Biting

innocuous reverting; stealthy relapsing
back to step one, step one
i beg you to stop. a sumptuous
dinner, an insatiable hunger -
it bites and goes on biting at
all dignity.

Being good.

Back home once again to thrash it out outside of the four walls where i’ve spent the last three weeks. Home once again to see the words ‘be good’ written on my whiteboard more than a month ago.

I toyed with the idea of setting up a recovery blog at a new address/site. But a concoction of sentimentality and narcissism dispensed that idea and here i am, back at good ol’ wordpress. additionally, here’s a resolution to keep posting regularly – for accountability’s sake, ‘regularly’ connotes posting minimally thrice a week. I need to get back to writing and putting pen to paper, thoughts to site.

Anyway, why delay the news of the day – I’m discharged! (in other news, iPhone 4s has been released today in Singapore.)

And at a much higher weight than I’ve been in ages. I’m nervous, honestly, about being outside of the four walls and free from the scrutiny of people in white telling me to scrape my plates clean, to eat up the last morsel of food placed in front of me. I’m nervous about tumbling, tripping, sliding back down to square one in terms of eating; hence the feeling that I need to be accountable somewhere – even if it means posting my intake online to faceless readers.

So for today:
Breakfast: Muffins (1 Banana and 1 oatmeal), Resource 2.0, Yakult, coffee with sugar and milk
Lunch: Kai See (Shredded chicken) Hor Fun, Banana
Tea: Half a packet of Lakerol sweets, apple
Dinner: Mushroom (with pork ribs sauce) Hor Fun
Supper: Crackers (alot)

Yes I’m having supper and will be alright with it, regardless of what supper is. It’s only 8.17 pm but I’m beat. Dinner was awkward what with the post-meal parental supervision. But that’s a rant for another day.

wheeling.

at twenty-four, im unlearning
the ways. unlearning is tougher than
learning these days.
an orange and lilies against
a black wall.

i’ve told no one what you’d said
about the end. i’d made you
out to be a
godsend.
photocopies of certificates
on a wheelchair.

so shut me out and break me
down, up. i’m tapping my
feet and wobbly wheeling
on. cut me like an
onion and i’ll sting you right back,
my valentine. i want
the roses,
the red, red roses.

i wheel myself, but
you must stay close. the roses
i hold. but everything else
you do. just wheeling, and
wheeling, breathing
and breathing,
i stab, shun, score.

What a plunge! Right into the pool of second and third chances; straight into the ichor of new beginnings. Counting my blessings a week late, thank you – divine god of the rejects! I don’t use the term ‘free-thinkers’ no more – not when I can help it anyway. Because yours truly simply doesn’t feel the ‘freedom’ implied in ‘free-thinking’ no more. I forget how much of a reprieve writing can be – creative writing, my writing, my unpunctuated flood of rhythm and words. one tutor, who shall be unnamed, to credit for this reprise.

You are alpha, omega, beginning and end

extrapolated sentimentalism/ happification – two very special individuals in my life are getting married (: i will tear when i see that girl in a wedding dress – that girl who showered nothing but care for me in those UK years. i will tear when i see that boy (man?) in his tux, our dear wei peng, kissing his bride. because i know he will be caring for her, selfless and committed in the years to come. why am i writing about this?

gawd knows. it has been quite an unplanned journey for me since returning to Singapore and some semblance of the memories from York that we had embedded in our heads, the friendships formed are really such welcome reprieves from the demands of Singapore, of civil service. whoever came up with the term ‘nostalgia’?! give the term some thought and really, you realise you’re not alone in finding a WORD that approximately describes why you are still awake at midnight, looking at pictures taken during the more happifying and contented chapters of your life.

you are holy; you are mighty; you are worthy of praise.
i will follow; i will listen; i will love you all of my days.

you are lord of all, you are king of kings;
you are mighty god;
lord of everything
you are emmanual, you’re the great I am.
you’re the prince of peace, who is the lamb.
you’re my saving grace.
you will reign forever, you are ancient of days
you are alpha, omega;
beginning and end.
you’re my saviour, messiah, redeemer and friend
and i will live my life for you.

It was a wednesday; this song was playing on my laptop. and i received the news; these two special individuals were there. i never thanked them, but thank god for them. thank god for the consolations. thank god for the comforts of just vaguely knowing about my messiah, my redeemer, my alpha and omega for whom to live for.

One permutation.

It is fascinating how a spanking brand new Sudoku book from Kinokuniya could be redolent of memories past – memories of backpacking in Europe. 9 numbers, 9 boxes – and only ONE permutation. only one permutation.

Since picking up that first Sudoku book at …was it manchester airport (?), I’d been wondering if the millions of people worldwide who are etching these 9 numbers into the 9 boxes are doing so for the same reason I am – to just be momentarily satisfied that there is a single permutation. Like in a jig-saw puzzle. The 9 numbers either fit or they don’t. The jigsaw pieces either fit or they don’t.

All planned out; planned in advance.

All designed to fall into place, eventually.