Apr 28, 2011

Let's pretend the world is waking up

let the rain wash away
all the pain of yesterday

i just feel like typing nonsense so here goes

There are some things that plague your mind every now and then and you just don't know what to do with these weird thoughts.

there are some things i'm tired of thinking about, really. just get out of my head and leave me alone.

Nagging little things I could reflect upon for hours on end if I had the time. But they're worrying things, and worrying about things or looking at the inevitable with a sense of despair won't help.

it's just sad, the inevitability of some things. There's always the ideal we like to drown ourselves in, but when the truth hits hard, it's bitter medicine. Truth is, the real world isn't the one in our heads. At all.

All that fun and laughter isn't always reflective of a deep strong friendship beneath. Tough times and great returns doesn't always mean an everlasting bond. True friendship versus mere friendly tolerance. we hang out a lot now but it doesn't mean it'll continue later.

Effort dying down.

Walking along the edge of a cliff. Just centimeters away from me is air; it will never be filled with rock, and I know that and am happy with that; that's how it should be. I've been walking on the edge for so long without ever worrying about falling; there's a huge glass wall preventing me from falling even if I tried. Then I start happily banging at the wall, trying to break it, without even realising because I've always been taking advantage of the fact that I'll never fall. Then one day it cracks. Shucks. And any closer to the broken wall and I die in an instant.

A friend I can't afford to lose, ever. We'll meet for dinners when we're greying and talk to no end.

Wonder who I'll keep in contact with after two years here :(

Apr 26, 2011

maybe i'm pretty today

because people, drugged by alcohol - or a heavy dose of atmosphere
say the funniest things

6km SP route run? No problem, because I'm with the best people around. No problem at all. So what if I haven't run more than 2km since last June.

Now, on to the 2.4km test round the track... I'd rather do the 6km run with those I love, really.

moonlit playground and a couple of cans
and them kids
high on hormones
drunk on the tears of a draining seven months
take the plunge

into each other's arms

Apr 23, 2011

Seperated by a barrier yet closer than your breath

Like I've seen you before about a million times
In another life, in another life, baby
you must have been mine

It does seem like a weird other life - the days we were all we needed, when we hardly had friends in school but it didn't matter because we were all that did.

Sometimes I do wonder why I don't miss you; I'd never even imagine things going back again. It was a past - a sweet past, but also a huge mess I've completely gotten over. I don't miss you, at all, or feel anything when I see you.

At the same time, I know that when you talk about certain things in a certain way, I know you don't mean it deep inside. Things like hooking up with pretty girls, saying it in a way that doesn't seem like it matters a crazy lot -
I know
how sincere you were
when you were with me.

of course, that was a different you - insecure, in need of love to fuel your own self-worth. But I know the side you display to others, in your madness and the way you say things, isn't totally who you really are - a sweet, dedicated individual, who isn't just playin' around.

The day we broke up, you finally said yeah, maybe we really could just be friends - great friends someday; I could be there for you for future heartaches and breakups. Like a sister.

Our paths crossed at a time so vulnerable for us both - unloved, rejected. We filled each other's lives for a year and nine months. After that the lines broke apart; we couldn't think about each other without rage, tears, heartache, loneliness.

Now, around a year and nine months after it all ended,
we realise friendship isn't that unrealistic a goal after all.

There's a box my mum gave me when I was young - transparent with a pink tint, super glittery, with a crown on top. Metal corners and a metal latch. I called it my "princess box" - it made me feel pretty, like a girl in a tiara. My brother had something similar in dark blue. In it I put pretty things that had significance.

A glass pebble my mum had a box of from Ikea - so pretty, rainbow-ish at some angles.
A little plastic rose.
A sticker with my full name on it that my aunt (or mum) had helped me print out.
A flower petal and little pieces of a rubber ball and hose. In P3 or P4 I went for a science workshop at the Science Centre and this guy poured dry ice over these soft things, and they instantly shattered. We were amazed. When we picked them up after that, we were even more amazed to find them back to their original soft/rubber state again. Meant a lot to me. The wonders of science.

I threw these things away when I gave the box to you. I didn't want to get rid of them, but they were useless. The sentimental value of them, though, was inexplicable but so strong. Little pretty things that captivated me that I had put into my princess box.

I gave the box to you, with other pretty things - paper-folded stars that you had to unfold to reveal little Chinese song quotes.

Some time after we broke up, I was looking into my drawer and saw my brother's blue box - and realised my box was probably gone forever, together with you. I wasn't going to ask for it.

It symbolised something precious I had given away that would always be in my memory, of a time of simplicity and beauty, that I'd unfortunately never see again, or have that tangible object to remind me of it.
Like that ring (because I lost it).

Now that it's returned to me,

it's only a shell of what it used to be - oh the colourful little things that once filled it, filled me - now empty, but still holding the memories of how my life used to be.

Now, on to friendship.

Apr 22, 2011


Dan's in bed, thinking about that girl with the nice eyes

when his sister walks into the room. She's not pretty, or popular, but it's day twelve of junior college and two guys have confessed to her. Said she's got a wonderful bubbly personality; it captures them. And the second guy's the one she hasn't stopped thinking about since day two. It makes her ecstatic. No, nothing's going on yet, but he's so sweet, he stays back to walk her to the train station after school, the texting goes on every day, he's showing a side of him who cares. He's a very nice boy, Dan, you should be more like him - no wonder you don't have girls going after you. It's about time, Dan, life's gotta get exciting sometime -

lights off, Dan's on the lower deck.

Yeah it's about time. It has always been 'about time'. Eighteen years and he's never experienced the sparks of love his sister has, from holding hands, from a peck on the cheek, from a gaze into each other's eyes.

Why does she get it all so effortlessly? She isn't pretty or skinny, really, but her personality is an aura of gold that rubs off on other people and they love her for that.

while he lies in bed and thinks about his uneventful life, and when love will find him, or when he'll get to experience all his sister has

and the girl with the nice eyes.

No more rejects__alley, it's queerkidslane

Queer as in weird - not gay! (Not that I'm against homosexuals or anything, just clarifying)

Does anyone wanna go for City Harvest's Easter production? It's gonna be cool!!!!! Saturday 1pm and 5pm; Sunday 10am :)

Slept at 5am today and woke up at 8.15pm. It's a record. I missed church and Free Starbucks Day. Missed the opportunity to catch up on my work.

He died for us so that we could live for Him

There's a price for knowing God. Maybe many of us don't know him because that price is too high. The price of sacrificing time, of stopping the things you frequently indulge in that He doesn't approve of like gossip or vulgarities, of letting go of hatred and learning to forgive, acknowledging that your own strength isn't enough - letting go of your pride and reaching out to Him. All for someone you don't see, or hear, but whom the Bible says is always with you and watching you.

It's all worth it, really, once you feel Him. Once He's swept His might and power over you, you realise that without Him, you're nothing. You're a hopeless nothing. With Him, you have hope, knowing everything you do is being watched over by Him, that He has plans for you - plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans for hope and a bright future - and not for your own glory, but His own alone.

Apr 19, 2011

Through the pain

Council is mad.

I love you guys with all my heart, all my heart

Apr 13, 2011

Because I love John Donne

All other things, to their destruction draw,
Only our love hath no decay;

Little girl writing a little love letter, every word carefully thought out, carefully printed in ink. How will he react to it? Each word, each so dear to her heart. She's got a box of emotions, of love she's willing to pour out and tears she's willing to shed; she's placing it on his doorstep - careful, try not to break the fragile glass heart. A fragile, fragile gift, with the words of a letter she now knows by heart. Each word so carefully written.

And the boy says
I love you for the love in you, for your strong ideals, your dedication to life.
I love you for your innocence, for your belief in the beauty of the world,
for your unwavering hope.

Keep the flame of love in you burning. Don't be discouraged by falls. Keep the faith. Don't let reality get in the way. Your love for the world, it's caught on me. You've opened my eyes to the love and goodness of a fallen world. There's hope, you know it, you hold it in your palm. Don't ever let go. Fly; share it with the world like you've done to me.

The little girl, her dark brown locks and yellow sundress, she's laughing at my mismatched socks. She's beautiful.

Apr 12, 2011

Council requires sacrifice

I was never a good dancer. When I was contemplating trying out for the Council Exco, I was in a dilemma because I knew I'd have to quit Dance sooner or later, but when Sebby said "but you are of more use to Council than to Dance" I knew I had made up my mind. I knew it was going to be a tough sacrifice - lousy and relatively lonely as I was in Dance, I knew it was something I still really liked to do anyway, and it was really fun and all. Since quitting Dance I've become horribly flabby and unfit. I remember the hour-long warm-ups that left me feeling like I was on my way to becoming a bodybuilder.

There are a lot of things I've given up for Council - the biggest one being my fringe, I hate pinning it up. I wouldn't consider time that painful and huge a sacrifice - although I know Council has taken up a lot, A LOT of my time, I give that up very willingly.

But I know my Council journey and the friendships I've formed and experiences I've gained are worth a thousand times more than everything I've given up for it. It's been an amazing journey.

Apr 8, 2011

Haven't posted in quite a while

In love with the music video for Cry Me Out (Pixie Lott)!

Council drains me of my energy, but it's also what keeps me going. When it occurred to me that I wouldn't be with the 35ths for the next two days, I suddenly felt like I couldn't wait for the school week to begin again.


K I'm not in the mood to write I should stop trying.

Wrecking havoc at the much-talked-about, very beautiful Hou's Hous(e) has been fun.

This is Matthew Hou on the drums...

Hou on the guitar (he's amazing - gotta take a video of him playing!)...

Hou on the piano...

and Hou on the bass guitar (FOR THE FIRST TIME!).

And that's hou he'll get all the girls.

Apr 2, 2011


Will blog about SYF and other random things when I can. Sorry folks.

Getting three hours' sleep or less every weekday for the past two weeks hasn't been easy. Plus writing an essay with emotion takes a lot of time to get into the mood, and that totally ate up the two consecutive days I had come home before the sun had set (miracle, two days in a row!).

Every time I open my college planner to write down my homework, I'm in a total sian mood because I know there's one more thing I have to do. And then I see "Council" appearing four times out of the five days of the school week, and I get all excited again, knowing I'll be spending time with people I love on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

Gives me something to look forward to.

When I was in Dance and loving it (although I was a horrible dancer), I could say something like "I look forward to Mondays and Thursdays - that's when I come alive. Dance is a revival of spirits. It's not often that you hear someone saying they can't wait for Sunday to pass."


Now the Council is... a true family of friends I previously had never experienced. Even though it's tiring and very demanding, I wouldn't give it up for the world. If not for these people, I'd be feeling considerably out of place in AC, and very dissatisfied with myself too, knowing I'd have liked to make significant contributions to the school.

Now I see an ACJC sticker pasted on the table - or a fellow student flipping open his college planner - and my heart is warmed, knowing I've given something useful to the school.

There's this inexplicable satisfaction you get from knowing that all you slogged for really made people in the school happy, added a little excitement into their JC lives and enhanced their college experience, or helped to raise the name of ACJC.

In the context of sports and the performing arts, there's this satisfaction you get from knowing that all you slogged for has brought glory to the school and upheld the name of ACJC. Showed the nation what we're capable of.

Your heart soars when you know you've contributed to something far greater than yourself. Thirty years on, the random ACSian wouldn't remember your name, but they'd remember the legacy you left behind.

The Media I/C who did the amazing Sports Update slides four years ago. The painted Void Deck pillars - can you imagine them grey, I can't imagine how dreary the void deck used to look. Smiley.

The little booths in the library where you can watch movies, and the board games. Things like that.

And the poem Mr T. W. Hinch, principal of ACS from 1929-1947, came up with whose last line still resounds within the walls of every single ACS school and the hearts of every ACS student today - "The Best Is Yet To Be".