It's Sunday! And Sunday is a typical cabbing day. Today's cab drivers, however, seem a little different.
Accented English and deep, soothing voices aside, the two cab drivers we met today turned out to have had a highly successful career just before switching to their metered cabins.
The first cab driver told us about his actuary daughter and doctor son, and a third kid who happens to be the only one among his brood who can't study. So he says, although the third is a sec 4 boy taking his Os this year at Maris Stella.
Second cab driver shared his analysis of the government's population policies with us. Very perceptively telling us that if the government needs 3-4 years for our salaries to raise by $600, it is no wonder at all that Singaporeans are so unwilling to give birth. Even the cheapest calculators could do the math, and display in all 8 digits, the ineffectiveness of the Baby Bonus.
And second cab driver had seen the world, literally. He said "Where there's an ocean, I'll be there." A couple more bantering and he revealed that he built oil rigs. And that if he was still with the company, they would be the ones taking over BP's mess. I'd assume that the company would also be doing a better job since no one could be doing worse than BP and Tony Hayward.
Then when we got off the cab, mum told me "No matter how much a junk (word used by cabby himself) Singapore is, you still have to return to your roots. That's why he would rather come back here and drive a cab than be out there building oil rigs."
Suddenly everyone around me is very insightful ah.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
If I had $380 million…
Hm…
Move the family to a penthouse in Orchard. I super super heart condo life (and super super miss Eastern Lagoon bleah)! Mandatory condo amenities are swimming pool and gym.
Get two cars. One for dad and one (Volkswagen Beetle oh yeah) for me. Brother will get his when he finally gets a license.
Oh! $100 million goes for investments. $30 million will just be up for grabs by all private bankers interested in my money, and $70 million will go to mum for her annual sales figure, or figures. However she wants to allocate her cases.
$5 million into the bank for my daily expenses. $10 million for household expenses.
The rest into the church.
Hm. Since I’m flipping through the IKEA catalogue now, I might as well throw in a new work table and chair. I need something for my back oof.
Move the family to a penthouse in Orchard. I super super heart condo life (and super super miss Eastern Lagoon bleah)! Mandatory condo amenities are swimming pool and gym.
Get two cars. One for dad and one (Volkswagen Beetle oh yeah) for me. Brother will get his when he finally gets a license.
Oh! $100 million goes for investments. $30 million will just be up for grabs by all private bankers interested in my money, and $70 million will go to mum for her annual sales figure, or figures. However she wants to allocate her cases.
$5 million into the bank for my daily expenses. $10 million for household expenses.
The rest into the church.
Hm. Since I’m flipping through the IKEA catalogue now, I might as well throw in a new work table and chair. I need something for my back oof.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Damn a lot of fire. Absolutely no content.
I'm going to attempt to write a really interesting, humourous, and illogical blog post. Inspired by Jane Berentson's "Miss Harper can do it". Awesome read. For chicks only.
Woke up this morning remembering that I had a huge craving for salad with vinegarette while trying to fall asleep the night before. So I clambered out of bed, washed up, and pulled open the bottom drawer of my house refrigerator.
Carrots.. And other eastern vegetables that couldn't be eaten raw.
Fine. Carrots and vinegarette then.
Splashed one teaspoon of rice vinegar and 3 teaspoon of soya sauce into a small bowl. Taste test. FAIL.
Snooped around again and found a new bottle of salsa.
30 minutes later. New bottle of salsa refuses to open. Fine. Whipped out ketchup bottle and mixed it with soya sauce-vinegar solution. Threw in the carrot sticks and started munching. Finished the carrot sticks and licked the bowl clean. Opened the fridge for a bottle of water and spotted... a half-finished jar of salsa deep in the recesses of the second shelf. FML.
Felt indignant about not eating said jar of salsa. Dug out butter crackers and helped myself to generous servings of salsa on butter crackers. Something about the lingering smell of roasted tomatoes on my fingers made me go back and opened a second pack of three butter crackers.
On hindsight, I think the salsa might have been drugged. As in, spiced with addictive drugs, drugged. Because the taste in my mouth tempted me to go back for more. So I made myself a cup of hm.. cocoa milk; milo plus milk.
And I fell into a deep sleep after that. Milo must have been drugged. Sleep-inducing drugged drugged.
Woke up feeling oh-so-stuffed. Felt my whole body supported and connected by the huge ball of my belly. I must be going through the oral stage of my menstrual cycle.
I'm trying to metamorphorise myself into a dim sum - too much meat, and too little skin - to explain my overstuffed feeling.
And that totally made me feel like going for yum cha.
Should I???
Woke up this morning remembering that I had a huge craving for salad with vinegarette while trying to fall asleep the night before. So I clambered out of bed, washed up, and pulled open the bottom drawer of my house refrigerator.
Carrots.. And other eastern vegetables that couldn't be eaten raw.
Fine. Carrots and vinegarette then.
Splashed one teaspoon of rice vinegar and 3 teaspoon of soya sauce into a small bowl. Taste test. FAIL.
Snooped around again and found a new bottle of salsa.
30 minutes later. New bottle of salsa refuses to open. Fine. Whipped out ketchup bottle and mixed it with soya sauce-vinegar solution. Threw in the carrot sticks and started munching. Finished the carrot sticks and licked the bowl clean. Opened the fridge for a bottle of water and spotted... a half-finished jar of salsa deep in the recesses of the second shelf. FML.
Felt indignant about not eating said jar of salsa. Dug out butter crackers and helped myself to generous servings of salsa on butter crackers. Something about the lingering smell of roasted tomatoes on my fingers made me go back and opened a second pack of three butter crackers.
On hindsight, I think the salsa might have been drugged. As in, spiced with addictive drugs, drugged. Because the taste in my mouth tempted me to go back for more. So I made myself a cup of hm.. cocoa milk; milo plus milk.
And I fell into a deep sleep after that. Milo must have been drugged. Sleep-inducing drugged drugged.
Woke up feeling oh-so-stuffed. Felt my whole body supported and connected by the huge ball of my belly. I must be going through the oral stage of my menstrual cycle.
I'm trying to metamorphorise myself into a dim sum - too much meat, and too little skin - to explain my overstuffed feeling.
And that totally made me feel like going for yum cha.
Should I???
Sunday, June 06, 2010
This trip to Cambodia
I guess it's time I write some reflections for the trip to Cambodia. As a photographer, a team member and in future, a mother.
I guess children are really a reflection of what we treat them as. The kids at UNACAS were given independence and role models to follow. They were also taught skills and the beauty of God's grace. It is not surprising then, that we see independent children in that orphanage who have learnt to give and love each other, and all of whom have a wish to take on responsibilities as they come of age.
In contrast, particularly with the kids at the post-trip CIP, I saw sheltered children who are often given a negative reply for things they do, and good character entails passive submission and obedience to rules set by grown ups.
Rules are still necessary, and passive submission is still needed if they were to know what are the allowable boundaries, but it gets ridiculous when rules are just there for the sake of it. Case in point, why on earth must you cross your hands to show that you've got good posture?? Isn't that BAD BODY LANGUAGE??
Wonder if that woman knows what her spark of genius is teaching her students.
One girl came up to us and told us we shouldn't play a game because too many people were falling down. Her remark brought up flashes of how I was brought up.
My parents often said "No" and "No good" to the things I do. I often rejected other peoples' advice and suggestions in turn. I became a stickler to rules, and till this day I still find remnants of my overly conservative self in my thoughts and actions. But such negating teachings have repercussions beyond a monotonous way of doing things. I found myself to be a grumpy, angry and easily provoked person.
It was probably a mixture of everything, besides parental guidance. My parents weren't spending much time with us, and when they did, it was really to check our spelling grades and sign consent forms. My brother's everything was my responsibility, and the teachers in school weren't particularly encouraging our sense of adventure.
I guess changing from PLMGPS to Rosyth was also a big factor. I remember letting my character spiral into gloominess, failing miserably in both the social and academic expectations departments. My unwillingness to accept change was probably already ingrained in my character. Just that maybe in PLMGPS the environment was friendlier, and it held the bulk of my childhood school memories.
Through this trip, my eyes were opened by how some people always had the team in mind. I remember working on the fence near the playground at UNACAS, and there was about ten minutes of time where the equipment could only allow two or three of us to work. So the rest went to sit around the swings and the benches.
I skipped over to one of us sitting on the swing and offered to push her. She rejected. So I casually asked if she didn't like it. She said it wasn't that, but because we were still working on the fence.
And then I saw how buddies took care of each other by insisting on reporting if the other is sick, but trying to hide it if they themselves were unwell. The reason was only so that they weren't the ones resting while everyone else was working hard.
And of course I saw how the first aider was always willing to dress wounds for other people, and it really inspired me, because I, as the photographer, have found myself too lazy too many times to take out the camera.
It was heartening also for me to see how well the team looked out for me. Photography is a thankless job. People expect us to do it. But really, the offers to carry my equipment, the understanding given to let me scoot off with the camera, and the countless attempts to catch me on camera simply because I am the photographer and hence seldom in photos, have overwhelmed me with thankfulness that I'm in this team. Even if the photographer wasn't me, just knowing that the team is like this makes me feel so proud of us.
Taking on photographic duties again after two years have also re-taught me lessons. I have always told others that the best photographers are not the ones who are most skilful with their equipment. All equipment can be mastered, and everyone's perspectives will be different. But what makes one photographer stand out from another is his or her ability to speak.
This trip to Cambodia has taught me how to open my mouth again. It was good that we had the pre-trip CIP and the fundraising activities before the actual trip. At the very least, it helped me get accustomed to shoving cameras in people's faces again.
And I am really thankful that the children at the pre-trip CIP and in Cambodia are not camera-shy at all. Their willingness to pose and be taken helped bridge the communication barrier far more than what I can say for the camera-shy kids at the post-trip CIP. And to be honest, I find it extremely difficult to show the post-trip CIP kids the same amount of love I had for the pre-trip CIP kids, and of course the UNACAS children. Must it be that only needy children are thankful?
I have learnt much on how a child's upbringing and home environment can shape his or her character. And the way the adult and institution treats the child will be reflected in all transparency in the kid's behavior.
This trip has taught me much. And I am glad that I have gone on this trip only now.
I guess children are really a reflection of what we treat them as. The kids at UNACAS were given independence and role models to follow. They were also taught skills and the beauty of God's grace. It is not surprising then, that we see independent children in that orphanage who have learnt to give and love each other, and all of whom have a wish to take on responsibilities as they come of age.
In contrast, particularly with the kids at the post-trip CIP, I saw sheltered children who are often given a negative reply for things they do, and good character entails passive submission and obedience to rules set by grown ups.
Rules are still necessary, and passive submission is still needed if they were to know what are the allowable boundaries, but it gets ridiculous when rules are just there for the sake of it. Case in point, why on earth must you cross your hands to show that you've got good posture?? Isn't that BAD BODY LANGUAGE??
Wonder if that woman knows what her spark of genius is teaching her students.
One girl came up to us and told us we shouldn't play a game because too many people were falling down. Her remark brought up flashes of how I was brought up.
My parents often said "No" and "No good" to the things I do. I often rejected other peoples' advice and suggestions in turn. I became a stickler to rules, and till this day I still find remnants of my overly conservative self in my thoughts and actions. But such negating teachings have repercussions beyond a monotonous way of doing things. I found myself to be a grumpy, angry and easily provoked person.
It was probably a mixture of everything, besides parental guidance. My parents weren't spending much time with us, and when they did, it was really to check our spelling grades and sign consent forms. My brother's everything was my responsibility, and the teachers in school weren't particularly encouraging our sense of adventure.
I guess changing from PLMGPS to Rosyth was also a big factor. I remember letting my character spiral into gloominess, failing miserably in both the social and academic expectations departments. My unwillingness to accept change was probably already ingrained in my character. Just that maybe in PLMGPS the environment was friendlier, and it held the bulk of my childhood school memories.
Through this trip, my eyes were opened by how some people always had the team in mind. I remember working on the fence near the playground at UNACAS, and there was about ten minutes of time where the equipment could only allow two or three of us to work. So the rest went to sit around the swings and the benches.
I skipped over to one of us sitting on the swing and offered to push her. She rejected. So I casually asked if she didn't like it. She said it wasn't that, but because we were still working on the fence.
And then I saw how buddies took care of each other by insisting on reporting if the other is sick, but trying to hide it if they themselves were unwell. The reason was only so that they weren't the ones resting while everyone else was working hard.
And of course I saw how the first aider was always willing to dress wounds for other people, and it really inspired me, because I, as the photographer, have found myself too lazy too many times to take out the camera.
It was heartening also for me to see how well the team looked out for me. Photography is a thankless job. People expect us to do it. But really, the offers to carry my equipment, the understanding given to let me scoot off with the camera, and the countless attempts to catch me on camera simply because I am the photographer and hence seldom in photos, have overwhelmed me with thankfulness that I'm in this team. Even if the photographer wasn't me, just knowing that the team is like this makes me feel so proud of us.
Taking on photographic duties again after two years have also re-taught me lessons. I have always told others that the best photographers are not the ones who are most skilful with their equipment. All equipment can be mastered, and everyone's perspectives will be different. But what makes one photographer stand out from another is his or her ability to speak.
This trip to Cambodia has taught me how to open my mouth again. It was good that we had the pre-trip CIP and the fundraising activities before the actual trip. At the very least, it helped me get accustomed to shoving cameras in people's faces again.
And I am really thankful that the children at the pre-trip CIP and in Cambodia are not camera-shy at all. Their willingness to pose and be taken helped bridge the communication barrier far more than what I can say for the camera-shy kids at the post-trip CIP. And to be honest, I find it extremely difficult to show the post-trip CIP kids the same amount of love I had for the pre-trip CIP kids, and of course the UNACAS children. Must it be that only needy children are thankful?
I have learnt much on how a child's upbringing and home environment can shape his or her character. And the way the adult and institution treats the child will be reflected in all transparency in the kid's behavior.
This trip has taught me much. And I am glad that I have gone on this trip only now.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Let 25 people stay together
Father,
It was my prayer on our last Sunday in Cambodia that 25 of us would return together. That remains my prayer today.
Let all transgressions be forgotten. Let forgiveness flow in our hearts. Let Your hand be on the team and guide us to do what You have set us out to do.
Father it is my prayer that there will be a meeting once more with all 25 of us present, and joy and laughter only fill the air. I pray for all of us to be at peace and put You before ourselves at all times. I pray that each of us will fulfill our roles to Your contentment, and that the results will be visible to all men, believer or not.
I pray that those who have just begun to see the loveliness of Your grace continue to open their eyes and one day take the prayer that wil lbring them to salvation.
Father I pray that wherever and whenever the 25 of us meet on this earth, our final meeting place will be with the UNACAS kids and You in heaven.
Father Your will brought us together. I pray that Your Spirit will continue to keep us together.
In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.
It was my prayer on our last Sunday in Cambodia that 25 of us would return together. That remains my prayer today.
Let all transgressions be forgotten. Let forgiveness flow in our hearts. Let Your hand be on the team and guide us to do what You have set us out to do.
Father it is my prayer that there will be a meeting once more with all 25 of us present, and joy and laughter only fill the air. I pray for all of us to be at peace and put You before ourselves at all times. I pray that each of us will fulfill our roles to Your contentment, and that the results will be visible to all men, believer or not.
I pray that those who have just begun to see the loveliness of Your grace continue to open their eyes and one day take the prayer that wil lbring them to salvation.
Father I pray that wherever and whenever the 25 of us meet on this earth, our final meeting place will be with the UNACAS kids and You in heaven.
Father Your will brought us together. I pray that Your Spirit will continue to keep us together.
In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I love you.
Awesome. Second and last paper is over. Helloooooooo freedom!
In the meantime, haha darling, you still need to work hard on those textbooks. Just clench your teeth and mug through it. Your last exam will be over before you know it.
And I believe that you will achieve all that you have set out to do. I believe in you, I believe in our Lord Jesus that you will walk into the exam hall overflowing with wisdom and blessings.
Jiayou, darling!
I love you :)
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Don't Work. Be Hated. Love Someone.
-----Written by Adrian Tan, author of The Teenage Textbook (1988), was the guest-of-honour at a recent NTU convocation ceremony. This was his speech to the graduating class of 2008.----
I must say thank you to the faculty and staff of the Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information for inviting me to give your convocation address. It’s a wonderful honour and a privilege for me to speak here for ten minutes without fear of contradiction, defamation or retaliation. I say this as a Singaporean and more so as a husband.
My wife is a wonderful person and perfect in every way except one. She is the editor of a magazine. She corrects people for a living. She has honed her expert skills over a quarter of a century, mostly by practising at home during conversations between her and me.
On the other hand, I am a litigator. Essentially, I spend my day telling people how wrong they are. I make my living being disagreeable.
Nevertheless, there is perfect harmony in our matrimonial home. That is because when an editor and a litigator have an argument, the one who triumphs is always the wife.
And so I want to start by giving one piece of advice to the men: when you’ve already won her heart, you don’t need to win every argument.
Marriage is considered one milestone of life. Some of you may already be married. Some of you may never be married. Some of you will be married. Some of you will enjoy the experience so much, you will be married many, many times. Good for you.
The next big milestone in your life is today: your graduation. The end of education. You’re done learning.
You’ve probably been told the big lie that “Learning is a lifelong process” and that therefore you will continue studying and taking masters’ degrees and doctorates and professorships and so on. You know the sort of people who tell you that? Teachers. Don’t you think there is some measure of conflict of interest? They are in the business of learning, after all. Where would they be without you? They need you to be repeat customers.
The good news is that they’re wrong.
The bad news is that you don’t need further education because your entire life is over. It is gone. That may come as a shock to some of you. You’re in your teens or early twenties. People may tell you that you will live to be 70, 80, 90 years old. That is your life expectancy.
I love that term: life expectancy. We all understand the term to mean the average life span of a group of people. But I’m here to talk about a bigger idea, which is what you expect from your life.
You may be very happy to know that Singapore is currently ranked as the country with the third highest life expectancy. We are behind Andorra and Japan, and tied with San Marino. It seems quite clear why people in those countries, and ours, live so long. We share one thing in common: our football teams are all hopeless. There’s very little danger of any of our citizens having their pulses raised by watching us play in the World Cup. Spectators are more likely to be lulled into a gentle and restful nap.
Singaporeans have a life expectancy of 81.8 years. Singapore men live to an average of 79.21 years, while Singapore women live more than five years longer, probably to take into account the additional time they need to spend in the bathroom.
So here you are, in your twenties, thinking that you’ll have another 40 years to go. Four decades in which to live long and prosper.
Bad news. Read the papers. There are people dropping dead when they’re 50, 40, 30 years old. Or quite possibly just after finishing their convocation. They would be very disappointed that they didn’t meet their life expectancy.
I’m here to tell you this. Forget about your life expectancy.
After all, it’s calculated based on an average. And you never, ever want to expect being average.
Revisit those expectations. You might be looking forward to working, falling in love, marrying, raising a family. You are told that, as graduates, you should expect to find a job paying so much, where your hours are so much, where your responsibilities are so much.
That is what is expected of you. And if you live up to it, it will be an awful waste.
If you expect that, you will be limiting yourself. You will be living your life according to boundaries set by average people. I have nothing against average people. But no one should aspire to be them. And you don’t need years of education by the best minds in Singapore to prepare you to be average.
LIFE'S A MESS
What you should prepare for is mess. Life’s a mess. You are not entitled to expect anything from it. Life is not fair. Everything does not balance out in the end. Life happens, and you have no control over it. Good and bad things happen to you day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. Your degree is a poor armour against fate.
Don’t expect anything. Erase all life expectancies. Just live. Your life is over as of today. At this point in time, you have grown as tall as you will ever be, you are physically the fittest you will ever be in your entire life and you are probably looking the best that you will ever look. This is as good as it gets. It is all downhill from here. Or up. No one knows.
What does this mean for you? It is good that your life is over.
Since your life is over, you are free. Let me tell you the many wonderful things that you can do when you are free.
RESIST THE TEMPTATION TO GET A JOB. INSTEAD, PLAY.
The most important is this: do not work.
Work is anything that you are compelled to do. By its very nature, it is undesirable.
Work kills. The Japanese have a term “Karoshi”, which means death from overwork. That’s the most dramatic form of how work can kill. But it can also kill you in more subtle ways. If you work, then day by day, bit by bit, your soul is chipped away, disintegrating until there’s nothing left. A rock has been ground into sand and dust.
There’s a common misconception that work is necessary. You will meet people working at miserable jobs. They tell you they are “making a living”. No, they’re not. They’re dying, frittering away their fast-extinguishing lives doing things which are, at best, meaningless and, at worst, harmful.
People will tell you that work ennobles you, that work lends you a certain dignity. Work makes you free. The slogan “Arbeit macht frei” was placed at the entrances to a number of Nazi concentration camps. Utter nonsense.
Do not waste the vast majority of your life doing something you hate so that you can spend the small remainder sliver of your life in modest comfort. You may never reach that end anyway.
Resist the temptation to get a job. Instead, play. Find something you enjoy doing. Do it. Over and over again. You will become good at it for two reasons: you like it, and you do it often. Soon, that will have value in itself.
I like arguing, and I love language. So, I became a litigator. I enjoy it and I would do it for free. If I didn’t do that, I would’ve been in some other type of work that still involved writing fiction – probably a sports journalist.
So what should you do? You will find your own niche. I don’t imagine you will need to look very hard. By this time in your life, you will have a very good idea of what you will want to do. In fact, I’ll go further and say the ideal situation would be that you will not be able to stop yourself pursuing your passions. By this time you should know what your obsessions are. If you enjoy showing off your knowledge and feeling superior, you might become a teacher.
Find that pursuit that will energise you, consume you, become an obsession. Each day, you must rise with a restless enthusiasm. If you don’t, you are working.
Most of you will end up in activities which involve communication. To those of you I have a second message: be wary of the truth. I’m not asking you to speak it, or write it, for there are times when it is dangerous or impossible to do those things. The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence.
In order to be wary of the truth, you must first know it. That requires great frankness to yourself. Never fool the person in the mirror.
I have told you that your life is over, that you should not work, and that you should avoid telling the truth. I now say this to you: be hated.
It’s not as easy as it sounds. Do you know anyone who hates you? Yet every great figure who has contributed to the human race has been hated, not just by one person, but often by a great many. That hatred is so strong it has caused those great figures to be shunned, abused, murdered and in one famous instance, nailed to a cross.
One does not have to be evil to be hated. In fact, it’s often the case that one is hated precisely because one is trying to do right by one’s own convictions. It is far too easy to be liked, one merely has to be accommodating and hold no strong convictions. Then one will gravitate towards the centre and settle into the average. That cannot be your role. There are a great many bad people in the world, and if you are not offending them, you must be bad yourself. Popularity is a sure sign that you are doing something wrong.
The other side of the coin is this: fall in love.
I didn’t say “be loved”. That requires too much compromise. If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.
Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable.
Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the truth worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.
Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.
You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.
You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you.
Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.
Don’t work. Avoid telling the truth. Be hated. Love someone.
Damn friggin' cool.
Monday, April 26, 2010
I love you.
Wow the first day of exams is over le! And I'm done with half of my papers hahaha. But ok la.
CONCENTRATE ON YOUR TEXTBOOKS/NOTES/WEBCASTS/WHATHAVEYOUNOT!!!
Pray. Then study study study!
I am sure that you will achieve everything that you want to, and your grades will be better than what you thought you would get.
With such a mighty God, who can do anything less than perfect through him? ;)
Jiayou jiayou!!
And, I love you :)
CONCENTRATE ON YOUR TEXTBOOKS/NOTES/WEBCASTS/WHATHAVEYOUNOT!!!
Pray. Then study study study!
I am sure that you will achieve everything that you want to, and your grades will be better than what you thought you would get.
With such a mighty God, who can do anything less than perfect through him? ;)
Jiayou jiayou!!
And, I love you :)
The most awesome mother ever
Sitting at one of the Starbucks in Suntec, trying to get some readings into my head, with this Caucasian family at the table next to mine.
Big tall daddy and two beautiful daughters. Mum buying coffee at the counter.
Elder daughter was playing with baby sister when suddenly baby sister fell with a loud thud. Dad got really angry and shouted "This is the last. time. you lift Layla!" Big girl returned with a look saying she knew she was in trouble but wasn't sure why.
Mum at the counter just turns around like everyone else in the shop then goes back to queueing for her coffee.
Dad picks baby sister up and kissed and cuddled her while she screamed her lungs out. Elder sister sat by the side stunned by the racket. "Do NOT pick Layla up." Dad repeated.
Mum collects coffee and walks over to the table, speaking in a low voice to dad in a long string of Spanish. She carries screaming baby and starts humming to her while squatting near the table so big girl could come over and sayang her baby sister.
Screaming baby immediately quietens down and dad picks big girl up and talks to her softly while mum cuddles baby to sleep. Both parents kiss the elder sister while talking to her.
I don't know what the Spanish meant but I'd like to think it was along the lines of "Don't frighten the girls. Come, let me carry Layla."
If only my parents were like that
Big tall daddy and two beautiful daughters. Mum buying coffee at the counter.
Elder daughter was playing with baby sister when suddenly baby sister fell with a loud thud. Dad got really angry and shouted "This is the last. time. you lift Layla!" Big girl returned with a look saying she knew she was in trouble but wasn't sure why.
Mum at the counter just turns around like everyone else in the shop then goes back to queueing for her coffee.
Dad picks baby sister up and kissed and cuddled her while she screamed her lungs out. Elder sister sat by the side stunned by the racket. "Do NOT pick Layla up." Dad repeated.
Mum collects coffee and walks over to the table, speaking in a low voice to dad in a long string of Spanish. She carries screaming baby and starts humming to her while squatting near the table so big girl could come over and sayang her baby sister.
Screaming baby immediately quietens down and dad picks big girl up and talks to her softly while mum cuddles baby to sleep. Both parents kiss the elder sister while talking to her.
I don't know what the Spanish meant but I'd like to think it was along the lines of "Don't frighten the girls. Come, let me carry Layla."
If only my parents were like that
Friday, April 23, 2010
I love you.
Hello Darling,
How have you been? How many days has it been? I miss you terribly.
That night, I told you everything because I didn't want to keep anything from you. I want you to be my boyfriend and my best friend; the first person I think of no matter what happens, the last person I'd stop loving whatever it is.
I don't know how to tell you how much you mean to me, or prove in any way how you can trust me. I can't explain very clearly why I did what I did back then - it is a memory I have chosen to seal off. Re-opened it only to let you know what I think you should know.
I am very happy that there is nothing else I am hiding from you, but sad that your heart should ache over me.
You are the only one in my eyes and I cannot emphasise that enough. No one else can take me away from you, no one else matters to me anymore.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
But I don't know how else to tell you that. I love you.
How have you been? How many days has it been? I miss you terribly.
That night, I told you everything because I didn't want to keep anything from you. I want you to be my boyfriend and my best friend; the first person I think of no matter what happens, the last person I'd stop loving whatever it is.
I don't know how to tell you how much you mean to me, or prove in any way how you can trust me. I can't explain very clearly why I did what I did back then - it is a memory I have chosen to seal off. Re-opened it only to let you know what I think you should know.
I am very happy that there is nothing else I am hiding from you, but sad that your heart should ache over me.
You are the only one in my eyes and I cannot emphasise that enough. No one else can take me away from you, no one else matters to me anymore.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
But I don't know how else to tell you that. I love you.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
I love you.
He seems to be the first thing on my mind every morning. That night by the river, that evening with the roses, that dinner and the many days before. I can't forget his tears, his smile, his eyes, his touch, his sincerity. He has taken over me entirely.
This is the third day I can't tell him how much I love him.
This is the third day I can't tell him how much I love him.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
I love you.
His face showed up in my dreams again.
Today is the second day I can't tell him how much I love him.
Let me just say what I want to tell him here.
Good morning, let's jiayou together for exams!
Thank you for coming into my life. I love you.
Wake up wake up! It's the afternoon already.
Stop slacking! Go study..
I love you.
Today is the second day I can't tell him how much I love him.
Let me just say what I want to tell him here.
Good morning, let's jiayou together for exams!
Thank you for coming into my life. I love you.
Wake up wake up! It's the afternoon already.
Stop slacking! Go study..
I love you.
Monday, April 19, 2010
I love you.
I am fast losing my mind. His face shows up in every thought I have, his words and his reassurance constantly floating into my consciousness. I have entirely lost the coolness I thought I would have.
The knife in me got pushed in deeper. I saw our lost connection clear as day.
This is only the first day I can't tell him how much I love him.
The knife in me got pushed in deeper. I saw our lost connection clear as day.
This is only the first day I can't tell him how much I love him.
I love you
I never thought I could want so much to be with someone. I woke up smelling whiffs of his scent, feeling the touch of his absent hand, missing the tightness of his hug.
Today is the first day I can't tell him how much I love him.
Today is the first day I can't tell him how much I love him.
I love you.
If I could do it all over again, I would still make the same choices. But I wish I knew how to ease his pain.
I am very surprised how I didn't feel much when the names came in; me with my ugly eyes, useless assistant leader, always talking nonsense, stupid bitch, cheap slut.. I don't like it. Teared when slut came out the first time. But I only wish I knew how to wipe away his tears.
The world is celebrating for me now. And I don't know how to tell them that I am on the brink of losing the love of my life.
But I'm not panicking. I'm not afraid. I don't have hopes. I don't know what will happen. But I'm not scared. I know, very clearly, that all I want is to be able to continue loving him.
Sitting there by the river, looking at the two cockroaches feeding, amazed at how I wasn't inclined to leave at all, I just felt that it didn't matter anymore. Didn't matter what our path will be from now onwards. As long as I could continue loving him.
I really dreaded asking him if he wanted a break, because I was beyond afraid he would take it. But I knew it had to come when he asked me that last question.
My past is my past is my past. I am not proud of it, but I am not ashamed of it. I have done things to betray myself, but I've come out of it, and I am the same as I was before I got attached in JC.
I really wish I can brush it off and be the carefree person I want to be. But I find myself totally paralysed with him. I am afraid when he says he's turned off, afraid when he face suddenly turns serious, afraid when he looks down and stays silent, afraid that everytime we meet it would be the last time ever.
I know this time round there is no more "what ifs!". He won't.
I have never been so hesitant in telling my friends about this person who was chasing me, or got so frustrated trying to find answers, or been so fucking indecisive whether or not to trust this person and take the leap of faith.
But his eyes convinced me.
He would be my choice if all the most eligible bachelors in the world were after me, and he would be my choice if not one single living thing gave a shit about me.
I've fallen in deep, and I can't be bothered to climb out.
I just want to continue loving him.
He gave me courage, but I broke his self-esteem.
Now I just want to know how I can help him build it back again.
I am very surprised how I didn't feel much when the names came in; me with my ugly eyes, useless assistant leader, always talking nonsense, stupid bitch, cheap slut.. I don't like it. Teared when slut came out the first time. But I only wish I knew how to wipe away his tears.
The world is celebrating for me now. And I don't know how to tell them that I am on the brink of losing the love of my life.
But I'm not panicking. I'm not afraid. I don't have hopes. I don't know what will happen. But I'm not scared. I know, very clearly, that all I want is to be able to continue loving him.
Sitting there by the river, looking at the two cockroaches feeding, amazed at how I wasn't inclined to leave at all, I just felt that it didn't matter anymore. Didn't matter what our path will be from now onwards. As long as I could continue loving him.
I really dreaded asking him if he wanted a break, because I was beyond afraid he would take it. But I knew it had to come when he asked me that last question.
My past is my past is my past. I am not proud of it, but I am not ashamed of it. I have done things to betray myself, but I've come out of it, and I am the same as I was before I got attached in JC.
I really wish I can brush it off and be the carefree person I want to be. But I find myself totally paralysed with him. I am afraid when he says he's turned off, afraid when he face suddenly turns serious, afraid when he looks down and stays silent, afraid that everytime we meet it would be the last time ever.
I know this time round there is no more "what ifs!". He won't.
I have never been so hesitant in telling my friends about this person who was chasing me, or got so frustrated trying to find answers, or been so fucking indecisive whether or not to trust this person and take the leap of faith.
But his eyes convinced me.
He would be my choice if all the most eligible bachelors in the world were after me, and he would be my choice if not one single living thing gave a shit about me.
I've fallen in deep, and I can't be bothered to climb out.
I just want to continue loving him.
He gave me courage, but I broke his self-esteem.
Now I just want to know how I can help him build it back again.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
koini ochite
I've fallen too deeply in and I know it. It's a ridiculous mixture of security and apprehension. I want to do so many things and I can't wait. But what if! Again..
I wished the scars from three years ago had disappeared. I wished the fears would go away.
I was so moved when the sms came in, and felt so strongly to just follow the urge and reply. Simply. But what if.. again..
I hate you. I hate myself. I hate the coward in me.
I just want to be brave again.
I wished the scars from three years ago had disappeared. I wished the fears would go away.
I was so moved when the sms came in, and felt so strongly to just follow the urge and reply. Simply. But what if.. again..
I hate you. I hate myself. I hate the coward in me.
I just want to be brave again.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Nostalgia again.
I was walking the corridors of a hall today. Smelled the same air-freshener, and the same room purifier. The location was Temasek Hall, but it brought me back straight to Sheares Hall. Sheares Hall, level 4 to be exact.
I miss walking down the corridor and saying hi to anyone's door which is opened. I miss shouting out to my neighbours my safe arrival back to my room. I miss the smells and sounds of a lazy afternoon in hall.
My dreams of running away have returned.
I miss walking down the corridor and saying hi to anyone's door which is opened. I miss shouting out to my neighbours my safe arrival back to my room. I miss the smells and sounds of a lazy afternoon in hall.
My dreams of running away have returned.
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