what if...

I suddenly miss my growing years terribly. A kinda ache for the things that I should have done but didn’t get down to and now it’s all too late. The what-ifs in life that will resonate the rest of my life because there is no way I can turn back the clock. But then, if I didn’t miss those moments, I wouldn’t have the memories that are stuck in my head. A scenario of you can never have your cake and eat it.

a great day

It was a great day today. Three people told me that I’ve shed more pounds after my dengue episode. Simple stuff to make a girl’s day.

Diana held me hostage today. I had to agree to attend hip hop class and meet the nice butt instructor (she’s trying to marry me off, as with all the others) or be left high and dry without reinforcement rings. I caved. Don’t judge. At that point of time, I had to agree. Desperate times called for desperate measures ’kay. Now I just have to figure out a way to get myself out of that little white lie.

The secret seven is so weird. They’re either trying to marry me off or get Fang pregnant.

mad over mandarin

All the Chinese teachers that have ever taught me before would most probably be hyperventilating if they ever read just the entry title. Perhaps some might even take it as a cruel joke. Me, mad over mandarin. Even my other teachers long dead and forgotten would turn in their graves. I’m every Chinese teacher’s nightmare. The child that simply cannot cope with the language. My pronunciation is deplorable and my writing, just don’t even go there. But I can hold a decent conversation. So much so that I took home a merit for my O-Levels Chinese Oral Examination. I’m guessing the examiners thought it pretty funny just to hear me speak that they decided to reward me for the free entertainment in their otherwise boring job.

But then I digress. Frankly speaking, not withstanding the jibes, I actually dig the language. Ok. So I dig the songs and the people that sing them. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m a teeny-bopper. I actually like the multiple teensy boybands that have sprung up over the past decade or so. Now, now, don’t roll those eyeballs lest you can’t get them back in sync again. Whatever is so horrendous about that? *sheesh* Cute boys singing cute songs. You can’t get any better than that can you? Now that is what I call entertainment.

playing with words

I’m bored. Terribly bored. But at least this year, I’m not lying emancipated in my uncle’s house, listening to relatives play mahjong, subjected to Barney the Purple Horror’s umpteen rendition of listen-and-follow-along songs and force feeding myself on my grandaunt’s deplorable cooking. Ok. Ok. It isn’t all that bad. But it’s just that 25 years of voluntary subjected torture is just about all that I can handle. So that’s why when my mum suggested not visiting this year, I seconded, third, millionth the idea. And that leads me here. Trying my hand at a couple of new words I’ve been learning lately.

This is an excess usage of sesquipedalian words. However, it nary bothers me, the capricious person that I am. People might find me pugnacious. I might even become incommunicado. Who cares? I see it as my predilection for revolt.

K I’m REALLY bored nuts. The girls are coming over tomorrow. I’d better shove all my stuff out of sight.

mary martha

It’s been a pseudo week and I’ve mugging through.

Was at a wedding yesterday. A good friend’s. And I met a lot of people. People that saw me through my growing years. And suddenly I realized that that we’ve changed. There are more strands of white hair. More wrinkles and laugh lines. We’ve all grown older. And with another year full of hours and days comes another year of worries, problems, targets and goals. When will this vicious cycle ever end? When we decide to let go of our tenacious grip of our perceived and presumed reality and let what was designed to be run its course. Only then will we finally get to savour the days of our life to its fullest potential. The way it was originally created to be. In today’s society, there are more Marthas then Marys.

I want to be a Mary Martha.

Is it an impossible? Not with my God.

falling

I fell today. the one million and one time I suppose. Split my sandal *yippee* Didn’t bump my tail bone *phew* and lost all remaining shreds of my dignity *what’s new* Just realized that I’m forever falling. Be it literally or metaphorically. And more often than not, I end up flat on my face. Reality is the pain never ever goes away; neither does it dull with time, no matter how many times you fall. And there is never ever anyone there to hold you when you do.

Lift me up – when I’m falling
Lift me up – when I’m weak and I’m dying
Lift me up – I need you to hold me
Lift me up – keep me from dying again
Jars of Clay

time

Time is such a fleeting transient unfathomable thing. It’s so precious and so is the value of our lives. Life is so short and there are a million and one things that needs to be done. I want to do so much and see even more. Many people complain of the lack of time in each and every day. 24 hours is so little time. There should be more hours! And yet, I marvel at the wondrous wisdom of my Almighty God for only placing 24 hours in a day, 365 days in a year. Only with scarcity will we start to appreciate and savor. I have learnt to be content with my lot. If I can’t finish things today, I’ll do it tomorrow. Not because there will be more time tomorrow or even a tomorrow for me but because I have done my best for today and it’s time to rest for the day.

Do not worry for tomorrow for tomorrow will worry for itself.

before it ends

places I'd want to go before it ends.

• japan
• russia
• india
• hong kong (august 2007)
• vietnam
• cambodia (june 2006)
• bhutan
• mexico
• egypt
• africa
• portugal
• scotland
• ireland

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the road less travelled by. And that has made all the difference." Robert Frost

getting listed

I’ve gone public! For a moment, nearly typed pubic instead. That’s what happens when one gets so dependant on spell check. Tis a crying shame tho. With real people who matter reading this nondescript space, I can’t blabber about them all too much. Then again, who really cares eh? They choose to read what I’ve chosen to write. Let them deal with it.

"Always a side dish. Never a main dish"
Nazrana Zainuddin

a hard nut to crack

I suppose I’m quite a hard nut when it comes to the heart but there are still things in the world that have the power to melt my heart and make my insides go all soft and mush

• drop dead gorgeous guys
• when a guy tears
• a guy on his knees
• a guy in a well-cut suit
• when a child cries
• when ju calls me
• heart wrenching scenes from a movie or song lyrics
• wholesome family scenes
  

My parents just fought again. It’s been so long that I’ve long lost count. Just wonder how long I can hold out until something snaps within. Time will tell.

black

Your color is black. The color of night. Serene and mysterious, black conjures up images of elegant evening gowns, dashing tuxedos, and gleaming limousines. Traditionally a symbol of success, black also represents power and an uncompromising demand for perfection. Not surprisingly, you tend to set challenging goals for yourself and do whatever it takes to achieve them — your strength of character is second to none. This unfaltering determination, along with your natural elegance, impresses people. But keep in mind that your personality might be intimidating to some. Try to temper your demanding side with a little softness — trust us, it won't kill you. Overall, though, black is the color of professionalism and achievement, which means it's clearly the color for you.

*and i thought my colour this year was plum and red. a great excuse to go get a new wardrobe*

my final say

Today, my pastor talked a whole lot but I only remembered that he talked about being remembered and what his eulogy was going to be. And it was a really really long. I actually thought about what he said. The conclusion? For me, I’d just have three simple words on my epitaph - Home At Last. What can I say? I’m a person of few words.

the potter boy

Do the Harry Potter books by Joanne K. Rowling promote witchcraft?

The question is important. No one can deny that Harry Potter has taken the world by storm. Children are reading again. British author J.K. Rowling has captured the imagination of millions ith gripping, well written stories about a childhood hero who engages the forces of evil with his own magical powers.

Many parents are concerned especially because of the Bible's strong condemnation of witchcraft, sorcery, and magical arts (Jeremiah 27:9; Revelation 21:8,15). Many wonder whether Harry Potter, innocent as he seems, might contribute to an acceptance of more dangerous kinds of sorcery lurking in the shadows of postmodern culture. An answer to this concern needs to be balanced between the warnings of Scripture and the legitimate use of creative imagination in fiction.

Witchcraft approaches the supernatural as a means of providing a substitute for dependence upon the one true God. The pursuit of witchcraft therefore involves a moral decision to turn away from and against God – something that seems contrary to the main thrust of the Potter series.

Like most of the things in our popular culture, the Harry Potter books contain potentially dangerous elements. But their popularity is at least partially attributable to the fact that there are many things about them that are good. Further, their popularity means that they are part of our cultural environment – whether we like it or not.

In a secularized world, believers should pick their battles carefully. In most cases, it would probably be better for Christians to be familiar with the Potter series, understanding its strengths and weaknesses, than to think they can keep their children – or others – from reading it or being interested in it. If we are familiar with these books, we can help the children we influence see their possible dangers, and use them as a means to lead unbelievers towards a Christian worldview.

With that precaution in mind, it is important to realize that the magic described in the Harry Potter books is not real. This is apparent to any adult or child who reads them. Broomsticks really don't fly, and wands and spells with magical powers don't exist. The fact that they do in this engaging fantasy is no more likely to make a child or adult reader believe in real magic than reading about Peter Pan would generate belief in magical pixie dust. Children who read about Aladdin and his magic lamp don't usually end up believing in genies. Neither do Grimm's fairy tales generally make kids believe that princes can really be transformed into frogs, that trolls lurk under bridges, or that cannibalistic witches live in marzipan houses in dark forests.

The magical world author J.K. Rowling constructs isn't dependent on gods, demons, or other occult powers. The fantasy world Harry has entered is one of magical "science," resembling the world our ancestors might have thought possible before alchemy, astrology, and other medieval "sciences" turned out to be scientific dead ends. 1 It brings the reader back to the mindset of a less sophisticated time when technology and magic were not clearly separated. It uses folk beliefs and legends to entertain us and engage our imaginations, but it never suggests that Harry's world is real or accessible.

Although clearly fantasy, the adventures of Harry Potter do put sorcerers and witches in a positive light. These positive portrayals could possibly encourage a belief that there are some forms of real-world sorcery that are OK. This is why we need to use these books as an opportunity to educate children about the difference between fantasy and occultism.

The supernatural in Harry's world doesn't seem designed to mislead the unwary into witchcraft and the occult, but to awaken readers to the non-material and spiritual aspects of their own lives. As in real life, in Harry's world things often aren't as they appear to be. The seemingly harmless sometimes conceals something deadly, and apparent coincidences may turn out to be important events that are part of a significant turn in life's journey. Harry's world makes the reader vividly aware of an underlying cosmic struggle between good and evil. These books have depth, and that is part of the reason so many readers find them delightful and emotionally gripping.

When fully perceived, real life has supernatural dimensions that make any fantasy world superficial. Life is stranger than fiction. Good fantasy makes us aware of those supernatural dimensions. Bad fantasy either deludes us (if we willfully use it as a means of circumventing a reality we can't face) or bores us.

As with all good secular literature, Christian readers are responsible to mind its content using tools forged by their own Christian worldview. When we read secular literature, we should keep in mind Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 2:14-15:

The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned. The spiritual man makes judgments about all things, but he himself is not subject to any man's judgment.

The real world is marked by sin and the curse, but the Scriptures call us, in the pattern set by our Lord Jesus Christ, to use the opportunities that the world offers us to witness to the truth. Certainly, good secular writers challenge Christian thinking and require us to grapple with issues we may not have otherwise understood. Faith in Christ, however, is based on a God who is the author and source of all truth and beauty. Christians are in a position to evaluate and learn from secular artists – like J.K Rowling – without paranoia or fear.

Dan Vander Lugt

(Radio Bible Class Ministry – the guys who do the Daily Bread devotionals)

speaking in codes

Is it more entertaining to watch Batman speak French or Spanish? Well according to Is, my good buddy and resident mitch, it’s suppose to be better to get a DVD from the source of origin. Yeah right, Is. Naz and I still think as Asians, hearing Batman spout his flowery lines in Tagalog, brings the man closer to home. *ohmigosh* Just realized I’ve fulfilled Is’ and Naz’s greatest nightmare. I’m finally bitching about them on cyberspace. In an obscure corner of the vast wonderment of bits and bytes. And guess who started it all eh? The dear boy who couldn’t settle for anything less than Code 1 and we spent so much time in HMV that us girls made friends with a really nice employee there. Men. And they think we spend too much time and money shopping. Dump them in an electronic playground like HMV or the Sony Ericsson store and watch them go gaga. Their eyes widen in amazement and suddenly, their normally rational mind goes blank with the plethora of choices as they pace up and down the huge store. Highly entertaining I must say. Just make sure there’s great music playing and a comfy sofa somewhere out of their way. And all this for Code 1. I’ll do Code 9 anytime.

treading the unknown

Here I am, coughing like crazy and absolutely refusing to take any form of medication. Sometimes I wonder whether I’m constantly treading on the path of self-destruction on purpose and where the hell is it finally going to lead to. I have a secret. I’m afraid of death. Seriously. Despite all the grand talk of not fearing death, there is still the wee bit fear of the dark unknown. Will it hurt? Will it be fast? Will I see flashes of light? Will there be someone at the end of the tunnel? Will someone be there to walk me home? Sometimes I wonder. At all the weirdest places too. Today i sat on the kitchen floor and ‘2 years’ just came to mind. 2 years to what I questioned. In 2 years, will my bargain be fulfilled? In 2 years, will I go home? Do I only have 2 years? What am I to fulfill in these 2 years? 2 years. Why 2 years? What 2 years? My mind raced as I scrambled to find answers but nothing came forth. 2 years. That seems like eternity and yet just a fleeting passing moment. A lot of things can happen. Why sit back and wait for it to unfold? Get down and do something. Anything. For now, I’ll just sleep. After tonight, it’ll be 1 year and 364 days.

loss & gain

Why is it that even though I seemed to have gained, I feel that I’ve lost much more? Am I doing a wrong exchange?

benjamin

I thought of you today. Many things crossed my mind. Your smile. Your infectious brand of humor. Your silly grin. Your zest for life. Your non-stop chatter. Your quiet air of gentlemanliness. Your simple gestures. Your willingness to share a portion of your life with me. And then I wonder where you are right now. Whether you’re married. Whether you’ve fulfilled your dreams. Whether you can dance to a tune. Whether your drumming skills have taken a step forward. Whether you’re still somewhere here in sunny Singapore or somewhere out there in another part of the world. The last time you were in Hong Kong. Are you still there? After so many years I suddenly thought of you. Bittersweet memories. I don’t think I’d ever get to say sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t laugh at your jokes everytime. I’m sorry I kept getting you in trouble with our drum instructor. I’m sorry I distracted you during practice that you’d miss your beat. I’m sorry I made you give up your jacket because I got all cold in the studio. But most of all, I’m sorry I left without saying good bye. I’m sorry that I stopped classes without telling you or even giving you a hint that I was going away. I’m sorry I disappeared one quiet day. I didn’t know any better. Now I know how it hurts. Now I know the bewilderment you might have felt. I’m sorry. There isn’t a day when I’ve wondered what might have been if I had stayed. Whatever it is, I hope you’re fine and living a great life. God bless you, Benjamin. There will always be a special place for you in my heart.

why i write

I write so I’d stop hearing these words vocalized in my mind because sooner or later, someone is bound to hear me muttering to myself and deem me fit for the loony bin. One of the rare pre-emptive measures in life, mine in particular.

worry

I worry. Who doesn’t? I worry that my liver will never be normal again. I worry that my eyesight is failing me. That some nerve somewhere is irreplaceably damaged and I haven’t discovered it yet. I worry that one day I’ll go completely deaf. I worry whenever I get itchy bites. Was it by a mosquito? More specifically, an Aedes mosquito? Will I get dengue again and start all that needle poking all over again? I worry. Who doesn’t? But then, night falls and my head throbs and I start to see floaters. That definitely isn’t a good sign. So then I stop worrying and creep back to bed because only then, in la la land, do I break free from all worries and sleep them all away until I’m ready to fight them all over again the next day. Nite. Sleep tight.

my letter to ping

Re: Hey how are you?

dear all,

i'm much better now. ping, sorry you had to worry. no internet in sgh ward lah! is, didn't you say you'd let ping know? did i just sabo you? *grinz*

anyways, my hospital leave ended on 28/10. had to go for outpatient checkup aka take more vials of blood. at the rate i'm going, i can be a regular blood donor!

well, tests were to test my blood platelet count and liver enzymes coz previously results showed platelets too low and liver ones too high. bad part was the doc couldn't find a proper vein since they've all been pretty bruised (i've got some pretty bad blue blacks to show) by my 5 days of blood donation & i do have rather small & inconspicuous veins so taking blood is even harder. therefore, he had to poke me TWICE to get blood. test results: platelets are fine. liver enzymes not normalized aka back to normal level so i've to go donate blood AGAIN one month later.

good part? i didn't get hysterics and faint. tho i did get kinda giddy and pale.

current situation:

think my brain's kinda rusted and rotted. thought processes are really really slow. my mum's trying to feed me everything possible (no seafood, no alcohol, no red meat, no spicy stuff) since i've lost my appetite as well. nothing appeals and it's so strange since i live in food paradise singapore. i get tired really easily now which so sucks. so now i'm going really slow with things like sleeping early and most prob leaving sch before my usual 6pm and not working myself into 12 hr days. thank goodness exams are all over but now i've gotta get their report bks ready and my first day back and i've got a meeting to attend. my mum thinks i'm not ready to face huge crowds for prolonged periods (she's kinda right tho i'm so not admitting it to her plus i don't want her to worry so much since she had a pretty bad scare over me) so guys, i'm really really sorry i couldn't break fast at geylang this year AGAIN! i keep trying but it always doesn't work out. nxt year's goal = break fast at geylang.

well, naz i'll call you once i've settled with sch on mon. i'm trying to get well asap since is asked for such an easy present this yr:) and is, I GOT MY OWN ENTRY!!! thxs. but did you have to use that hungry hungry hippo pix? *sheesh* could have got a more glam one... then again, i don't think i have a glam pix do i?

ping, i'll update you once in a while k. fret not, you won't be left out. promise.

alrightz, system shut down

still surviving, liz:)