FRIENDS 4EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR :)

Give it up for my two favourites

fffriends

Joey: ‘Sup? ‘Sup dude?
Chandler: Take whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.

Joey: So you’re playing a little Playstation, huh? That’s whack! Playstation is whack! ‘Sup with the whack Playstation, ‘sup?! Huh? Come on, am I 19 or what?!

Chandler: Yes, on a scale from 1 to 10, 10 being the dumbest a person can look, you are definitely 19.

One of my favourite scenes

fffriends
Joey: Ross? You okay?

Ross: They’re still, they’re still not coming on man and the lotion and the powder have made a paste!

Joey: Really?! Uhh, what color is it?

Ross: What difference does that make?!

Joey: Well, I’m just—if the paste matches the pants, you can make yourself a pair of paste pants and she won’t know the difference!

Crankyyyyyyyyyyyyy

I know how everyone has reasons for loathing exams and i can probably name a list here but what really makes exams so irksome is that i have little time for my diary. I'm used to writing whatever I feel, running after every thought that goes through my heart and head because forgetting is one of my fears. The meaningless preparation for the ultimately pointless grades gives me zilch time to write. What I would give to be in someplace quiet now! I'd sing to my notebook, take me somewhere we can be alone. I can write pages and pages of diary for hours just sitting and thinking. It provides me refreshment for my weary soul. People ought to have the choice to listen to their hearts. So one more day. I will survive.

These woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep.

From one of my favourite poems. Because it always reminds me of how helpless we are in reality.

Quick thoughts before I lose them

Randomly browsing through videos as usual and I'm suddenly filled with so much emotions. Pretty unbelievable but not impossible. A girl who's fifteen and married broke the TV and actually resorted to setting herself on fire because she was deprived of the right to have any say in the family. Marriage has become a need, a process that such girls have to go through in order to fulfil social expectations. To prove their worth, even at an age as young as 3. I wonder what goes through their hearts when they undergo the whole process. Utterly robbed of all say and what little right they had. Surely their parents didn't wish for this to happen, but faced with intense social pressure, how many people are actually able to stand out from the crowd, fight the norm and possibly risk losing everything they have? People don't really have a choice sometimes. Most can fight and try making a difference but will ultimately find themselves conforming. Then going through rough patches, sticking it out, crossing the boudaries between life and death. And what is marriage to these people after so much turmoil they have to experience? It's no longer love but responsibility, accountability and paradoxically, protection. Because despite the evils and wickedness they have to face they would be worse off without marriage.
Love...has dwindled to such a state. And in most circumstances like these, I'm presuming most would never ever get to understand how amazing this thing called love is. So if you ever experience even a slightest tingle of love, treasure it. Because most people take it for granted and never give second thoughts to what beautiful things love could do to so many people in this world. I really wished everyone had a chance to love.

Valentine's

"I cannot behold you without emotion; my heart still answers to your voice, my blood in my veins to your footsteps."

I love how love letters were written in the past, where people conveyed their emotions with just pen and paper, in the most primitive fashion. So few words, yet with so much feelings. Diction that's so powerfully strong it reaches the depths of hearts.

I've always loved pouring out my musings on paper but I really wished I could write like that. So personal and delicate. I need to stop and listen more quietly. And forget the world that I'm in.

Almost clear

Recently I've been thinking a lot about the notion of love. Everybody interprets it differently. And I think I'm getting my answer soon. Blurred images of how love looks like are gradually becoming more vivid. Took me years. I'd soon come to realise what exactly love is in my mind and heart. And I'm most honest when I say I'm really writing these thoughts down because I want to face myself clearly. Unafraid, to reveal that a part of me may indeed be vulnerable.

Notes of the past

I was reading my previous blog -- well yes previous blog that had a blogskin and tagboard and which I left off about 2 years ago?-- and I feel that people should never delete blogs they have started even if they decide to abandon them because they bring back so much flashbacks. I used to blog in a more casual manner with random insertion of hysteria that revolves around school, friends and God. Comparing myself now with that of the past, I must say I have indeed grown so much more in my thoughts. Deeper, more sensitive. And I like it that God's such a big part of my life I blog with Him written either explicitly or in between the lines in my posts.
People do change but some things always stay the same - The immense amount of words on both blogs remind me that I have always loved writing. I wonder if anybody could ever understand this quiet passion of mine.

Hello 2010

Photos always remind you of the past because that's when the fun in that instant is captured to remind us years down the road why we shouldn't stop taking them.

I was just looking through the tons of albums we have on Facebook and I really miss you all 5 babies.

>:(

Euphoria

2 facts about me that most wouldn't know:

1. Yellow is my favourite colour.

2. I love Hello Kitty.

So, look what I received in one package for christmas!

Apparently the bottle is of limited edition and costs over fifty bucks.

It's Hello Kitty and it's Yellow (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Am feeling very ecstatic ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Christmas

It's been a while since I've spent time alone like this. I enjoy every bit of solitude because it provides silence for my thoughts to run. I'm getting a lot of DejaVu nowadays and I still can't decide if I like it. Something happens, and I start to see similar images in my head. Vague ones. I try to focus so I can get a clearer sense but they flicker and leave too quickly every time I do it. So I give up. It's way too exhausting having to chase after several images that may merely be figments of my imagination. But they inspire me to write because I'd like to think of them as subtle and delicate. So there, clarity may not be well-received by me all the time. Maybe it is through picking up scattered pieces everywhere that makes everything so much clearer for ourselves. Because such little occasions reveal part of the truth, one by one. And till today, I'm still collecting them. It feels like it never ends because when I think it has I'm always thrown off guard when a new one springs up and fits in so appropriately. I've always missed you and I guess it's the most during christmastime. Shimmering lights that dazzle and confuse me at the same time. They fade in, fade out. Almost hesitant, but keeping up with the beat of my heart. Your favourite tracks and I sing along. Reminds me of your voice which I haven't heard since you left. Every bit of christmas is like a trigger that tugs at my memory. I close my eyes and I see myself sitting under the tree eagerly looking for my name on the glitzy labels. Then I give you a hand with your gifts because you always have difficulty with unwrapping. Then to the one flashback I always have - your favourite question when the bottom of the tree is filled with all the shiny paper and ribbons.

"Do you know who the gifts are from?"

"Er, you, mom ---"

"Wrong. They're all from Jesus."

And I always got befuddled because obviously Jesus didn't buy them. But years have passed and helped me to see beyond what I could only think of as a child. Indeed, every gift, material or non-material, is from Him. He who does not change like shifting shadows. And you're one of the best. You must be having a great time with Jesus. Christmas reminds me of real joy. Real eternal gifts. Real spirit of giving. So this is really what it means to me, and I thank God for feeling this way because I know it's real and it can never be taken away.

Camp

A big blast, I'd say. I was never a fan of camps but this made things a little different. So I'm writing before I forget.
Majority of my memory lies in the busyness of it all. People passing by repeatedly. Swarms gathering, swarms dispersing. Words spoken hurriedly, cacophonies of voices and running footsteps. A request for help through an electronic device and the next second, a man scoots out of the door. A busy morning, then afternoon. All soaked and sticky. But you can't fall. Like an endurance race. Closure for the day and the corridors are silent. Bunks devoid of noise. Phone screen flickers occasionally to tell the time. A new day arrives, and it's the rush again. Greetings, invigorated expressions everywhere. A gentle breeze wafts through my hair, and I thank God. Everything reminds me of His unfailing love. Quiet, subtle, but with such great force. Across the days, rapport builds, people grow. Fruits of seeds sown many months ago. Contacts and messages exchanged. I feel a surge in adrenalin and my hand flies to my heart, which God has just touched when a boy expresses his gratitude. When another young man remarks, 'No regrets'. And I know, this has to be God. Nothing could be so perfect. All the little pieces over the months-fell into place so flawlessly. All the intricacies become intertwined so seamlessly. I marvel. I thank Him. Everything feels right, feels so good. And I know, it's His love. I'm so thankful for that decision made before anything was even planned out. Because He has brought me to and through an experience that will always remind me of His love, His grace and His providence. He has made it all so perfect. Thank you God for your kindness, and your love.

Tendencies

I drew a stickman. Accidentally gave it hands too long. I frowned at the deformed shape of its body. Quickly turned into a genius and drew more stickmen around. When I ran out of white space to sketch the head, the entire paper was littered with stickmen. All the same. Lifted the marker off the sheet and bit my lip. Eyes furiously scanning...........Futile search for the one I first drew. Held the paper up and scrutinized each man, one by one. My eyes grew tired and I gave up. Maybe there wasn't any in the first place. But I couldn't be mistaken. Then I knew. A matter of perception. When it's alone and presented singly, it screams the difference. It looks wrong. While in company, it starts to seem ordinary. With every increase, the difference shrinks. Boundary blurs. Clarity, previously indicated by red, is now replaced by a faded, washed out bluish-grey. That represents insignificance. Then disarray. When we allow ourselves to be deceived by the false callings of our hearts that in truth, originate from what we hear and form in our heads. That's how we lose ourselves.

Solitude

I tilt my head slightly. Propped against the wall. The wind chills the unshielded pallor of my face. I instinctively place a palm down on the cheek. While I allow my eyelids get a tad heavier. Until they fall..and shut. And I’m gently lulled to sleep. Sometimes I wish things just stop here. Where I’m all alone with nobody else. Where the only sound I hear comes from the iPod. Where I chase after my every thought to put it down on paper. Because this is when my heart becomes the loudest. Its every jolt, trip, plummet – amplified. It’s where the centre of my life lies. Where the only one I want to please in this world is. I wonder if people ever listen to their hearts anymore. Sometimes when it’s mind over matter, things lose control. But the heart never fails to find its way.

^^

"For am I now seeking the favour of men, or of God? Or am I striving to please men? For if I were still pleasing men, I wouldn't be a servant of Christ."
Galatians 1:10

And God never fails to remind me. Everytime I feel like I'm gonna break, He's here to prevent me from falling.
It's amazing how beneath all this tension and angst, I am able to feel at peace. Quiet, still. Slightly resigned but at ease.
So I think I'm able to put up with anything.

What the world will never take

"You are the best thing that has happened to me,

And the world will never take it away."

Past

A walk past the trees in the backyard, out of the familiar gate we used so often. The air smells of fresh apples and cinnamon, so sweet I couldn't help taking a few more breaths. Steps ahead of the mud wall, a figure shifts herself with difficulty and finally staggers out of the cab. In her late sixties, I thought. Her face was gaunt, sunken with creases at her chin and at the side of her eyes, so intricately connected as if they were scripted right there from the start. A wave of nostalgia hits me unannounced and I shift my previously static gaze to the tree that towered above the flats. Sunlight flickers through the leaves and warms my cheeks. I move a few steps forward, onto the sidewalk. The road has become unusually quiet. The old lady has gone. I am left on my own. I look up into the horizon and somewhere among the tinge of blue, I caught a glimmer of your presence.

Passion

A flashback. Two years ago. I recall the first time when I read that poem. The theme was love-hate. I couldn't interpret it. Because I never imagined one could love and hate someone at the same time. I used to think love always exists by itself. Without any speckles of impurities. But that moment changed my entire mindset and made me ponder for a while. A long while. Love, does come in many forms. Sometimes more than you could imagine. Mostly a combination of emotions.
My emotions are easily affected by the poems I read and feel deeply for. I was just wondering, maybe I'm contented with dying while I pen down the last word of my life. I never want to stop writing.

NCU!

Chinese lessons are our favourite because we don't attend any.

:)

Twilight

The usual brown scrunchie in her hair, a dingy little bag slung at her front. Black diminutive sneakers that she wears. I see her every morning, wonder if she realises that. She takes a few steps forward, and the doors slide open. Habits are hard to change, aren't they? I take the same spot every morning. She too. She leans her head against the glass, and I do the same. Across me, a mirror image. I'm falling fast asleep, the music in my ipod segueing from rock to slow, the train swaying lightly as though it has no wheels beneath. Occasional rocking back and forth, like a merciful lullaby. I look at the row of seats a few metres away. Fully occupied. Shoulder to shoulder. All eyes closed. Oblivious to the distracting blare coming from those speakers. It makes me sad to see the world so tired. World including myself. Because we know ultimately all that we have on Earth, we can't take them to our graves. If I were one of those naive girls who believed in magic, I'd wish for the world to remain in dark forever. That way, we never have to wake up. That way, the resigned expressions on our faces will never be exchanged. That way, there will be no reflection to see ours for ourselves.