time will heal all wounds

I sulked my birthday week through. Every morning I wake up telling myself I need to stand on my own two feet. "Own two feet, own two feet, own two feet..." I repeat to myself every time I get incredibly emotional and feel like crashing into somebody's arms. I have had nice chats with Ps Jeff, Hong Teck and Pris some days back and it touched me to know that they care for me like family.

I almost became a cynic of love and friendship. But now I think I need to consider plastic surgery because when I don't smile, no one dares to talk to me. So when I can't bring myself to smile, the whole world runs away. It's rather scary really.

Just someone special I want to thank:

You are god-sent. Thank you for putting me up at your place, snuggling up to you on your bed in tears, all your tissue, your clothes, your company, your support, your patience, your kindness, your concern, your generosity, your warmth and your love.




Now, some photos from my birthday...

Chomps

bbq@Roy's

M1, M2, M3, M4. please give your votes.

yay! yummy cakes for the birthday kids!

the girls

the sweet sultry priscilla

seng said this shot was meant to be artistic (^^)
he took a long time just to get this, really
Justin our expert, please comment.

Besides these, Joe treated me to apple strudel, David treated me to lamian at a chinese restaurant, Joyce treated me to dinner at the Bottle Tree Restaurant, bought me a cake and sang me a song at the park. Wenjun gave me a cakes and coffee treat with the company of Livi, Germs, Shuping, Esmond, Hendra and Gerald. Thank you all for your time and friendship.

The Very Last

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (write it) like disaster.

- Elizabeth Bishop

Crash & Burn

Funny how human beings need to be loved to live well.
It must be within the divine design.


What happens when ALL the love has disappeared?


I am the very soul of vexation expression when pressured.
But I have survived whatever I have survived.

All the happyness in the world

Yesterday, I lied in bed and cried all that I wanted, all that I could. For everything blue in this world, for all that didn't make sense, for all that my heart was too weak to bear, too afraid to bare. I cleared my bags, wallet, inbox and drawers.

Life begins today, at 20.

I celebrated the talent God gave me today by playing flawlessly at Georgia's singing audition for Musical Theatre. It probably is the first time I performed a piece for judges/examiners without a stray note, or an off time, or banging on the wrong chord.

I had a simple meal at a hawker center in Boon Keng with my mom before coming home and rest. I texted Victor and told him that today is a very special day where I have made significant decisions and declared him Friend No. 1.

I also wrote in my new journal, which meant fresh pages. I kept away all my photographs displayed by my bed, on my walls into neat boxes, tucked by the corner of my closet.

I made a special prayer today and made a new prayer list.

Then I took a nap, woke up to Priscilla's call all the way from Aussie! She made my day. I packed my books, magazines, journals and cds, then called Gerald.

I am going out now to get some colorful post-its, pretty hair clips, busk in lovely city lights and satisfy my craving for banana crumble!

When I come back, I shall open the gifts I have packed neatly on my table and read cards from Joe, Yaoguo and Ben.

Tonight is gonna be an awesome fatabulous night! :)

Lamentations 3: 19-24

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.

I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.

Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

How To Say Goodbye

Tell me when the time we had slipped away
Tomorrow turned to yesterday
And I don't know how

Tell me what can stop this river of tears
It's been building up for years
For this moment now

Here I stand, arms open wide
I've held you close, kept you safe
Till you could fly

Tell me where the road ahead is gonna bend
And how to harness up the wind
And how to say goodbye

Tell me why does following your dreams
Take you far away from me
And I knew that it would

Tell me how to feel the space you left behind
And how to laugh instead of cry
And how to say goodbye

Never let You go

The children just made my night. But I was a little stupefied when I had to bring a little four year old girl to the restroom. She stared at me when we were in there and I asked her if it was because she couldn't manage herself. She nodded her head and so I thought I had to just help her with her dress. But guess what, she had pampers on!

So Teacher Veron had to personally help her with her pampers. Oh gosh, what an experience.

I reached home tonight and just sat by my fish pond for a while. It's been some time since I did that, but when I was out with Joe today he told me it's a very therapeutic thing so I thought it was time that I try it out again. Then I understood the whole fish farm idea.

Today I learnt that in order to truly understand someone, we have to take time out and make an effort to stand in his shoes, do what he does, see what he sees, hear what he hears and then we will feel the way he does. If I truly want to understand how Christ did His ministry, what kind of person He was, what kind of God He is, then I have to take time out and make an intentional effort to do what He did on earth, I think I will begin to understand who He is, what He would say and do, how He really feels and thinks.

This must be what it really means to pray "more of You and less of me".

Of late, the sense of Loss keeps revisiting me; in circles of friends-to-be, acquaintances-to-be, crowds and chaos. I wish I never had to deal with them, sitting there, staring into space, filling in their blanks. WWJD?

Sigh.

Only they will hurt us

Class with Victor today was very heartwarming. I played him my song, and he stopped me halfway to ask what was bothering me. We shared about our moms over packets of tissue. Though I was responsible for all the packets of tissue, he looked more upset than me. For the first time, I sang to my own playing. He said it'll make us happier. "Don't be sad. Let's just keep praying."

East of the sun and west of the moon,
We'll build a dream house so lovely
Near to the sun in a day, near to the moon at night,
We'll live in a lovely way dear
Living our love in memory
Just you and i, forever and a day,
Love will not die, we'll keep it that way,
Up among the stars we'll find
A harmony of life, too lovely tune
East of the sun and west of the moon, dear,
East of the sun and west of the moon.

When I was younger, I cried for your attention, your time. But you couldn't give it to me. Twenty years later, you're asking for mine. And suddenly, I don't know what we could do together now. I no longer play with dolls and I can read already. Kite flying maybe, but you perhaps can no longer run. Beach walk maybe, but you hate the sun. Cook and bake something tasty together maybe. Hmm, will you come to church with me?

Kor

There was a time, very long ago, when you brought me to many places, shared your Garfield comics with me, played Risk with me, carried me on your back, drove me in your red convertible to the mart in winter, held my hands walking along the streets of Chicago and brought me swimming. We had a lot of good fun, at least I did.

We loved the sun, waters and sand.

I wrote letters to you when you left us to study halfway round the world. I kept writing and writing, some sent, some remained in my drawers. These days, we hardly communicate. It probably has been a year, maybe two. I can't exactly recall when I last saw you. Memories have become so vague. The New Year is over, and you didn't return home. I found this today at your online album and found it a sight extremely familiar. It brought me a kind of warmth, and a kind of ache.

You make such a wonderful father.

And you were such a perfect brother. I'm beginning to see, hear, feel and understand.

And it's telling me

Yesterday I drank your favourite Starbucks drink
Today I listened to a music album you'd listen to
and looked at things you'd stop to look at

I tried to fit into your shoes and take a peek into your world
I think I began to see, hear, feel, and understand
How you probably felt growing up the way you did

I hope I can share my world with you someday
and bring you to where I have been while we were apart
I think you'll begin to see, hear, feel and understand