strength

i love the nights. you know, when the music plays, and save for that one orange light [flourescent lights are too ghastly!] in my room, nothing else screams for my attention. behind me is my warzone of a room, with boxes, random singular, mismatched, lonesome socks lying on the carpet.

-nostalgic photopost-

and ive been a wreck today. so scared, so horrified. nothing was calming;i need self-medication, now! do you hear me, i need your attention, now! can’t you see me; i was broken! why couldnt anyone say the right thing, why couldnt you fix the pieces? why didnt you measure up to all the unreasonable expectations i’d ridiculously built up? oh, oh, wait a sec, i did this to myself. thats my greatest fear :x

to realise that i was responsible for this all.

but that was the day, and if ive got one redeeming quality, its this: i get on my feet, always. i’d feel faint, no blood rushing to my head. i’d look ghastly pale, but i’ll get up. and just keep fighting. because i know that if i keep fighting, im heading the right way. slowly, inching in the right direction. perhaps thats my best quality. im the ugliest person i know; but im also the strongest person i know.

and if the single most important lesson learnt over the year? it really doesnt matter what accent you put on, what currency you’re using, or where you’ve relocated to, you cant run away from your toxic coping mechanisms. and thats what scares me. how can i heal, how can i change when the head is permanently not desiring change? if the light at the end of the tunnel is just another plane ticket that takes me straight to another tunnel? theres no fear in love, is there?

No, theres no fear in love. so fight on. Sin’s curse will lose its grip on you; and from the first breath to your final cry, you will not stop hoping, perservering. You’re my best thought (:

week ten!

No guilt in life; no fear in death; so last night, a cocktail of elements – of which the morning's church proceedings was a principle constituent – spawned a wave of cheer and a convinction that, despite all transgressions, i am basically a good person. It was an uplifting conviction; but like all uplifting convictions, this one tends to lose all substantiality the minute i get up the next morning. Sunlight makes me cynical; so does conversation.

The last seminar for the year (: Hm,shaky hands, the guy who took this shot. I really liked this sem group, coffee breaks and all. On the board behind are the words: 'Romanticism is Sublime', courtesy of Alison.

Last summer, a girl called Ailin welcomed me into her room in James, during the tour Enqi was giving my mom and i. This thursday, this girl is flying back on the same flight with me. (It's been such a blessing having you around, Ai (: company during Elim and YCCF; soccer matches; all that summer-flinging)

Haha, to Rokey, if you're reading this: Sigh, heres wishing you all the best in Oxford. Dont forget those Singlish phrases you learnt; i promise they'll come in handy!

Many last words to say, many thanks left unsaid. A whole room of memories left unpacked. A year's to-do list hardly checked off. And here i am, starting to compile an ambitious list for the next academic year. i've much to change, but yea, bring it on, because i'll be ready to change, to love, to believe, to heal! (:

Crouched.

So if you know me, you'd know i have a thing for names. Shocking, aint it. I suspect this is why i involuntarily snigger whenever Crouch comes on-screen and find him inherently hilarious. Anyway, the World Cup, besides celebrating the Beckham corner kicks and the Brazilian babes' ample bosoms,  is really also a celebration of unfortunate names and painfully common names. 

You know, you'd expect every other dutch guy to be Van der Blah, or the swede to be Tony Eriksson. Korean? Kim Lee Chi. Czech? Szbehcuelaljkl Klemdugjhn. [NB: any name bearing resemblance to an actual name is purely coincidental. For the Czech Mr Klemdugjhn, im sorry, i feel for you.]

So 90 goal-less minutes for the Argentina-Holland game that just ended. Sigh watching a goal-less match is almost like waiting for a punchline that never comes. Or like drinking coffee that is de-caf.  Or like being greeted on a summer day by rain. Or like cycling down to the library, only to be told your key text book is ostensibly available, but is nowhere to be found! Ok, not exactly like the last scenario; i just needed to weave the library book rant in somewhere (:

World Cup season – celebration of 90-minute blocks of communal slacking! I love it; and have given up hope of getting work done today. It's mid of week 8, yo! All I want to do is go walking around in the flaming sun and enjoying more communal slacking, put everything down and haul ass to Wimbledon [not going to happen :x]. Come on, I have two more weeks to do everything I'd imagine an overseas education should provide! Talking about underachievers, guess who does not fall into that category: hint, see that guy with the blown-up crop of hair? Say Ahhhh-n. Jung. Hwang.

They say couples start to look like each other. And, well, i guess the action on field had not been too exciting: goal-less draw for Germany and Poland. England is playing T&T tomorrow; may it be a goal-full match!

aggressively skeptical.

This incontinent outpouring of bitchiness – it's inexplicably hard to restrain! My eyes betray it all, dont it? I would stew in guilt for hours later, wondering why i'd said such a thing deliberately to bring you crashing down, but at that moment, i wanted you to know that you were fallible, that i could tear loopholes into your arguments. i wanted to deny you absolute truth; and at the same time, conceal my envy: why should you be privy to this truth?

And so my eyes would belie a scornful incredulity. the raised eyebrow. and when i run out of words, and patience, perhaps i would accede. with a reluctant nod and a tight smile of studied compliance. Studied, i made sure you knew it was studied.

The behaviour was ugly; im sorry. Perhaps you didnt sense a thing – well, i searched your face, you didnt let on otherwise. Or perhaps you knew i needed to wallow in doubt and ambiguity, simply because i wanted to bring you back to a strictly three-dimensional world, and forfeit anything else you were privy to. because doubt hurts less than envy bites; it was easier to be aggressively skeptical.

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chris: -pounces!- ive always suspected we had an unnatural relationship with these tennis stars; button-ed safin takes this to a whole new level (:
jo: im messaging you about wimbledon!
rokey: gosh! hello (: wah, she wasnt talking about you la. haha, and i remember you being rather involved in the discussion about pickup lines anyway :p and i wanted to comment on your blog, but xanga is being all exclusive and not allowing comments unless i register :x
layne: wha..aat? how could they. oh well -scoff- less crowds thronging orchard is the upside. less indiscriminate spending on my part :p hope the GSS hasnt wrecked too much damage on your purse!