yea, and Izac's been the sweetest, nicest, most charming ...guy. The way he is defensive in his speech, but later betray himself by saying the most sensitive things. I'm extremely touched(and it takes a lot to touch me, honestly) by the very sweet gesture of saving the slice of cake with the nice pink creamed rose on it for me (awwww...) but being the shocking person I was, half of it ended up on his face. And he let me do it, too. Later he said he was too stunned to react, and when he saw it in the gents' mirror he laughed and laughed 'cuz he looked like a clown. We had a good laugh over it afterwards and I don't regret doing it... but yes, main thing, I was touched. Score!

And he sent me home after, at the insistences of his nice, well-meaning college classmates. Well, it did help that I live 3 bus-stops away. Had a nice walk, him all wet - dunked in the pool 7 times, draped in a towel and two shirts... and me. Thanks for the company to the doorstep. It's a privileged sight yea =P...not many guys have this opportunity! Score! Have a feeling I'll see much of him this year. It would give me delight and pleasure to do so, yea. =)

Synchronized Prayer at 11 PM for the Tsunami Victims

Was forwarded an sms about a synchronized prayer at 11pm today for the Tsunami victims. So I prayed.

Dear God. Grant those survivors warmth from the cold, strength to live for one more day, hope that they will see tomorrow. For the injured, that they will gain strength to recover and face the future. For the homeless and devastated, I pray that they can receive proper funding and start rebuilding their lives and dreams. Bless those in the rescue efforts, the doctors, aid workers, volunteers, soldiers and reporters. Those with loss of families and loved ones, that they will not blame You but instead trust in You for their future. I pray for a quick relief to come to those stranded, those who cry out for help, that help will come to them quickly. For those who have no one left, that they will know there is a God who cares for them. And for miracles to happen, somehow.

Amen.

Am so freezing cold here now, heard from Mum that usually after earthquakes the winds are strong drafts. Shuddering despite a warm house and long sleeves, I fail to imagine what it is like for those in their bathing suits, clinging on to a piece of driftwood for survival. Had dinner with Andy and, like him, although we are not physically affected by the disaster, it strikes a chord in me, something like empathy, something I feel very strongly about. Which I've not felt before, not for a group of people I can't possibly identify myself with. Called the YMCA today, was told they had enough volunteers. Well I was ready to offer my services, even doing a small thing like packing relief goods or manning the phone. I guess to me, it would be very fufilling. Was reading the international news and Thailand needs forensic people to fly over to identify every single one of the dead; through DNA sampling. It is crazy, even Andy said it was nearly impossible to accomplish. But their ideal is noble, in the least. Saw NBC news photos of the dead victims' faces photographed and pasted on the hospital wall last night. One of which stayed imprinted in my mind clearly: A woman in a red bathing suit, her face was so puffed up and bruised it was hard to tell her age or her nationality. On her face and her chest, there were several welts and deep gashes, it looked as though there were many debris smashed and dragged across her, leaving harsh, wide open tears. Had she lived, she would have been severely disfigured.

I am blessed, that I have a roof over my head, I have health, I have a family and friends around. That I'll live to see 2005. This tragedy did not just happen to them. It happened to us. It happened as a painful reminder to all of us that life is fragile.

It's not how the way you died that matters, but how the way your life was lived.

Help needed for Tsunami Disaster Relief

"Among the green tents and tarp shelters hurriedly thrown up on the outskirts of this city, the only medical attention offered Wednesday to thousands of refugees from the massive tsunami three days earlier came from a dozen student volunteers handing out painkillers and vitamin C."

Help is really needed, please visit:

http://tsunamihelpneeded.blogspot.com/ - international aid

http://www.anandshiva.com/relief/ - Singapore only

Fund raising for the Tsunami victims

I'm very saddened by the tremendous loss of lives in this region due to the Tsunami. At this point of time, I somehow wish that I'm a guy. To be specific, a NSF guy flying in the chinooks to Indonesia. Want so much to help, to carry the dead and clear the wreckage. To provide the homeless a shelter and blankets. To take photographs to identify the missing.

But the best help I can, now is to provide information. So here's how to make a donation in Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia.

SINGAPORE

Singapore Red Cross Society
Source: http://straitstimes.asia1.com.sg/sub/topstories/story/0,5562,292736,00.html?
SEND your cheques to Singapore Red Cross Society, 15 Penang Lane, Singapore 238486.
Please indicate 'Tidal Waves Asia' behind the cheque and include your name, address and telephone number too. The Singapore Red Cross Society will send you a receipt.

Donors can also go to the Singapore Red Cross Society to make a donation personally. They are at Red Cross House, 15 Penang Lane, from 9.30 am to 5.45 pm on weekdays and from 9.30 am to noon on Saturdays.

Graduate Christian Fellowship
If you are making a donation using your personal cheque, kind write a cheque to FESIM (which stands for Fellowship of Evangelical Students Indonesia Ministry - an affiliate to GCF). Please indicate your name, contact no, address (so that they can issue you an acknowledgement) and "Tsunami Donation".Mail it to FESIM, 496 Upper Bukit Timah Road #04-22 John Wesley Centre Singapore 678099 If you are making your donation via ATM or Internet-banking, kind transfer your fund to :- FESIM, 033-900597-5 DBS Autosave corporate AccountRemember to send an email to fesim@fessingapore.org and indicate your name, contact no, account, amount transferred and date of transfer (for easy fund identification), and indicate that the donation is designated as "Tsunami Donation" so that they can acknowledge your donations, otherwise the donation will go to FES-IM General Fund.This account will only be opened for 1 week and the last day for your donation will be on 4 Jan 2005.

Requested by Sri Lanka:
Tents, pre-cooked or ready-to-eat meal packs, water purification tablets, wheat flour, rice, other staples, medicine (Paracetamol, Antibiotics), wound dressings, suture material, vitamins, rehydration, salts, vaccinations for cholera, malaria tablets, saline intravenous infusions, portable generators, clothes and blankets.

Drop-off venues:
Sri Lanka: Amanda Travel's branches during office hours.Tel: 6435-8422/18.Virar's Rehab Centre at553A Balestier RoadNo 2, Changi South Avenue 2 Singapore 486354.
Small parcels can be sent toSri Lankan Airlines, 133 Cecil Street Keck Seng Tower, #13-02 Singapore 069535

Donations can be sent to the Sri Lanka High Commission, Goldhill Plaza, #13-07/1251 Newton Road Singapore 308900
For Sri Lanka and Indonesia:
Restaurant 1827, The Arts House, OldParliament Building, 1 Old Parliament Lane.

Requested by Indonesia:
Relief supplies of any sort.The Embassy of Indonesia 7 Chatsworth Road Singapore 249761 Tel: 6737-7422 Contact the Secretariat,Network Indonesia on 6433-4932.

Requested by India:
Kind donations. Only bank drafts and cheque donations.Contact Mr Avinash Singh GillFirst Secretary, High Commission of India31 Grange RoadSingapore 239702.Tel: 6238-2514/24e-mail: hcihoc@pacific.net.sgAttention bank drafts to: Prime Minister National Relief Fund. Attention cheques to: The High Commission of India, Singapore.

General collection: Singapore Polytechnic
At counters along the walkway between Dover MRT Station and the polytechnic from 6pm to 9pm.
Donation of essential food: From Jan 1 to 31 next year, the public can buy NTUC FairPrice Food Relief Packages, comprising milk, rice, tuna and cream crackers, for $10. The purchased packages will be directed to Mercy Relief for airfreight to stricken areas. Donation boxes are available in NTUC FairPrice outlets and Shell Petrol stations Island wide.


MALAYSIA

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/Current_News/NST/Events/fund
Contributions can be sent to the New Straits Times or Berita Harian at Balai Berita, 31, Jalan Riong, 59100 Kuala Lumpur and cheques should be made out to New Straits Times Press Berhad. On the reverse side of the cheque, please write "NST-BH Malaysian Tsunami Disaster Fund."

Source: http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2004/12/28/nation/9756663&sec=nation
WE ARE launching The Star Earthquake/Tsunami Relief Fund in association with the Malaysian Red Crescent Society (MRCS) and Mercy Malaysia.

The public can send their cheques to our headquarters at Menara Star, 15 Jalan 16/11, Section 16, 46350 Petaling Jaya, Malaysia, or to our Penang office at The Star Northern Hub in Penang at 202 Jalan Sultan Azlan Shah, 11900 Bayan Lepas, Penang.

If you want to donate to MRCS, please write your cheque to Malaysian Red Crescent Society and mark “Tidal Waves Victims” at the back of the cheque.

If you want to donate to Mercy Malaysia, please make your cheque to Mercy Humanitarian Fund with “South-East Asia Earthquake Appeal” written on the back of the cheque.

The Star will hand over the cheques to the respective organisations at the end of the appeal campaign.


INDONESIA

Source: http://www.palangmerah.org/default.asp?stat=eng
Palang Merah (Red Cross) - Help Aceh People
a/c 450.666.0009 Bank BCA Menara Bidakara
account name Kantor Pusat Palang Merah Indonesia

Source: http://www.kompas.com/kompas-cetak/0412/28/utama/1463375.htm
Kompas dan TV7 membuka kesempatan bagi yang ingin turut meringankan beban masyarakat yang tengah menderita di Aceh dan Sumut, dengan mengirimkan bantuannya melalui rekening atas nama PT Kompas Media Nusantara/DKK-Bencana Aceh di dua bank. Masing-masing di Bank BNI Jakarta Kota nomor rekening 001.007.55555.1001, dan Bank BCA Gajah Mada nomor rekening 012.3016600.

Jika berupa uang tunai, sumbangan dapat disampaikan langsung ke Redaksi Kompas, Gedung Kompas Unit II Lantai IV, Jalan Palmerah Selatan 26-28, Jakarta Pusat. Selain itu, dapat pula disampaikan ke Kasir Kompas-Gramedia, Gedung Perintis Lantai II, Jalan Kebahagiaan Nomor 4, Jakarta Barat. Semuanya diserahkan pada jam kerja.

Sumbangan untuk DKK-Bencana Aceh dibuka selama 14 hari, mulai 28 Desember 2004 hingga 14 Januari
2005.


The most extensive rescue and relief operations has begun. Peace.

Why-dis-why-dat-mode

Mr Bestfriend sms-ed me from airport just before takeoff at 6am. So touched. Prayed for a safe journey.

So.
Why is it that you can miss someone that is sitting beside you?

I somehow thought that we share this connection that I felt we used to have, the sort that only really close friends who knows everything about each other have; but now perhaps it's gone. Or maybe, it never existed; it was just a figment of my imagination, a tinge of some unsettled issues preempted and overanalysed, defining a new reality with boundaries to tread carefully on. How I wish though, that it didn't have to end so abruptly, the very nature of it being so unpredictable, yet having a strange familiar feeling of nuances of idyllic requiescence hearkening to those days.

Did you ever feel this way, at all?

Then again don't tell me 'cuz I don't really want to know.

*Sighs* Did something that I normally would not do, yeah but I think I'm having the replacement mode syndrome. Sort of surprised it sets in so early. And also, I didn't want to disturb gif, he has to work nights and go to skool during the day. I can understand his predicament, the only way I can be thoughtful to his needs is to spare him his personal time. So for now, unofficially no-meet-ups till maybe he grads or completes the fyp. So yes, did the unthinkable, called this guy, just had the insane idea that I could just chat and be happy, at least for a little while. Got his number from a friend of a friend. We share a similar bus route, and actually thought he was really antagonizing at first, made me so irritated by everything he said, and then promised he didn't mean it. Somehow underneath that facade I think I could see he was a calm, sweet person just that the defensive mode was his natural way of communicating. Perhaps he has known much sorrow or pain in his life, thus the guarded way of responding to people who actually care. I was pleasantly surprised how easily we could clique despite our initial exasperations. New possibilities forged instantly thanks to my misguided initiative.

One thing about younger guys is that they don't think too much about how they're representing themselves to the fairer sex; they just open their hearts unabashedly and share openly, sincerely. Maybe they have a certain respect for me, as an individual who tries her best to understand, and also is going through things like that. Not like those other 'matured' ones, who just want to portray themselves in a good light and never wear their hearts on their sleeves, I can never understand them. Although they do nice things for me, are friendly and are good company when they are around, somehow it gets 'lost in translation' and I'm not an avid reader of body language, it's never accurate. Why can't they take a chance on people, the only thing they would be losing is their egoistical perspective of themselves. I know I'm being harsh but some people have to grow up. And take a chance on life. Take a chance on love.

Remember me this way

Didn't say 'goodbye' to Mr Bestfriend.

Never like to say this kind of overawing sentimental nostalgic cliche statements. Although it's only one word long. But, yea. Was just thinking yesterday that 'departures' are sort of like funerals, in a sense. You no longer have that magical physical and personal connection, although of course there are wonderful webcams and emails, etc, to take away the 'I-am-missing-you' part, but I think its worse (at least for me) it's just a placebo to diminish the actual effect of 'separation anxiety'. (NB:As defined by Rachel, 'separation anxiety' happens when best friends split up or one goes away. A panicky feel of desperation and desolation.) Somehow the brain sends waves of reassurance: You can still contact by email, what... Only 7 months and anyways you have other friends... Normally you also don't see him so often... cruel cruel thoughts that dulls the active, emotional state of mind, that not until later, I will feel sudden pangs of 'separation anxiety'; sort of like a homesickness feeling that only settles in later, and it gets easier, with each departure. Silly me, I don't like to feel sad, so actually, I'd withdraw from people who are leaving me/sg soon. Initially I didn't want to make friends and share stuff and be close to Markos 'cuz I knew he'd leave, too... And after Chester I didn't know if it was worth the effort, to make a new friend just for 3 months and gone for 3 years. Boo. And I reasoned that since I knew he was going already, what's the point of being s-a-d he's leaving? I stepped into the friendship knowing this fact, so, ideally I should be 'prepared' for it. Right. (Wrong.) But congratulations to me, I really didn't cry(at the airport...altho' I told mw I felt lyk it!)

Ches said we are all human beings with complex emotions; and its amazing how we feel, at times, 'cuz that's a way of letting ourselves know our thoughts, too. Which is why, if I ever leave, I'd just slip away quietly. No messiness, no tearful sending offs, no photos at changi with people I won't see in a long time. How long a long time is is defined by how often you think of the person, I guess. All of us want to be remembered, in a way. When we die, how we are remembered is most evident by the people who come. Not by sadness, but by the way we simply are, holistically.

Just remember me, in a good way, in the distinct understanding of how friends know each other through little idiosyncracies and demeanors. It's three hours before takeoff.

And...Bon voyage!(This statement I will say.)

The Star on the Christmas Tree

::A Christmas Story. Copyright mine.::




He always believed in guardian angels. He stared out of the window, watching fields brushed white with snow and squat houses covered with mist; everything in the horizon covered with a startling purity that seemed to forget the harsh, blistering cold and the dearth of life outside. He wondered if she would remember him. It was only two months that he had to be outstationed, but between that two months and his longing for her, the time seemed to crawl by for an eternity. How he longed, to hear her voice again, chiding him not to forget important stuff; her laughter, like a tinkling stream, so captivating that he could not help but stifle an urge to embrace her tightly. I wonder if she’s changed, he thought to himself. He couldn’t bear to leave her again. The day he left, he buried his head in her hair and held back the urge to cry like a child. She was the reason why he held on for so long. And now it was time to come home. I’ll be back for Christmas, he promised. His love for her emerged out of the pain of a long-ago love, once lost, and never returned.

She was his first love, both young and naïve, in their first year of university together. He thought he had known happiness; but it was only in her presence that he felt totally at peace, and the joy of just being with her, just an innocent brush of their shoulders would send him into ecstasy. I love you forever, she always said to him. Then one day, she left. It was his fault. He did not treasure her, treasure the happy memories they shared. He was unfaithful once, with a much older woman. And when she caught him that day, she chased him away, in indignance and hurt. Out of her life, out of her heart forever. In her innocent world, there was no room for a second chance. Once she was gone, his world crashed, and for several weeks he locked himself in his room, wanting to make amends but not knowing how to. His life, became a mere shell of a haunting existence that was torn apart by his own misdeeds. Many nights he cried out, “Where are you? Please come back…I cannot live without you!” But there was no answer. Then, it was the Christmas season and he could not bear to look at the top of the Christmas tree, as it would remind him of her, and how he had tossed her aside. Angel. Where are you? Later, he heard that she had transferred to another university several miles away, and she would start the spring term there. Before the first term-papers, there was a tragic accident. “Mr Craig, we require you to come at once.” Angel was dialing his number before the car skidded on the highway. It was a head-on collision. Numbed, he rushed to the scene. It was all his fault, he knew. She could not drive well. She was not supposed to be alone. When he reached the highway, he knew she was not going to make it. The frontage of the vehicle was battered beyond recognition. And when he saw her body, he cried loud, gasping sobs. She was with child. His child.

Trudging home, he realized how blessed he was to have known love and having been given a second chance at love. She unconditionally accepted him into her life the day she knew him. And he knew that for the rest of his life, he would be there for her, no matter what. He opened the door tenderly, and a warm, vibrant burst of energy shot out from the couch and ran straight into his arms.

“Daddy!”
“Stella… Oh God, I’ve missed you so much.”

The day she was born, her mother died. It was a miracle that the rescue team could extricate her mother’s mangled body and deliver her at the scene. She was unscathed. She was his star, the shining light that made him realize that there was more to life, than just looking to satisfy momentary pleasures. The last seven years aged him much, inwardly. And every Christmas they had together, he would place a shimmering star on the Christmas fir. This star was said to represent the guiding star that led the Wise Men of the Orient to the Baby Jesus, in whom redemption was found, for all mankind. So he named her Stella. It meant ‘star’.

He always believed in guardian angels. Like a shining star in the night-sky, he believed she was up there, watching over both of them as they gave thanks and celebrated Christmas.

3 days to christmas and all I want is ...

Whee, it's 3 days to Christmas and it's quite surreal, it doesn't seem very chrismassy to me here. Perhaps I associate Christmas with a hectic rush of parties, and meet-ups and stay-overs, and getting presents done, and hanging out aimlessly in town watching the soapsuds and twinkling lights and confused tourists caught in the last-minute shopping rush.

I remember last year, I just came back from backpacking a week in Malaysia, and when I touched base, I had to immediately shower, change and take the bus to church. We were carolling at RP then, and I had already missed 2 practices. Then, the mini project of making christmas presents, which covered my porch in ashes and I almost gave up as it proved much more difficult that I thought it to be. We couldn't finish it in time and stayed up past midnight to get it done, 'cuz the next day we had a stay-over house party. It's funny how the memories come back, almost as though they were fresh in my mind. and Watchnight, I was allocated a place on the staircase to sit. I think I scared Kai n Gif, sitting next to me, 'cuz when they played the song "You have been Good"(Scott Krippayne) I burst into tears and mumbled incomprehendingly to them. They were visibly stunned without a clue how to react. It must have been rather funny then. Yea, it was a rushed time last year, and I'm almost glad this year's much more quieter. I can think of my oikos too. Hopefully, I'll have the chance to go for 'Party by the Window', every single session.

There's no better party that a party at God's house.

An initial reaction to shocking news

More and more often I realise my initial reaction to things is a mask of how I should feel and more importantly, how I'm supposed to and how I will, in the long run.

Was traisping across the Causeway this morning when thru sms realised one of my nearest and closest friends is attached. First reaction: Indignance.

"What? And you never tell me..."

He clarified that (shockingly and interestingly) he just got attached. As in this morning.

Second reaction: Incredulity.
"What were the two of you doing last night?"

Then I realised I should spare a thought for the poor guy and being probably the first to know about it, through no fault of my own, be happy for him. Knowing that first-timers and guys usually have a hard time in this state of events. He's probably still reeling from the mixed emotions resulting from it all. So my last, and probably, best reaction of all was : Joy!

"Congratulations!"

Yea, truly wish them a fufilling time together, and hope that our friendship will in fact strengthen the relationship. Its' strange, I'm so close to this guy that all my past loved ones were jealous of him. Which is strange. Some guys don't understand the concept of platonic friendship, or mebbe they are just terrritorial creatures by instinct. He has offered me his shoulder to cry on, for the failed ones, and his prayers to bless the future ones. So Mr BestFriend, I assure you that through the twists and tumbles of being in love, I'll be there. You have helped me through. Oh yes, I remember it well, although I was too caught up in it to realise how much I needed your support.

Now it's my turn.

He calls me "miss poet"

I read somewhere that if you want to intrigue men, write poetry. The rationale behind it being that men do not understand it and therefore are curious about how to go about writing stuff that strikes chords in people. I feel as though my life experiences are an allegory to the greater things in store, I hope I don't have to be too careful about living it though. My lil wild spirit, like the personality of my tousled hair says nay to decorum and doing things step by step. I question reality, and how often we misconstrue what we actually mean. Yet I never know what I really mean, I see similar facets of myself in dear friends' blunders and erroneous ways. But when it comes to the crunch I am sure I will be in diaspora like them too. Although 'diaspora' might not be entirely the correct word to use, it sure does express how I feel about that, yea.

Endearingly Ches called me miss poet in the latest email. Got so caught up with stuff and people, coming back that I almost forgot about his existence, and shockingly berated myself on how could that be. Then again, it has been said that 'out of sight, out of mind.' I guess for some people it works, like an anthropological fetish we humans need to cling on to something material, like a cherished photograph, or a keepsake given by the missed one. The 'thing' becomes loaded with sentimental value and looking at it brings fond memories; although in reality it does seem absurd. I guess that is why talking for some people also works. For me it doesn't, I prefer to keep the view that the heart has its secrets and since it is supposed to be a secret, then telling anyone about it defeats the purpose already. So, not to sabotage reality and my beautiful life, buried deep within the recesses of my heart are many things that will remain so till its' time. I believe that as there are 4 seasons, there is a right and opportune time, how to release it then, I'm not so sure about that. Perhaps just follow your heart and the rest will just fall in place. And I just realised the fallacy of my earlier statement 'cuz I've hoarded up old love letters, even kept emails and stored sms-es in 'archive'. For years. I'm really a softie at heart after all. Give me a hug?

The Da Vinci Code, Christmas Trees

The Last Supper. The Fibonacci sequence of numbers. The pentagram. Baphomet. The city of Sheshach in Jeremiah. Mary Magdalene. Merovingians. Mona Lisa.

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown is an excellent novel. Excellent 'cuz it got me thinking and actually researching about certain things it said about my faith. This goes to show that it is actually a good thing, in that sense. Also it was highly controversially banned in my church's youth ministry. No point, 'cuz certain people, me included, will still read it no matter what they tell us not to do...and anyways it is a really intelligent book so the youth wouldn't really be able to understand 'the code' anyway. Haha. Emailed my pastor about some questions I couldn't manage to find out online so I guess I will post if here when he replies. Interesting stuff, the person seated on Jesus' right hand(supposed to be John) DOES look feminine, even Mum said so.

Yea, and contrary to most peoples' belief that the Christmas tree is a mainstay of pagan tradition (It doesn't make sense that the trees are also found in churches then!)... Well, the fir tree, which stays evergreen all year round; when the other trees wither during Winter; is, a symbol of Christ's everlasting life. So how's that little bit of trivia for ya! But yep, I must admit that the Christmas theme is still very euro-centric with visions of stockings and chimneys, snow-capped houses blah blah.

All in all, it's the little things that contribute to my merry mood this season. Even the little things that crop up does not dilute my focus, instead it enhances the clarity of my vision and strength. I'm determined to get by with character and trust. In God we trust.

"Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye."

-H. Jackson Brown Jr.

Equivocally unexplained

Ahhh... it feels really good to be out in town on afternoons again. Makes me reminiscence about campus life and I am glad friends my age are still studying... Mr Bestfriend's leaving on 27th to Seattle, I thought that I would cry my eyes out then but it's a dawn flight so there's no chance of me sending him off. Had the crazy idea of saving up my meagre salary and taking off to visit him; seems improbable (for me to save that much), but if there's a will... there's gotta be a way. I brighten up at the prospect of buying cartons of Old Navy, Abercrombie and Hollister Spring/Summer clothings... yea. Have not met Mr Bestfriend for months, the last I remember was sometime in his semester break last July. Some friendships grow dull with the ravages of time, ours remain pristine and untainted with the worst that can happen to best friends - secret crushes and likings that create a tingle and an unnecessary distraction to a sanguine, platonic friendship. Although we hardly meet, each time our lives are unravelled in the short span of time we have together, and I leave being comforted that no matter how huge my discrepancies, someone's there to support me. Just like Giffy, who over time has become a replacement-of-sorts for Mr Bestfriend. Attended Shannon's graduation with him yesterday, must say I am really thankful for the company. Shannon's show was great, I felt really proud of him as he received the 2nd prize of being the best student's work for the cohort. Almost as if he was my little boy. All grown up now, matured into a young man, standing onstage... 2 years have passed since I was first introduced to this quiet, tall boy with a distinct talent for art... who once shyly told me, I think you're pretty, which automatically made him my favorite cell member ever; and how he would introduce me as his cell leader, which I always cringed at. Even now, I never introduce them as 'members', 'cuz to me, they're all friends; we are all friends in the same cell.

At first felt slightly out-of-place with the family; but they were very nice, kept smiling at me and the Uncles kept cracking jokes to make everyone feel at ease. Strangely though, they never asked me who was I, or what was I doing here... I think Shannon's mum still has the misconception that me n Giffy somehow share a deeper connection; due to a faux pas that was made some time ago. It was rather embarassing, and I've come to the awkward realisation of seeing why she always always always asks me about Giffy, whenever we bump into each other. I wonder does she ask him about me, then? I wouldn't have minded much if they asked, really, I would have answered them from the sincerity of my heart, We are good friends... But then I guess everyone assumes that there is more to that, and since it isn't brought out into the open, neither of us hinges a statement on what is. For his sake, I hope he doesn't feel too offended by the subtle remarks; such as Uncle Thomas emphasizing that it is a gentlemanly duty of his to send me home; and their wanting us to take a photo together with the Christmas tree. (We disgustedly refused. Quite mortifying if it were to be developed and circulated.) Till the day either of us gets attached to someone else, the family's misconception validates me like a passport entry into their circles, unquestionably.

Heartbreak Hotel : The awakening of love and mistrust

Met up with two friends I haven't seen for several months yesterday, and as usual, we got to talking about the topic closest to our hearts - romance! Though I must say that the conversation was rather bittersweet with both sharing their frustrations and fears. Both have been hurt terribly. At times I feel that the option of giving up seems somehow brave, and honorable. I berate at the things that happened to them these months; and how I, caught up in my own dalliances, fail to offer them tea and sympathy. Naively, they fall at Cupid's vicious swoop, only to realise that they never really understood it at all. In part, it is not like being aware and leaving it till it is too late; it is more of not knowing what to expect till it suddenly befalls you and you fall into a abysss which you never envisioned to be there.

Being 'unlucky in love', I've sat with 'Ren many times till past midnight as he cheerfully shared his new lady loves and his strategy in wanting to know them. His only fault is that ... he is too nice. So nice that people take him for granted, and much like the phantom of his own love-opera his ego is crushed time and again as one by one, the Lady-Loves invariably get attached to someone more handsome, older, more intelligent, more charming. Thus he wears the mask of nonchalance; not by any fault of his own. But his heart yearns to love and find love, so after some time of getting over it, off his heart flies, looking for someone to bequest their affections upon. For me, at least I channel all my anger, my frustrations, my unhappiness ... through writing. I guess I'd seldom write masterpieces then, 'cuz I do wish for my life to be stable, peaceful and happy.

Lin is a lady I admire for her single-mindedness(pun intended), and all through the years I've known her, she was always the one who enquired with concern about who I'm liking now, and I know that I can always share with her, no matter how foolish it may seem, we would just laugh at it after the whole thing. She, on the other hand, was not as tempestous as me, she seldom liked anyone. But in the recent months she has had some heartbreak of her own, too. I guess this is all part and parcel of life's experiences, and in going through this we can take comfort in the fact that it makes us a little older...a little wiser, but hopefully, not more cynical. The betrayal of trust is the worst thing that can happen in any relationship, and so many times this year, through my and my friend's experiences I have learnt not to be too gullible, and to be a better judge of character. And for myself, to be a person of honor. So many people have shared with me their little secrets, I hope I can be as trustworthy to keep them safe. It is sheer stupidity to trust someone so readily, and then hurt yourself; by being innocent and doing what is good. Then again, should we forsake childlike innocence and be shrewd, like a serpent, even doubting our closest friends?

I'm on holiday!

Sometimes things happen when it's really unexpected, but actually a secret part of you wishes that it might happen, just that it would be too incredible that you actually don't dwell on the exciitng possibilities and just commit to a mundune, insipid and practical life.

Not for me.

Yea, I'm very blessed in this sense that this year, so much 'out-of-the-box' things have happened that I cannot help but marvel at my 'good fortune' which really comes from the One above. I realised that I've made so many new friends this year, and very amazingly managed to regain contact with some of the long-lost childhood ones. Like Yong An - I still remember we acted a pseudo-version of Titanic in a church social where I was the ingenue of the red haired Rose and he was Jack. Thinking about it now gives me the chills actually, it's disgusting! But I'm glad that I'll have a chance to meet him in the following week. Over the years, like many of my male counterparts, he has blossomed from a gawky, scrawny, geeky person to the tanned, stylish, handsome hunk he is now. =) Cheers! I guess I haven't changed much then; I couldn't recognize him the way he is now. Can't say I don't like it though. And Rongren, I've known him like since forever - since we were on potties and playing supersoaker block-catching...my neighbour in Ang Mo Kio; however we both moved away from that district in the days where pagers were not yet available... this year too, by aligned opportunities of meetings with new accquaintances; I managed to regain contact with him, on friendster, and sms.

And, one of the very best things this month is that I'm on holiday! My company gave me a break this month and I come back on 3rd Jan. The rest are on their annual leave, I'm given that too. Which is more than what I can ask for, and I'm exhilarated to get afternoons to meet up with my dearest and closest. (And of course, being a poolside bum again...provided Uncle Sun shows up more often!)

My poem is going to be published in 3 books come Spring 2005; I've always liked writing and journalism, and the English language in general, but perhaps because of my other time-consuming passions, I've never really indulged myself in it. Now, the prospects of me pursuring an alternative hobby/career in writing seems like an excellent idea to me. Maybe in a few years' time, a novel? Who knows? It's like I'm going through an awakening of sorts, I'm being more attuned to life, and to my self, my senses, how I react and what I feel. And hopefully through expressing it through the written media I will gain some accolades for the phases of life being expressed as such.

And with Christmas around the corner... I only have one wish.

For world peace.

Haha!

Sojourn in Sarawak

Whee!

After 8 days in the beautiful capital of Sarawak, I'm back home. The city, Kuching, is a nice place... the people there are so friendly that they even stop and talk to me on the streets, and wave. I look quite local though, I am often mistaken for a Sarawakian or either from KL. =) The British influence from the White Rajahs are still a big part of the town, with various colonial elements in the architecture. Some parts of the roads are real cobblestone, which was interesting to walk on. Very few Indians around, the only Indian foodstore was a prata shop with the chef looking suspiciously like a Blangahdeshi. He could speak cantonese; and un-authentically rolled the prata dough with a rolling pin. From the window I could see the rows of shophouses, lining the Sarawak river. The river was huge, snaking its way thru the entire horizon; and across it there is a castle, Fort Magherita; and several malay kampungs. The people here are tall, the Ibans and Bidayuh make up a large part of the community. They have Malay features but are very fair, and big-boned too. The chinese here all come from 'FooChow', they speak hokkien so their mandarin accent is understandable, but most look like the typical ah bengs and lians; probably the educated ones are not found on the streets. There's an interesting type of vegetable not found here; it has curly purplish ends, and when cooked lightly with garlic tastes like a crunchier version of dou miao, its delicious but we got sick of it after eating it everyday. And I ate their freshly plucked durians almost everyday too... Woo...

The highlight of the trip for me was the various breathtaking views of the mountains in the distance, and seeing the orang utans. The Semengong Nature Rehabilitation Centre there provided a few hundred metres' walk into the rainforest, where captured/tamed orang utans are released into the wild. We were blessed to see them; the keeper said there wasn't any during the morning feed earlier, and a lady-shop owner I spoke to a few days after said that she brought her kids a couple of times but couldn't see any. Watching the rusty-brown orang utans swing gently from the trees was amazing, this experience I wouldn't trade for anything! Being in nature takes the city out of me, I guess. There was one mother with the baby clinging on tightly to her middle as she gingerly went to pick some bananas and papayas...The sight just makes my heart melt.

The place was not what I really expected it to be, it is much like Singapore, yet not at all. And not much like any other part of West Malaysia... The closest would be Malacca, but a more 'backward', spacious, untainted version of it. The expanse of sky seems so much more there, as well as the clouds that seem to touch the rooftops of houses. Yea... I think I'll be back there, someday, the way I promised myself to be back in Malacca soon. (Note to self: Prepare to leave in late January.) Somehow although I'm much used to a higher standard of living, the simple life does have its charm to me. The things are cheap, the place is lovely and the food is excellent...