how come one mistake can continue to haunt for so long?

i wrote this in a totally different context yet it seems so aptly fitting for now

and so i'm just a face with a ruined name with apparent ties to a compass who oh! probably stalks chases and follows every single link and direction the compass points in

why? :'(

i'm plodding through history like an elephant plodding through ear-high mud. sticky mud. coagulated mud.

i've studied:
- at my desk
- sitting on my bed
- lying on my bed
- standing at the piano
- sprawled on the floor
- while watching zack and cody

i'm running out of ways to keep myself amused while STUDYING HISTORY rarrr. and i'm studying in school tmr! which only allows me to study in the first manner; which is the only dignified pose in the entire list i realise. haha which reminds me!!

i'm going to go chope MY TABLE tmr woohooo. i hope i remember to :D i hope taufik has written my name on the table. MY table! haha

okay i'm going to eat dinner and mango sorbet yum

if you dont see me studying tmr in a dignified pose, please whack me.

softly :D

live, learn.

ANNE OH.

this is to commemorate the episode of the poisoned pear. please observe a moment of silence.

emo shot #1 - grace eats her pear and her peers mope about

emo shot #2 - "arghh!! the pear...poisoned... adshkerfscn"

emo shot #3 - juks: hurry behead her, it will lessen the pain! joanne: noooooo! i cant bring myself to do it! grace: *dying*

emo shot #4 - goodbye grace....

emo shot #5 - the end... :'(

photos and captions all courtesy of juks :D wahahahaha WE should be the real scriptwriters behind all tearjerkers from now on :D

there is so much i can say, but words get in the way so-

i found the perfect graduation song! i will remember you by ryan cabrera :D and in the midst of egging someone on as a music pirate :D ryan cabrera's appearing alot in my playlists now. listen to true! and john mayer's no such thing is EXTREMELY apt for now.

-some day you'll turn your radio on, i hope it takes you back to that place

yay i love markypoo-meepok with chilli-top b&j buddy! it seems just yesterday when i was reading all of his infinitely many journals (!) and he was swinging his waterbottle as a light sabre above my head. 6 years and back, just like that.

-but in a box beneath my bed, is a letter that you never read from three summers back

it's hard not to find it all a little bitter sweet-

-and looking back on all of that





it's nice to believe-

U-Ni Go away
Applications another day
I just want my fun and play
Oh please shoo away
:(
I guess when we finally realise that our 2 years of transition in rjc has finally come to a somewhat official close, we're no longer students, teenagers who still need to be prodded to hand up our homework or to listen to the teacher. We're standing on the brink of becoming an adult, one who exercise his decision-making skills with ease and confidence (an assumed fact that does not seem to hold true for both of us) and one who is ready to leave his next. Is 18 really that old? Maybe I'm just too used to being taken care of, living a sheltered life. It just seems that a few hours of mulling over an essay, a few weeks of mind boggling applications would determine the rest of our life - our course of study, our career, our place in society, and who we are. I don't like making decisions. And ya I agree that we have been ingrained with this mindset that well surely we deserve the best? or at least near the best? surely we would be qualified to get into this and this? but when the awful reality sets in, when someone has to deliver the hammer, as mentioned by Professor X, it hurts and freaks us out. Have I been living in my own world? a world of comfort, predictability, love and fun? Regret can be an awful feeling to plague the rest of your life. But what if trying out a new experience ends up leaving you with one of the worst memories in your life? what is worse? leaving with tangible awful memories or foresaking the intangible wonderful visions? and sigh back to juggling between the many things that all seem so impt.

so this was how we all started. how will we end?

It’s been 18 years and counting. 18 years; or 6805 days, 20 hours, 5 minutes and counting. And now it seems like I’m just standing on the brink of a great unknown. The horizon’s so wide, the possibilities are endless, and it’s only now that I realise just how vastly small my decision may seem to the world but is probably one of the greatest decisions I’ve to make. Ever.

Even as I’m sitting here and typing this, I’m beginning to get cold feet and I wonder if my life is really working out in the way God would have wanted it.

What if I had never joined the gep. What if I had gone to dunman, I would most probably be in vj now, and maybe, who knows, maybe still with you. It was that sole decision in p6 that small utterance when mommy stood in the doorway of the morning we had to decide the top 3 choices that set me on the path to rg, to rj and now, where?

I look at the array of colleges, universities and just CHOICES that are waiting to be made and I wish with all my heart that I know for sure what I’m doing. Where should a humanities heart and a science mind go? And where do I go where I can still follow God’s plan for my life? And where can I go where I wont have JUST only a career for the rest of my life?

I never was good at making decisions, unless the answer was as clear as day. Pongs, I cant even decide what to eat for breakfast most of the time. I simply reach into the cupboard and hope that whatever comes out is something exciting. If not I fish around again. This isn’t really going to stand me in good stead now is it?

The sheer independency of going overseas and the utter MATUREDNESS of it don’t seem to be what I can manage. But something in me wants to try, wants to give it my best shot and PRAY and hope that it’ll be the best deicion I can make. Maybe the elite in me is too fully nurtured, maybe I think that by staying I’m not giving myself the best chance that all along has been handed on a platter to me.

Would I be able to give up all the many, infinitely many roots I’ve put out on this very soil. Plants can be grafted sure, transferred from one place to another. But pull off too many of their roots and you just see what happens. Would I keel over and just wilt?

Maybe it’s like the better decision made of the worse choices. Either I die from the sense of uprootedness, or forever be haunted by the knowledge that I didn’t try.

I feel like my mind is expanding, beyond its little walls, that though were restrictive, were at least familiar and cosy. It feels irreversible, like it’s ME in the WORLD. No longer just ME in RJC.

I will blatantly admit that I’m scared, and I’m unsure and I’m confused. But most importantly, I acknowledge just how much I cannot know, and how much God can. For it is in my weakness that He is made strong.

So let go and let God.

giving gifts

In a dark, untouched corner I kept this box of mine
Never opened, never stirred, left it waiting for years
Then one day someone took my hand
And gently opened up that box of mine
I started to discover that I had so much to give away
Once stored safe inside this box
A parcel of joy, a collection of blessings, a spoonful of saccharine sweetness
A spread of letters all penned with my thoughts (personal thoughts)
A musical box that whiled time away
This box did not seem to have a bottom
I could give (away) and give (in) and maybe in the end give (up)
Then slowly I realised it did have a bottom
A bottom I was trying to create
I wanted to stop giving, be selfish and mean
To stop myself from getting hurt
Why should I keep giving my things away
It’s mine and mine alone
But that person seem to warrant those things
The care and concern and silly little things I made
I stretched my neck, and extended my hand
I wanted to take something back from that person’s box
Maybe I did take some, but it didn’t’ seem enough for me
It didn’t seem to satisfy my inner desires
A teaspoonful of thought,
a miniscule stopwatch (that stopped time from flowing on and on)
Then we argued over each other’s box
Then I wondered maybe I should have never shared those things of mine
Maybe I should have waited to open the box later on
Maybe things might not have been the same
Maybe right now, we’re both bound by chains,
Chains that neither of us can break
It’s stopping you from giving your all
And now
Maybe I should also stop myself from emptying out my box

One year.

P.S. Really this is just a bottle of bottled up thoughts, don’t pry, don’t ask, I like to just say it out, and full stop.

ey says this blog is full of emo posts. ironically he told me over msn. ironic because i'm starting to not like msn. one only need wonder how many emo posts have been INSPIRED by msn. which is funny again when you think of how our very first argument was over my adamant decision not to use msn, which i finally did, which is another funny thing.

the waiting, the double-clicking, the clickclackclickityclack, the furious backspacing, clickclackclickityclack, backspacing, backspacing, backspacing

what a funny thing

12 there was you, 34 closed the door, 56 splintered red, 78 too little too late

you come creeping in at the most untimely of moments

a most uninvited, but yet wholly welcomed intruder into my innermost thoughts

oh bugger
-
maybe all i want to do is go back to 2006

waiting

i waited one year
then ten years
a life time
i looked out of the window
admired the nightsky
followed the stars
thought that they would lead me
to the right one

but i waited
and waited
yet the right one never seem to come
the one who cared
the one who listened
the one who spoke with tender words
the one who knew my heart's desire
(the one who dried my tears, not make me tear)

i looked out of the window
longingly
for a long long time
i dreamt of pretty things
carrying me away
but it never seem to come true
i felt saddened, i felt abandoned

i had waited
and waited
in vain

then i decided to turn away
and look within for the very first time
(or maybe i had looked this way before,
but my heart was always turning outside)
then i realised i wasn't the only one who waited

She waited one year
and ten years
a lifetime
as I looked out of the window

She looked upon me longingly
tenderly, with all the care
Behind my back, she watched over me
Within her heart she cried, when i cried
She listened every word I said,
but i was straining my ear for that voice from outside

And this story repeats itself,
generation after generation

We wait and wait
one year
ten years
a lifetime

Don't wait
till it's too late
just to keep looking for that 'soulmate'
and leave her or him to wait.

a distinct sense of discomfort permeates
rankling just beneath the skin
small stabs of pain that prick at the soft muscle
and so you do what you are famed for
wrapping one, no two, nay three layers of sheen over
the foreign object lodged within
protection you say, from all that hurts!
the tides ebb and flow
and the layers increase with its passing
behold! Its layers of lustre, the stratums of shine
then you realise too late,
with a vague sense of unfeelingness
that you no longer have a heart




for it’s encased in pearl
-

woe to that day if it ever comes, and i pray it never will. a moment of hurt is one thing, but a lifetime of unfeelingness is quite a horror altogether

YAYYYYYY! 3 more papers only! haha acktooaally ah it doesn't really matter to me already cause now i just come home and sleep, then study till 7 (I'VE IMPROVED!) and then woohoo it's ME TIME!

i know why i'm so happy :D haha cause i reread the tags on the tagboard and they were so hilarious they removed every single blight the exams have posed as (:

love to friends <33333.14

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, 13

i'm learning my lesson. that sometimes we can't love only those who love us. I fail and i fall and i keep falling short of the standards set. But by the grace of God and with His strength, i'm going to start loving everyone that comes into my life and treating them not in response to how they treat me but how Jesus would treat them (:


haha i was going to sign off UNTIL I REMEMBERED hahahahah okay toodles!

z0mg. there're a billion things nicer to talk about, to post about, to wax lyrical over. but mugging [no not studying, even less so learning] just drains all my inspiration a w a y and i dont even mug after 6 -.-

friday is insanity squeezed, distilled and concentrated in its truest form. hyperbole eh.

cannot.wait.for.end.of.friday. then saturday brings love's labour's lost!! i'm so excited now, it's been eons since i last watched a play. cause NOONE wanted to watch dimsum dollies ): yay play prelims go away! woohoo my language skillz is teh proz.

haha from now on we're both not going to sign off so go figure who's who.



and it's hard to traverse between-


this post is so pessimistic ):

sept 6

i don't really get it.did community service in the past 2 years?served the school as a leader in any way?performed exceedingly well in a sport?aced your childhood away?picked up any skills outside of sch?travelled abroad to help others?must we always use such yardsticks to determine the worth of a person?maybe i'm speaking from a position that is quite sparse in all these areas, achievements/accomplishments/noteworthy points so to speak. this sounds selfish, self-centered, narrow-minded, but then why can't we live for ourselves? you shd start judging people based on what they desire to achieve, what suits them in their own individual shell, not take society's absurb measurements and forcefully thrust upon them. it could determine their future, their career, their life. if i like spending my days at home just mulling over stuff, not seeing a need to interact with the old folks simply for the sake of CIP hours, but instead spending precious time with my loved ones, am i to be faulted? if i like to take up a sport, but not excel in it simply because i'm not a competitive person, does it mean i'm less worthy than those flaunting gold medals? ok granted, and definitely we shd applaud, those who are able to juggle good grades, recognisable sporting achievements, contributions to the community's overall welfare, making a point to lead others (not everyone is born a leader btw, or else where shall the followers hail from), yes yes really remarkable achievement i shd say. but that doesn't mean others are anything less worthy. well it seems that character, and more intangible parts of a person are gradually getting recognised as worthy too, but this recognition remains a far cry from what the person truly deserves. i dont' know, just random ramblings, ok back to mugging (one of the yardsticks we're all hoping to excel at least- get good grades).

JJJJJOOOOOAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEE

too many choices

i'm going to spare about 5 mins from this crazy mugging period to just say sth that has been on my mind for some time. choices. i realised that with the explosion of choices available to us, each day, as we grow older (and supposedly wiser), it seems like our decision making skills are becoming lousier. or at least for me, a person who's super indecisive. in econs terms, every individual makes choices, weighing the opportunity costs (the value of foregone alternatives) against the benefits accrued. it has been ingrained in us so deeply, that we fail to realise it. when choosing the course to take, when thinking about uni applications, when falling in love and wondering whether the person we've chosen is the right one, when deciding what to eat for lunch, when thinking about the regrets that we might have to bear if we take the wrong path in our future careers. so many options now, and yet so many pitfalls for regrets as well. well come to think of it, the very fact that i'm taking out 10 mins now of my mugging time, is also another opportunity cost, or is it. it's sad that we're always trying to find the best for ourselves, well it's not wrong, but it gets tiring, too rational, too grown up. i want to be like a child, where decisions were made and paths paved for me. but is it really a more attractive alternative? imagine living without a choice, that goes back to the days of our grandparents. maybe. and i read somewhere that says, when you've so many choices, even after you've made the best one in ur opinion, you wouldn't enjoy it so much because of the thought of all the lost options in the process of havin to pick one. such a confusing world. oh well, back to mugging. i'm still perplexed with making decisions.

am i pretty?
it's such a shallow thing to ask.
it puts the person subject to such a question in a really tough position.
it's something deep down probably would have crossed one's mind.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder. yes true, but society's lenses has kind of narrowed to a specific category of characteristics of what beauty entails. it's like a checklist that contitues a pretty person. and we can't help it, as much as we don't like to be judged this way, to be influenced by our first impressions, which inevitably results in one's looks taking up a really significant portion. even if this was just a temporary initial impression.

haha i don't even know why i'm writing about this when it doesn't make much sense and doesn't seem to go anywhere. we like looking at pretty things, we're attracted to pretty stuff, we like to be pretty. as long as that doesn't take hold of your entire being, make you focus on that one and only goal, as long as you know that your friends around you love you because of who you are inside out, as long as you carry yourself with confidence, knowing that you are really really truly special for who you are, seems like prettyness isn't such a big deal.

well it does. it remains so. but to what extent would it bring you everything you wish for in life?you know that the friends whom you hang around with, share your troubles and joy with, aren't always the conventional pretty ones. it's their sincerity, their concern, their joyful presence, their words of wisdom, their comforting silence that illuminates the latent beauty from inside. and so, schizo as i sound, pretty isn't so impt right.

so am i pretty? are you pretty? i can't tell. it takes more than one glance to give the right answer.

my thoughts at 5.11pm

A levels are just around the corner, at least prelims first, but it just smacks you in the face how fast time flies. i'm sure that saying has been so commonly used that we just accept that inevitably, but sometimes you just don't wish time to pass so 'quickly'. maybe i just happen to be one of the rare few that don't wish to grow up, maybe i've been living too sheltered a life to deal with a future full of uncertainties. standing at the brink of teenage-adulthood, i feel lost. just look at those friends around you bursting with ambitions and goals, and you wonder to yourself, what exactly am i living for? what is sth i would die to do? haha probably nothing, unless to save my loved ones.

i don't like to be gossiped about. haha well i'm guilty of doing it at times too, but it never strikes you how hurtful, or just irritating it can be. to be at the other end poked by those pathetic talk. well of course, as you could refer to the previous post, learn from the quote. if you've nothing better to say, shut up. it's really amazing how the human mind has a natural ability to filter out words/actions/thoughts. it keeps the not so nice ones, those that can be used in the future simply to rake up the past, and harp on it, and make someone feel bad. but how about the blessings that are showered upon every day?

what appears on the outside is almost certainly deceiving. judging people is on par with gossip. i'm guilty of that too. and so are you reading this, you're probably making some judgement of ur own. but it's so instinctive. if someone's acting unusually, there's probably an underlying reason. yes given it may be the character of the person just being plain weird, well i don't think scientists have discovered a gene code called weird right. surely then it must be an external trigger factor. so i guess until we know the person better, we shd just leave him/her alone. right. haha but i'm judging those who judge simply by saying this!

and sometimes you just feel lonely. it's a loneliness inside, an emotional kind. we've harnessed the ability to effectively shut out the inside from the outside world. focus on what's the priority now, don't let those silly feelings distract you. but it doesn't ever go away. and even when you try to confront the source, you don't know how to go about handling it.

i think really, the difference between family (parental) love, and that between non-blood related people, is that the former is relatively conditional. in the sense, you were born to this family, and no matter what, this subtle love remains. it doesn't need flowers, honeyed words, specially made gifts, special acts of service to be sustained. in fact, this kind of love surrounds you all the time. maybe the expression is more coarse, less obvious, but at least for me, this kind of love has never failed. when i'm sick, looking ugly and worn out, my mum's always there. even if i were to stay back till late into the night, my dad's always there to fetch, anywhere around the island. when i've the most embarrasing stuff to share, i've got them. perhaps i'm the one not opening up enough to other kinds, or perhaps i just don't know how to draw the line. between demanding too much and sacrificing one's wishes, discounting one's rightful place. between us and me. anyone knows how?

our mind is really the most fascinating place to be in. although i foresee the next 80 odd days will be largely spent immersed in our books, we can always count on our mind to bring us anywhere we go, and see whatever we want, and dream of whatever we hope for. so despite this seemingly not so postive post, let's always hope and know that God's faithful, and no matter what happens, no matter what troubles we face, we've got Him to turn to. that's one blessing i'm going to count today.

[if you're a regular of this blog, you probably know who it is already]

i think i've learnt something new today.

that no matter what, there will always be those who think you're beautiful, both on the outside and inside, and will always think you're beautiful. and then again, there are those who will never think so. and it's alright (:

time and again, so subtly present, yet so heavy a load, we think that we're not good enough. against what criterion we're pressed up hard against, we don't really know how to qualify it, but we know we fall short somehow. fall short of those who've got it all made. who know the right things to say, who don't feel so tongue-tied and socially-inept. and so we blame ourselves, and we try so hard to prove a point we don't even have to make in the first place.

i'm starting to feel more comfortable in my skin, more forgiving of what used to seem like mistakes, but were rather just unique parts of me. not wrong, not right, just a me that has nothing else to be compared against.

i don't have to feel that i'm not matching up to the standards that have been predetermined, the multitude of standards that trace the outs and the ins. what's outside and what's inside are just two flip sides of the very same door. if what i have to be is something to be proven, then it's not worth the proof.

no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. - eleanor roosevelt

growing up does have its nettles and thorns, but it's amazing the lessons God teaches if we're willing to quieten down and just listen, like this sense of assuredness in Him. (: