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Don't watch the video because it's somewhat horrid. Just listen.
It's killing me, softly.
A gastronomic success so what? i'm pining.
Pining after a man who remembers not my face nor my name. A man whom i suspect has his arms filled and embraces appropriated by the incomprehensible, and unattainable.
An irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired overwhelms me, manipulates me, threatens me.
Lesbian tendencies and nun destiny/ Gone.
all in the past.
why now? Even when i'm assured of salvation and of forgiveness day by day...
Every once in a while, they come back to haunt me.
inflicting guilt.
i realise i haven't fully forgiven myself for implicit murder.
knife on my lips stabbing heart.
wonder how many still lay dead. Forlorn.
i'm really sorry.
jealousy and insecurity.
i want to rid of them but i'll never forget.
2 Corinthians 5:17
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!
Where's my faith?
Falling Slowly
Glen Hansard And Marketa Irglova
I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along
Hello CLARA WEN SU WEI:D
HAPPY 17th BIRTHDAY!
i know you know i love you:D heeeee.
quickly get well soon kay,
i want my pinic at botanic gardens. HOHO.
i absolutely adore this place. It is quaint, quintessential and charming. It is all at once an artist enclave and a lion's den. ah yes! Vice, i've seen them all! i even know where the half-naked cheeko uncles live:D
thank you cheeko uncles for your whistles even when i'm fully dressed:D
i don't think i can ever bear leaving this place. The 99-year leash is ending soon but i'll probably not live to see the day. haha so i shouldn't worry about moving out.
In case you're wondering, i live in one of those two-storey pre-war apartments. It's slightly larger and airier than the five-story ones. Plus, our ceilings are much higher than those of the post-war estates across the road.
so awesome right:D
One thing i find amazing is that you'll never lose your way here. just know where you wanna go and you'll eventually reach your destination. Back alley, front corridor, across the road, around the bend, you'll always get there.
Nevertheless, its terribly disheartening is that Tiong Bahru is quickly becoming a place to be seen at, especially with all the hype. More and more of those little, little motels are popping up every few streets away and it's kinda annoying me. They try to accord the architectural designs to the setting but sorry luh, it's so not art-deco please. You think you put all the retro pattern then you very 1930s issit? You're just an artificial creation! hmpf.
Worse still, some of em don't even bother trying, they paint the entire facade purple and call themselves Osaka.
i remember i was pretty upset when the poor little run-down temple and bird-watching area have to be torn down to make way for 'urban development'. i still get melancholic when i think of it. Oh well, nostalgia's helpless against the winds of change (and money).
:(
i read a comment in the papers not long ago which pointed out that Tiong Bahru has always had a seedy reputation and the fuss over the opening of hotel 81 should thus be rendered an over reaction. i was a lil affected afterwards. i'm upset not because of the person's stance on the issue but rather his comment.
Just because Tiong Bahru has a reputation for its night doesn't mean anybody has the impetus to undermine its extraordinary beauty, such that something vile and obtrusive should be viewed with ease and resignation. We do have a bustling community and i'll really be surprised if nobody bothered to react.
i'm not against the opening of hotel 81... but purple is just such a bad colour.
this place is who i am and everything that i love.
history, heritage, family and old people.
(as usual, i forgot to copy the source. i know i'm such a sotong.)
First, we must not try to minimise or dismiss the offence as if it never happened. If it hurts, then we must face it and feel it. A common misconception that keeps people from forgiving is that they think in order to forgive they must come to the place where they look upon the things done to them as being really not that bad. This is excusing, not forgiving.
'Real forgiveness means looking steadily at the sin, the sin that is left over without any excuse after all allowances have been made, and seeing it in all its horror, dirt, meaness and malice, and nevertheless being wholly reconciled to the man who has done it. That, and only that, is forgiveness.' - C.S. LewisSecond, we must see that forgiveness is not an emotional thing (though is can affect the emotions), but a matter of the will. It is making the decision that the wrong done against you will not count or cause a separation. In making that decision, remember you have all the resources of God available to you. This applies not just to minor matters like snubs, but major matters like divorce.
The task of forgiving must be more than a match for the magnitude of the pain involved. A choice has to be made. No matter how we are wronged, we can choose out of a desire for love to forgive.
*
yupp, hope this helps if you're facing what i'm facing:D
'irresponsible' - Authority Figure
one word to sum up my personality, my character, my integrity, and my life.
Sure, my deed or lack of it is in its very nature an act of irresponsibility. But it was not a deliberate attempt to cause inconvenience. The bare truth is simple. In the midst of studying, stress and all that clutter in my head, the message didn't register in my head. It slipped my mind. So am i now guilty of omission? So guilty that you didn't give me a chance to apologise, to justify myself?
Is it my candid demeanor or the swagger in my walk? Or is it my lack of respect that plays out so subtly yet clearly in my speech?
I admit i'm overtly vocal at times (i do need to work on that) but i have seriously no intention to rebel against authority or whatsoever. So what's with the piercing glare that sought to subdue me, to conquer me and to bruise my already tired frame of mind?
(for the record, i am a mugger. i have no idea why i keep getting into trouble with authority figures. my mom says its my face.)
There is a chinese saying that talks about giving people a way out no matter what they've done. They call it a 'life path'. And indeed, it's so important to remember that 'the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations.'
Every little thing we do makes or unmakes us, makes or unmakes the people around us.
A twitch, a glance, a smile, a hug.
From now on, i am determined to extend mercy to the seemingly undeserving, for i received none when i so yearned for it. Besides, only God knows the whole truth anyway.
I am not irresponsible.
My lack of action is the irresponsibility and you have no right to condemn me. Neither do i have the right to condemn you because i'll never know if you've ever tried to be patient, if you've ever tried to love, if you've ever tried to play the role you're supposed to fit. I do know one thing though. You know not what is freedom.
I confess that i've felt a simmering, festering hate for you. I confess that i find it hard to show any form of respect to you because you've not matched up to standards. oh the audacity for me to say that!
I want to forgive you and honour you. I will fail. I already have. But I will press on, for you know not what is freedom.
sigh. so much for writing dispassionately.
One of those people who conform to this world.
To its excesses, to its reruns, to its appetite.
i just lost my priorities.
And like all the other times, i'm running away.
The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously—no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner—no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbour, he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat—the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden --C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory