Saturday, November 27
The very first time I teared in a hair salon.
What an utter embarrasment.
It was caused by a myriad of reasons -
1. Shocked by the missing 4 inches worth of hair that was supposed to be there.
2. Shocked, yet again, by the nonexistent colour on my seemingly-black hair.
[It didn't help that they made me feel like the emperor in The Emperor and His New Clothes.]
3. Rendered immobile by a searing pain.
4. Rendered immobile and speechless by another piercing pain.
5. A low threshold of pain on my part? [I don't think so]
There you have it.
If you were in my shoes, you would have bawled out loud.
What a salon.
The saving consolation lies with their offer of a towel to wipe my tears away.
That was very nice of them, really.
After so much description of my humiliating moment,
I should reveal, my hair's a l'il like Edna Mode now.
Without the specs, tho' [not disappointed, are you?]
I am leaving for camp tomorrow.
I have yet to pack.
Another semi-haitus.
Watch this space.
Till then.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:36 PM
Friday, November 26
Most are not bred rude.
They merely adopted shoddiness.
A mask woven from vulgarity and other [poorly] imitated trends.
Most.
This is what I choose to believe.
Alas, it is but a shoddy attempt in itself to 'fit-in-da-crowd' or grab attention.
It seems now that the distinction between the two has been blurred by the want to be
U . n i q u e l y y o . U
Everyone wants to be unique, original and different,
nobody is anymore.
Everyone craves attention, even to the extent of being imperfect,
nobody cares to strive for perfection anymore.
Everyone thinks perfection a silly unreality,
nobody is real anymore.
I know.
I have dwelt too much upon human obsession with imperfection.
This hypothesis returns to haunt me every night.
Why else can I explain the pride in depression complexes, anorexic patients and attitude problems?
The list is inexhaustible.
Flaws earn you the attention one hankers after so.
In a very wrong manner, I must say.
I'm tired of the way this society works.
I'm tired of the way I see this world.
I'm tired of being a woman.
I'm tired of being human.
Rest assured I'm not spiralling into depression [definitely not after I just mentioned it!]
I'm shining with hope from God,
simply because He promised to never let me go.
Afterall,
I'll cease the grumbling after He takes me home.
I'll be perfect in Him.
Enough of Debbeeeology infusions (!)
I did Christmas shopping [very therapeutic] and am very pleased with myself.
Special people deserve special things that requires special effort!
OH.
But I clean forgot about Oikos' Secret Pal's gift.
One day to come up with something nice and meaningful.
I don't want to start school,
pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaase don't let it start so soooooooooooon.
Yes, I am contradictory.
I realised the upcoming semester may be bedlam.
And it's not just the timetable.
I need to breathe.
In any case,
The Incredibles was really incredibly uproarious.
I laughed till my head throbbed.
Caught it on Tuesday with Yvonne,
but didn't have a chance to blog something on it.
And sheesh, guess what?
Yvonne commented wryly that I looked like Edna Mode.
Or perhaps it was the other way round.
Now, here's a picture of lovely 'E'
AMPLIFIED
Yes, yes.
I admit I used to wear specs like hers.
Look, she audaciously copied my style, okay?
Those were my signature specs.
Phooey.
I can't seem to do the signature 'Felix! Wah! Shiok ah!' hand gesture as well, without the specs.
What with the youth camp coming and all,
I reminisce about the previous camp when my sleek gestures confounded the rest.
Ha, ha!
But the camp is going to be deadly different without her around now.
The sole saving consolation is her mission trip to Shang-ri La.
Even though I can't be a mission tripper, I can be a sender and bless her in more ways than one.
So, who's kind enough to bless her financially and spiritually?
I think going to Shang-ri La is just so damn cool.
I'm not just referring to the weather, of course.
It'll be way cooooooooooooler than just cool.
Aiiight, here's one last one for you. [Boy, does she look like me!]
Oh, and I promise to get my wishlist up here soon.
Come, Santa!
Come, all you generous souls!
[After which, will be the gruelling New Year's Resolutions.]
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:48 AM
Thursday, November 25
I never quite got around to working,
since I was home nursing my health most of the time.
And I feel bad.
But you see, I've been plagued by
- raging fever
- headaches [special killer]
- nausea
- red splotches [getting fainter]
and now, I'm left with one good ear [the other has been blocked since my nose clogged].
I do like working there,
the only concern I have is regarding their freezing temperatures.
It kind of worsens my condition.
Still praying to get well-well.
I never quite got 'round to blogging serious stuff, either.
All I do each day is translate my daily woes into incessant ramblings.
Even the little poems written or narratives spun is overcast with my gloom.
"I want to be happy, I need to be happy, I must be happy!"
- Debbeeeology, since 1986
Oikos chalet is coming [1 day],
Youth camp is coming [3 days],
Semester is starting [10 days],
Christmas is nearing [too soon, much too soon].
I'm getting ready for work now, ready to brave the Antartic temperatures.
Maybe I'll find the courage and determination to shift myself out of this blog.
It is an open wound.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:32 AM
Tuesday, November 23
A whole world of difference Yvonne made in my life.
Today was dedicated in celebration for her new-found freedom from the merciless clutches of Cambridge.
Even if merely transitory, since she has decided to follow the JC route.
I'm truly happy, because she has come a long way to discover what Life has in store for her.
From her academic pursuits, to her destiny in God's will;
from her interpersonal relationships, to finding herself amidst all obstacles.
As I witnessed her shedding of former skins,
she walked me through my traumatic years, too.
It was a struggle in which we pulled each other through,
with God holding us in the palm of His hand.
We weren't the kind of friends who hit off with each other right away.
As the Chinese saying goes,
"Bu da bu xiang shi."
- Acquaintance starts from misunderstandings.
Perhaps it was because I was a year older,
or maybe the fact she was Benjamin and Vincent Koh's cousin.
Could it be my antisocial nature?
I never knew,
but it was a trifle tough time for her, then.
We were all growing up and clamouring for acceptance, in one way or another.
It just happens that we were left to our own devices and each chose different methods.
Many incidents occurred in between, but the Mind chooses to phase out unpleasant memories and fixate the beautiful ones in eternity.
Then we were both in Ben Koh's oikos.
We had alot of fun, then.
I suppose that was the beginning of our interaction.
Time has blurred the distinction between different stages in Life,
but what matters is the result, really.
It did help that we were both pretty close to Alisa, then Jacq at that time.
The many occasions we shopped with Alisa, since we all lived in the same vincinity;
the nights spent in Jacq's house chatting till the wee hours.
We went a full circle to form steel bonds with each other, regrettably.
But better late than never.
Days were bitter as we entered our own share of problems.
Say, we really did exercise out tear-ducts!
She had her interpersonal lessons, whilst I suffered an identity-crisis.
We stumbled, yet we never did give up in the race to meet Him at the finish line.
I must say she calls for much credit, in sustaining my sanity and belief.
In turn, I offered all I was worth as a friend, tho' not very much but still passable.
We never attempted to probe or insist,
but were two thinking individuals with two different mindsets and perceptions.
People would have thought we influenced each other,
but we learnt from one another, in the very essence of the word.
There was never questioning of right or wrong between us,
only readily-available advice and freedom of opinions.
I disliked her preference, she thought me weird;
She endured my indecisiveness, I gaped at her departure.
Yet, never right or wrong.
I liked that.
We proved we weren't siamese twins.
We proved our bonds, over and beyond the boundaries of church compounds or timeframe of services.
We proved friendship worthy of Life.
One can't really tell when acquaintanceship ended and friendship began.
Precious few have the opportunity to encounter the budding transition.
Only when the blooms gather to a peak in the twilight,
will you astound at the blessing He showered upon you.
Mine came in the form of a true friend, and I hope to be the same to her.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:42 PM
Monday, November 22
A palette of muted grays and icy blues, colouring my days.
Painting perfect pictures of
depression and desperation and distress.
The silence that deafens, yielding me to a wheedling of no one.
You call it polished pink paranoia,
I prefer matted maroon metaphysics, no less .
I let slip the seconds to incessant questioning,
question marks jumping higher and higher?
'Twas nausea within my being?
Could the waning white weeds of doubt uproot on their own accord,
Life be the epitome of
luxury and licentiousness and lust.
We chorus in expectation,
only to realize the withering of our souls.
Our eyes spat tears the taste of red ruby rust.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:26 PM
Sunday, November 21
d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:39 PM
I intended today for doing my hair at the hair-dresser's.
Too bad I fell ill.
Way too often, I must say.
I need to get started on some health trick.
I heard ACV is good,
so any tips, Em?
Or perhaps,
I ought to just stop the chocolates.
It has been long since I rose really early for sunday service,
and today's sermon was very relevant.
"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into
our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given to us."
- Romans 5:5
Just a word reassures my heart.
So, I'll hope on in faith and trust.
It won't be easy, the road will be fraught full of trials,
but the very prospect of seeing Him at the end of the race entices.
Have I ever mentioned how much I love the last stanza of the hymn, Amazing Grace?
Though very few people like to sing the last verse,
I think it's the most promising picture ever painted in a christian song, or hymn for that matter.
`When we've been there
ten thousand years
`Bright shining as the sun
`We've no less days
to sing God's praise
than when we've first begun
Sing all day, we'll sing all day long. Over and Over again.
I don't like to watch those charity fund-raising gala shows on teevee.
They often tend to over-dramatize the pitiful details and invoke feelings of guilt and will the audience that they ought to show sympathy in the form of incessant calls/sms-es.
I do not suppose showcasing the less fortunate on national television an issue to be celebrated.
It's likened to watching animals in a zoo, and I definitely do not think it appropriate.
Kindness can be evident on a daily basis,
no matter where and who you are.
There is not much of a point in donating tens of thousands,
if one goes around doing evil by day.
Sins are not nullified by good works,
nor is bad karma by guilt-induced charity.
I have such lovely nephews and nieces,
my cousins' kids they are.
Bubbly and jumpy, shy and smily -
I look foward to each family gathering because of 'em.
Now, I'm waiting for my sister to have a child of her own,
so I can terrorise him/her all day long.
Ha, ha!
Kids are such bundles of joy.
Their innocence and cheer infect,
so why would anyone rather pesky pets when there are children in this world,
waiting for you and I to dote on 'em?
Animals are just not associated with debbeee, eh?
I caught Yesterday, Once More on VCD.
I think all the shows starring Sammi Cheng have been exhausted by me.
It was a very bitter show, though.
Precisely why I liked it, eh?
I still haven't watched Bride and Prejudice.
I'm still waiting for The Manager to come back and fulfill her promise LAH.
You, too, BeBe.
I refuse to believe they rated 5x2 R21.
This means I can't watch the show.
Now, think.
If School for Seduction is M18, why should 5x2 be R21?
Utmost injustice.
Gossip destroys quicker than a raging fire.
The tongue is my greatest weapon,
but I shan't misuse it.
GoAway, all ya rumour mills.
Meanwhile,
I'll master the art of patience.
OH, d'you know F.I.R is really good?
Faye can sing live THAT well.
Their harmonization is beautiful.
I am impressed.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:29 PM
Saturday, November 20
I have a nasty habit of redirecting my swaying emotions on innocent people.
Innocent people, like my Mum.
Innocent people, like real good friends.
It's all in the timing, really.
An unexpected turn of events leave me spurned, upset, disappointed or even transitorily mad.
Under such circumstances,
I'd rather be left alone to ponder and settle the internal strife.
Then, comes along a person who doesn't know any better and... ...
remorse adds onto the truckful of guilt and all emotions amazingly negative.
Ah well, she deserves my deepest apologies.
I need to think of ways to make it up to my Mum.
After having had that moment of enlightenment with myself and God, that is.
My timetable for the next semester is a major Down-With-Debbeee plan in action.
'Tis insane. Totally insane.
I'm slowly devolving into the kvetch I once used to be.
This will not do, nobody likes a kvetch.
I must not slip away into the murky depths of self-complaints and jadedness.
(even if Mondays are officially blues days.)
I must still say this - I don't like the sound of Web Design.
It sounds sinisterly similar to Choy's module.
Christmas approaches at an alarming rate.
I am still not in the festive mood.
It's awfully difficult to when you know THE month is going to be spent wallowing in a deluge of projects and assignments, all bent on driving you insane.
Lovely.
Time to start my letter to Santa, shopping lists and recipe compilations.
Ha, ha!
The Polar Express must not be missed.
It's such a heartening storyline - will you B E L I E V E ?
The music is such a tinkling fantasy, melting your cynism and unbelief.
I have a sudden urge to go somewhere now,
so I'll leave it at this.
The world seems extremely beautiful to-day.
Cold air between the swaying trees,
Warm blood in my heart.
- Debbeeeology, since 1986
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:44 AM
Thursday, November 18
O s-p-l-e-n-d-i-d day.
A small blessing,
sweetens my otherwise sullen day.
An exchange of simple, mandatory greetings.
The polite probings and then,
the scurrying of flighty steps on my part.
Will of steel in play,
"I musn't turn back and look."
All when I am looking my worst.
How lovely.
I'm quite tired of hearing about precious nails.
Finger-nails.
Precious fingernails with polish that is getting scratched/scraped/spoilt otherwise.
I'm tired of getting barely-there grade(s),
even if it's only singular.
I'm tired of getting admonished [an understatement] for them, too.
Christmas fills the air at Harbourfront Centre.
This reminds me to get started on the gifts and cards.
Very soon, new year resolutions will be fresh from the oven of a mind, again.
Too soon, too soon.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 9:12 PM
Wednesday, November 17
Ha, ha!
Someone is a l'il less than happy,
to be "getting a fraction of his [Mr. Brown's] pageviews" on the following basis:
"... My blog has been around longer than his,
has more posts, and I would argue,
a little more "intelligent" posts..."
Does readership matter so much, really?
Well, I know to much f(l)amed Xiaxue, it does.
Even though her grammer isn't flawless,
her grasp of Singlish and local colloquailisms wins her audience.
I get a cheap laugh off her blog, too.
Meanwhile, another one to entertain me till semester starts.
The very fact she/he is from Ngee Ann is greatly intriguing -
the very person who just slipped and fell at Canteen 1 may be the faceless blogger.
When You Know.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:59 PM
"BYEbye! BYEbye!"
I cannot bear to hear parents yelling these words,
in a gleeful effort to see their kid(s) bawling in helpless self-defence and plea.
Commodity jest at the expense of precious, innocent tears is not funny
a t a l l .
When I was younger, I possessed an inane fear of being left behind -
be it accidental negligence, sadistic humour or intended cruelty.
You may laugh now, but it was a big thing to me, then.
During grocery shopping trips, usually to Sheng Siong,
I'm put charge of the bags of goodies in a corner.
I distinctly recall waiting outside the medical hall just next door,
literally being seized by dread and allowing panic to propel my imagination.
My worst nightmare being left to wait there forever,
ladened with bulging bags of goodies,
tears brimming in my widened eyes.
Likened to a giraffe, I'd crane my neck to witness their return,
just so that my mind could be spared another second's agony.
God is quick to prove my paranoia wrong.
As I progressed to greater heights in mental visualization
(but not in intellectual maturity),
I formulated almost-credible situations in which I could be left behind.
Plans were devised in case my fears materialized,
and fresh fears arose to conquer my newfound relief.
Since I grew taller and stronger over time,
I concluded I would slowly walk back home with all the goods,
at the very worst.
Then the moment of reckoning (as yet).
The very worst scenario I could ever envision,
that my family will be entirely wiped away from the memories of this world.
That I would be rendered kinless and left to fend for myself.
That I would try to go home yet I could never reach it.
That everyone else was in a huge conspiracy together.
I had absolutely no solution to this self-inflicted trauma.
At such a supposedly-innocent age,
one could hardly regard this as normal.
How can anyone of age ten possibly not be traumatized by such?
I used to have repetitive nightmares like these,
and I would cry at night because I disliked these notions.
Then came the refusals to go grocery shopping,
due to certain extent of extreme paranoia.
God is quick, as always, to prove my paranoia wrong.
So, please don't make kids cry with threats to leave them behind.
It's extremely upsetting.
Enough of my childish fears.
In any case,
I can't believe there're only two weeks of holidays left.
After this week, that is.
It's going to be December, and Christmas will be gone in a flash.
I HAVEN'T GOTTEN [read: stolen] WHAT I WANT.
Boo.
I forgot to credit Johnnylia for offering a tantalising tale of her rejection for one.
Lovely.
Okay, I'm too short to jump and reach for one.
Come, Johnnylia-maknenek.
We'll go at... ... say, 3am?
p/s. bring your bamboo poles along.
I cut my finger while sealing envelopes and sending them down to the post office.
Now, how smart is that?
Pretty smart, I reckon.
Now I can't play while worshipping without wincing because it's my left hand.
It's stinging pain,
almost insanely throbbing.
I appreciate the blood shed,
the oozing red brought a l'il colour surprise to my dull week.
Experiencing the swell of pain hints.
Seeing the brightness of red affirms.
I am alive.
I am human.
I'm feelin' it, all right ;)
OH, and as an afterthought,
I still think everyone else is collaborating in a huge conspiracy.
Just jesting.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:52 PM
Tuesday, November 16
"Knock me if you have to,
I have not bones of glass."
Saturnine, as always.
Saved by endless streams of merriment.
She appreciated that.
She reciprocated, in varying degrees.
Soulless banter was her apparent forte,
Steeped in customary irony was utmost peine forte et dure.
- to be resumed
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:08 PM
Sunday, November 14
It really sucks to be retching nothing,
but a mix of gastric juices and bile.
I didn't eat because I was feeling extremely nauseous,
yet my body insists on getting some [nonexistent] stuff out of my stomach.
I am running a terribly high fever,
but I feel extremely cold on the outside.
This reminds me of what happened last year.
I need divine healing.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 9:48 PM
Saturday, November 13
Those unreliable, lying cheaters!
The NP personnels didn't bother to sms me my results,
despite my anxiety and edginess the entire day!
Never mind that,
because I outwitted 'em.
There's always the NpalNet.
And so, I truly give thanks to God,
who never did forsake me,
despite the circumstances.
I cleared Choy's module!
I got a D+.
Not a very pretty grade [it marred my entire sheet],
but i'm content and thankful as it is.
Grace is indeed, receiving what I do not deserve.
This is significant of how 'quadruple-y' hard I have to work next semester.
I ought to credit Mrs Suja Thomas and our alltime-fave MAM,
for being so generous and lovely.
Ha, ha!
My first step to gathering my basketful of distinctions to earn myself a scholarship.
Next - gear myself up for marketing, socpsych and writtcomm.
It's pretty sad Suja Thomas' going on maternity leave,
I wonder how socpsych will be without her.
OH goodness gracious me.
I am pining away for school, unbelievable.
This would never have happened back in SA, man.
See the magick of passion and belief?
Christmas is coming again.
The period of time when I taste a most peculiar blend of
festive cheer and a melancholy of sorts.
I take joy in making cards for people I love during Christmas.
And I have already decided what gift I am going to get for Yvonne.
Sshh - she doesn't visit my weblog, so don't tell her, eh?
It's the spirit of giving!
The season to eat, drink and be merry! [read: gorge without feeling guilty]
Self-justified reasons to belt out carols as and when I FEEL like it!
Then there's always this hankering after the TRUE meaning of Christmas,
when something [always] goes wrong - year after year, after year.
I figured if I live in blissful oblivion,
with my focus set on Him alone,
it'll be the best Christmas thus far.
And the things of this earth
will grow strangely dim
in the light of His glory and grace.
- Did You Know? -
Palestinian leader, Yasser Arafat, attempted to
lie about being born in Jerusalem, when in fact, he was born in Egypt?
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:00 PM
Wednesday, November 10
No frills post.
[by default of Blogspot's innumerous glitches)
I had a relapse of the Mid-week blues.
So, I decided to turn towards WWW therapy.
(in place of the noble responsibilities of a kopi taitai)
"KeEp oN bReAtHiNg, pEoPlE..."
I read this statement off somewhere on the WWW.
I wonder if it's an attempt to be funny, or not.
Every breath one takes,
requires a certain mix of divine grace and personal will.
Have you ever felt you were taking in your last breaths?
Or that once your glazed eyes shut out the light of this world,
they would never witness the wondrous beauty of it again?
Perhaps it was just so cold and nauseating,
that you wouldn't feel the slightest tinge of difference in slipping into total darkness.
It's sheer bliss to breathe in deeply -
smell the [albeit polluted] air,
feel the [clammy] humid afternoon,
hear the [droning] pitter-patter of raindrops on your windows,
taste the [off-dewy] after-rain,
see the [barely visible] intriguing rainbow.
Thankful for every breath you take, now?
I may be a cynic at heart,
but still a helpless child of God in soul.
I am indebted to Him.
You know,
it seems to be the latest fad to act like a bimbo.
[or EVEN WORSE, perhaps they are true-blue ones]
Either that,
or be cutesy.
[look to fiona xie as the genie for reference]
What's the world coming to, anyway?
Can't I just be left as I am?
I DON'T want to act bimbotic.
[I was just playing along the previous time LAH]
I DON'T want to be cutesy.
[I'd have fainted from disgust first]
W T H .
Let me be
... the auntie ...
can?
Can??
CAN??!
Okay - composure, deb, composure.
Anyway,
I think I'd rather be an Ah Lian, than to be a bimbo.
I half reckon Ah Lians, at the very least, are street wise.
On LAH!
I shall go rebond my hair and dye my hair some Lian-ish colour.
Be proud to be a SingapoLian, okay?
And let me just say this:
I don't like blue, but I ABSOLUTELY DETEST pink.
OH, and another thing.
dOn'T eVeR tYpE LiKe tHiS, cAn?
I caught Get Rea! on CNA recently.
They had a segment on third parties being the victims, actually.
The heading read : Fatal Attraction
Thoroughly apt, I must say.
And by the end of the show, I concluded -
"Men are the corrupted species."
- Debbeeeology, since 1986.
How could the said antagonist be so unscrupulous,
as to two-time for TWO FREAKIN' YEARS?
The poor girl.
Little wonder there are more and more womenfolk succumbing to their inclinations towards their own gender.
I am re-reading Darlene Zschech's Extravagant Worship .
I think I have alot to learn about worship.
I want to be really good at it, by the time I do it full-time in Heaven.
Afterall, it's for God, and He deserves the best.
When I'm done with that book,
I'll probably finish up the Iliad.
THEN, maybe I'll relive the Peloponnesian War.
[fat chance, deb. it'll be start of semester again, by then]
I really want to be a children's writer.
I want to weave tales of astonishing beauty and fascination for them.
I want to publish my stories, my poems, my illustrations.
Perhaps... .. one day, I'll be like Jostein Gaarder.
[dream on, man]
I know, I said I was pining away for Wednesday's escapade.
Well, those heartless canines ditched the mouldy taitai.
. . .
Wah!
Cannot like this!
Why have deb become so uncouthed?
Ah well,
thanks, eh?
This means I'm a step nearer to bridging the
i-don't-really-want-to-bridge-this-GAP
between me and the MCM style.
It's alright.
Three years will be over in a flash.
Then I'll be able to declare with pride -
"Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit
-- --
Perhaps, this too will be a pleasure to look back on one day."
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:08 AM
Tuesday, November 9
All is well.
After a fretful night of remorse, tossing-and-turning and bloody eye, that is.
No such thing as an overnight grudge within the family, I say.
Wariness grows weariness.
Except for the fact that my eye is still bloody [and] irritated,
"LetTheWholeEarthPraiseHim"
O Lord Almighty,
Let Your wondrous love melt all insecurities away,
melt that plank in my eye (that I will learn not to judge others' by the speck in theirs).
So I'll let my words be few.
Amen.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:51 AM
Monday, November 8
I really don't like to shout.
I didn't want to shout.
But I did.
So, well done.
Involuntary minute dehydration,
coupled with a grain of some sort in my right eye.
It's rather irritating,
making my eye go all bloody.
I hope all these will fade away,
in the still of the Night.
I know God will bring me along,
Through.It.All
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:11 PM
It's a sneak preview of the endless lethargy of the coming week.
The only push factor is Wednesday's escapade -
journey to where spasms and weird noises suffice.
I have a gazillion thoughts jumping inside of me,
dying to be let out,
but 'tis a haven no more.
Life without school (read: any specific aim or purpose, in this case) is torturous.
Daily grind of mindless work, spanning eight hours, kills me.
All that sustains me for now, is Friday.
I promise to give thanks to God,
no matter the results.
Into your hand
I commit again
All I am
For You Lord
You hold my world
In the palm of Your hand
and I'm yours
Forever
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:49 AM
Sunday, November 7
s l e e p
A remedy like none others.
Coupled with some nice tea,
and a book under the covers.
You, too, would feel much better.
No, I'm not feeling down.
Or anything of that sort.
I call it being a li'l under the weather.
It's been aeons since a really read-worthy post.
You want to know why?
Prying eyes are locked on this thought-haven -
too many for my comfort.
Y'all see the title on the top of this page?
(assuming you are literate, of course)
Read after me, G-O A-W-A-Y
It's quite literal, really.
Candied egregiousness -
I didn't choose this template with my eyes closed.
Therefore, nothing much will be up here as yet.
Have I ever declared my dread for abrupt endings?
The ones you do not choose, yet that which force you to seek a new path?
I don't like changes I do not warrant.
Alas, all things good and beautiful must come to an end.
(I personally would be immensely pleased to single-handedly choke the person who came up with this ingenious phrase)
So, a word of appreciation for your efforts in driving me to progress to my sixth weblog.
Yet, another plea - don't link me LAH.
(Singlish acts as a common denominator in fostering -ahem- amicability)
A tall order, yes.
Does wonders, you know?
Alright, back on a happier note.
Let's have some nice photos.
First up, the mass comm-ers in Amb:
(from your left, clockwise) Keith, Terrence, ME, Harie, Neng Hao.
Next, coming - two looneys with good'ol debbie.
Third's Winston looking rather scandalised.
Well, this is incriminating evidence of me murdering Keith. Actually, I merely look like a pathologist!
Ahem. Paparazzi-in-the-making-terrence snaps awaaaaaaaaay.
This was freakin' cold in the ECH room, right after our washup time.
(from your left) Lisa, ME, Keith, Terrence, Ron, SARAH MARTINS (fuzzy wuzzy!)
Last up, majority of the really boh-liao Ambs. *Stop pushing my head LAH!*
(see how they marginalize the female species in here?)
I miss school. (!)
I know, it's strange to hear those words from my mouth.
Ha, ha!
But seriously, I enjoy MCM,
simply because it's something i enjoy,
So, when I return in another 4 weeks' time,
it'll be nearing Christmas and my day.
The very first time I am whiling these two away in school,
so let's all pray hard it'll be as good, if not better.
Meanwhile,
I'll continue working as my kopi-taitai (ha, ha)
and enjoy my holidays.
Oh, man.
My blog's getting so generic,
almost like any other diary.
See LAH, all your fault. -BOO- .
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:07 AM
Saturday, November 6
I'm not down,
I'm not down,
I'm not down.
Don't you, for an instance, feel sorry for me.
I am merely phasing.
A million emotions to express,
but no words to speak.
A mind choked full of thoughts,
but not a confrere to confer.
I shall sift through myself,
Conscience; Mind; Soul.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:09 AM
Tuesday, November 2
Tempting Heart
I have been in love with this film for four years.
I am awed by Shino's voice in the main theme.
OH, how i adore Sylvia Chang,
and her opening quote in the music video clip.
"If 'twas Fate that brought two together,
could their separation be predestined, too?
Interpersonal intrigues - effortless and natural, in all its simplicity!
Yet, only seemingly so... ... "
d e b b e e e kvetched at 6:41 PM
Monday, November 1
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinkin'
Maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
It's that time of Life again -
when one loses the high;
when the skies seem greyer than usual;
when the soul is devoid of all emotion.
Go, going, gone.
I lost that spark in Life.
I could have gone on and on,
guessing Life's riddles.
But to-day,
I don't know what to think,
I don't know what to do.
And
I don't like it,
when personality tests are spot-on.
Bullseye accuracy discomfits me.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:01 PM