I have never felt this cold in my entire life.

Heat is radiating from my eyes after my shower,

My throat is like a sore and open wound

-- I don't even dare swallow,

I shivered as I stood under the warm stream of water,

not wanting to leave myself to the bitter cold of the night.

My bones ache, and my body still quivering...

I'm falling sick and I know it,

But why ain't I calling on the Lord?

Beer in hand

Marx on the table

Laptop by my side

but my mind's fixed on you.

What if after all these years, I still find myself liking you?

A chance, is that what I'm asking?

Just went to the doctor today to grab my MRI medical report -- turned out I've sustained a minor, "very very mild" slip disc condition due to a degeneration of the disc at the bottom of my spine. I suppose the squash 'warm-up' game only aggravated it; but then again, how was I to know? My doctors, including my physiotherapist said I could carry on with my physical activities, so there. But this time round, after reviewing my MRI scan report, the doctor advised me against high-impact sports. I asked if I could carry on playing squash and I could tell from his expression that he really didn't want to disapppoint me. But in the end, he said the word and I suppose I can lay my hands off the four squash rackets sitting at home right now. He advised swimming -- thankfully, something I enjoy -- and cycling. Running now had to be done with well-cushioned shoes, but honestly my mind was fixed on the fact that I can no longer, at least for now, play squash. In a desperate bid to seek approval for another sport I love, I asked whether I could play badminton. He disappointed me again, without having the intention to do so. Naturally, my net emotion after the appointment was in the red.

After lunch, I went down with the SPD team to watch two of our boys play in their exciting match. My net emotion continued its decline as firstly, the match was cancelled due to the rain; and secondly, I watched the boys play passionately for a sport they love. For someone now who cannot do just that, it was heartbreaking.

I feel useless. I think it's like how the senior citizens feel about themselves in relation to the world. Mentoring three athletic boys only compound the emotion...

I feel very useless.

my mum gave me steroids,

for my aching darn back.

I am upset that my expectation wasn't met but at the same time, I am struggling alongside him. I know I need to be firm in my stand lest he flouts the rules we decided a year back, but I also don't want to hurt his feelings any further. I NEED TO FIND THAT MIDDLE GROUND AND BE COMFORTABLE IN IT.

I am (You are) wrestling with the mentor's heart.

seeing people around me getting emotional/ confused/ matured/ angsty/ happy/ all childlike, makes me wonder whether it's a good thing to not have girlfriend woes.

on one hand, I kinda want it.

but on the other, I don't wanna.

All we need is a little bit of honesty.

Haven't blogged much these past few months, but I need a space to rant and pour my heart out. So since this is a convenience space, I figured "Why not?" After all, the materials used for my first sermon were taken from this blog space. (I do hope no one reads/ follows this blog though)

Fact is, I haven't been feeling too good this evening. It's the third day of the Lunar New Year and I just came back from my aunt's place. Before that, I went to my cousin's new flat before heading down to Jeryl's for a steamboat dinner. So it was a pretty hectic day for me, rushing and running to and fro from one place to another. Strangely enough instead of feeling all angsty and bottled up inside because of the mad rushings, I felt tired. Perhaps it's the cumulative effect of the week's visiting, feasting and late nights. But at my aunt's place, I laid on the couch and found myself soundly asleep for a good 45 mins. Mind you, I don't normally do this even when I'm most tired and shacked out. In a nutshell, today was somewhat a first.

I thought it was fatigue, considering the fact that I didn't sleep very well last night (in fact I went supper with Pine at Macs where we ate and talked for a good two hours). But then I realised it couldn't be fatigue, or at least not the kind I usually get. Simply because when I'm tired, I tend to go all emotional and thinking of stupid things I shouldn't be thinking of. But I wasn't. I was too tired to even think. My muscles were devoid of strength and energy seemed to have left my bones for good. Moreover, I didn't feel too good inside -- it was as if I was gonna fall sick, that kind of feeling. In fact, after this I'm gonna sleep already.

(I forgot why I even want to blog in the first place)

Suffice to say, I feel like a jerk. Maybe I am. It's not even an issue of "being torn" but rather, I feel like I'm intentionally shooting lil cupid arrows at two target boards at the same time. I feel rather disgusted with myself really. I won't even end with an "oh well..."; in fact I don't know how to end this entry.

goodnight world.

The last time i posted something, anything on this page was the day before Christmas last year. I never once had a large following on my blog. And now with this 6 month hiatus, I know I would have lost whatever 'fans' I used to have. Oh! the Liberty! But, I would be a greater idiot and a fool at that too if I were to say nothing transpired, nothing changed since that last day of my posting. In fact, so much has happened that perhaps writing a blog entry seemed to have lost its thrills and youthful eagerness. Thus today with both these reasons firmly placed at the back of my mind, I write for a reason, a purpose.

I woke up this morning, having only slept a meagre 6 hours the night before, feeling emotionally empty; no, I was emotionally confused to the point of not knowing what and how to feel emotionally. The phrase "being torn" has been used countless times in my youthful days of blind pursuits of an elusive love that sought only to please the people around me just so that to them, I could be 'normal'; hence my refusal to use the term here. But today, I am torn now.

No, it's nothing to do with girls and it's definitely got nothing to do with boys. It's a personal issue of responsibility and the love for the ministry and oh, the desire to see it grow and mature and blossom to something far greater than where we are today, of course all this by faith. I am torn.

I once heard of this account of a boy struggling to be with the one he 'loves'. He took a lift up to the 11th floor, the highest floor of the housing estate and trudged down the corridor with tears only beginning to well up in his eyes. With every step he took, he took it with his greatest strength, but also with greatest pain. After pulling the dead weight that was chained to his feet for a mere ten metres, he stood with fear and trepidation in his heart before a wooden door. By then his eye sockets like a swimming pool could no longer hold the sea of tears quickly crashing against his eyelids; it finally rolled down his pale face that once burned red under the scorching sun of his athletic days. As his tears found freedom, his heart was bound and his feet still sore from the pulling of the weight. He turned his body around and looked into the distance, walked towards the chest-high wall and grabbed the bar set firmly on it. He would have fallen through if not for that solid, firm wall, plummeting eleven stories down into the cars below him. Memories, oh the sweet sweet memories came flooding back into his already fatigued mind and as if they materialised, the tears came like a mighty flood and washed his face clean. He wanted so much to cry out, scream even, but could not, in fear that the people in the house behind him would hear him. He wanted to so much to tell the world, and God, how burdened he was but yet like a man gone suddenly mute in the world, he bottled his sour wine inside that burned with acidic pain. He was tormented. And it must have brought much glee to his tormentors as he finally succumbed to the pain and went crashing down on his knees, with hands firmly wrapped around that solid bar set upon that solid, firm wall. In a voice loud enough for God to hear, but perhaps soft enough to leave his devils to their own sick celebratory parties, he murmurred with tears choking him, "Which 16 year old have to go through this?" With that, he bowed his head in submission and still knew not what to do.

.
Today, I ask myself that same question "Which 22 year old have to go through this?"

Blessed Christmas 2009

it's been quite a while since i last said something here and much have happened during this period. i wouldn't bother to retell my experiences here since it would be absolutely pointless and completely ludicrous to do so.

we're only a few minutes from Christmas, the day the world celebrates the season of giving and also the day Christ our Saviour is born. as i've mentioned earlier, much have happened over these few weeks of mad rush. i've wanted some peace of mind so badly during that hectic moments and now i've got it. strangely, i get this peace on the eve of Christmas. when i'm supposed to feel all fuzzy and warm inside, instead i get all peaceful, perhaps even to the point of feeling well, almost lonely.

reading the news these days, there has been snowstorms all over europe and eastern usa. i suppose what's missing this Christmas is the warmth and fuzzy feeling derived from loved ones and friends, in the midst of a cold snowstorm of life.

Happy Birthday Jesus :)

WOAH. The last time I wrote in here was what, a month ago? That's ludicrous. At this point if I were to apologise to my readers or worse, to my blog for 'neglecting' them/ it, I'd be insane. So in order to protect my sanity, I wouldn't.

In this past one month, much has taken place. Not just random hall activities, but also the consistant and constant mugging in the j-room. Urgh. Just Andrew, Ming En, Sheree and I in the room studying our asses off. Of course, in the case of Ming En, she's just perpetually counting and re-counting tee-shirt orders. But oh well, these people are my study buddies. (Come to think of it, I'm wondering what'd be going through my dense brain when I read this ten, twenty years down the road. Worse yet, what will my sons and grandsons think of me?)

So as I was saying the exams are over, well, since last Tuesday that is. It was no easy feat considering that my first day of exams saw me going to two different examination halls for two seperate content-heavy papers - LIT and 103. Urgh. By the time the day ended, my hand literally went limp. Urgh. When I reached back to my room, I was so tired I told myself I'd just chill on facebook then go straight to bed before hitting the books again the next day. But no, Clara messaged me online saying Great-grandaunt passed away the noon before. Naturally, I was shocked. I wasn't particularly close to her, but still I missed her company, especially the times when all of us would gather at her place to celebrate her birthdays. Oh yes, those were memorable times. But now, she's gone, thankfully to be with the Lord.

And all that happened two weeks ago. Fast forward to last week, I finished my paper on tuesday with 102. After which, I went home to prep myself up for the Amazing(race) Camp. Since that day, I haven't had a good night's rest. Always up in the morning just to get to some strange place, hoping that I could catch a quick shut-eye on the transport to and fro the place. That hope never really did come to pass. I remained awake for much of the journey, but then again, oh well. The fatigue's setting in now, thankfully after Church.

Everything above has been said and done.

Rather it is the life with you that my mind dwells upon

A memory. A distant memory. A recollection of events.

I need to re-evaluate all of that has transpired.

By then I fear I'd cringe at the outcome,

Or be in awe of His goodness and providence.

But really by then, I wonder where you'll even be?

i want to sleep, no. i need to sleep. but yet i cannot. i cannot dream if this 'nightmarish' reality does not pass from me. i cannot shut my eyes nor ears nor mind, let alone dream of fluffy cotton-like dreams.

i long for the bed, no. i pine for the bed. but yet i cannot. i cannot lay my heavy head down until i return to my room. i cannot leave nor walk from where i am because strangely, something is tying me down.

ah yes, the knife is here. it has cut me loose.

and off i fly to my bed-portal into the world of cotton fluffs and candy canes.

perhaps one of the saddest text i've ever read

"He rushed beyond the barrier and called to her to follow. He was shouted at to go on but he still called to her. She set her white face to him, passive, like a helpless animal. Her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition."

(Eveline by James Joyce)

ah yes, so I'm finally posting something here after a pretty long hiatus. As of date, I've finished all my sociology essays/assignments and am currently working on my lit and writing essay/assignment. Okay, enough of that bull-crap. (Honestly, who cares about what I've been busy with. You?)

-urgh.

I just want you to know I'm here for you.

mm, it's that simple I guess...

i just walked out of my literature lecture today feeling some sense of emptiness. It left me wondering why. Perhaps it was the film Persona that left me pretty speechless, both in a good and bad way. Or maybe it's because I'm getting jaded from school and the system. Perhaps it is the fatigue that has accompanied me since Monday. Perhaps . . . Perhaps . . . Perhaps . . .

I've never liked the concept of the unknown. Or worse yet, the concept of what could have been. Come to think of it, the worst is possible the concept of what should have been.

ah, yes. the process of rationalisation has kept me sane. That broke my train of irrationality and emo-ness.

Think rational dude, that's the only way to keep sane.

Singapore's Strange Logic

Yesterday evening I went to a friend's place at Serangoon for Bible Study. To get there, I had to exit at the station on the Circle Line. Serangoon having 2 'different' stations situated on different train routes were linked via a short linkway. It was at this linkway, that I noticed the strangest logic of Singaporeans.

In this linkway, there is a travellator which technically is supposed to aid in the movement of mass blocks of people especially during the rush hour. What was strange and ironical here was the massive jam caused at the entrance to the travellator. People queued just to get onto the moving piece of steel instead of walking down the gently sloped floor. Goodness, people were that lazy to even walk down as opposed to walking up. And there weren't even stairs; it was simply a gently sloped floor.

I admit, I was one of the lazy ones.

So on the travellator, I was quite surprised to see a line of people standing to their left creating this nice passageway for people rushing to board the train over at the Circle Line. Within seconds since I 'boarded' the moving steel, I saw people walking down the right lane. I turned around and there I saw, hardly anyone standing static and holding the handrails as the law requires them to do. Everybody was brisk walking down the runway. It was past 7pm and the Little Nonya has finished its run already, so why the rush? Is Singapore literally a fast-paced society?

I admit, I joined in the fray - wanted to know what was it like to blend in with the crowd and not stick out like a sore thumb. The feeling of keeping up with the pace, since there were people less than an arm's length away from me, was pretty exhilarating. I don't believe I'm actually saying this, but I think I was somewhat stressed; Or at least, I was pressured.

What was even more strange here was that in all that relatively mad rush, as opposed to the calm state of those who choose to abide by the law and hold the handrail, they suddenly stopped. And it wasn't as if the travellator was coming to its end. No, there was at least still a good fifteen to twenty metres away from its destination, when the whole chunk of us stopped in our tracks. I could not see what was blocking us from moving. Even if it was a pram or a wheelchair, surely there would be ample room for us to stream in a line past them in the express right lane?

It was the strangest logic of Singaporeans I thought to myself. A mad rush for something and at the most inappropriate times, even if it was minutes from reaching/ attaininment, we somehow stop and rest. Shouldn't we press on further and finish whatever we need to complete?

This is the country I've lived in.

And this country bewilders me at times.

Singapore's Strange Logic.

Our Strange, Unique Logic.

I was reading the news article concerning parents up in arms over the recent PSLE mathematics paper, and my only response to that article was... "GET USED TO IT."

It brings back memories of My year's PSLE mathematics paper which had parents up in arms as well (seems like parents love that little arm exercise just to lambast the state eh). If I'm not mistaken, my year was the first year the paper was too difficult for the students to handle. Then again, if you look at it from the state's perspectives, my batch was the much-talked-about '88 Dragon batch so perhaps the rationale for the high level of difficulty was to do an easier streaming process.

(brings back thoughts of inequality, but that's another topic altogether)

Back to this year's paper, hey face it. There's the use of a calculator, parents should have obviously known that the standard would at least be slightly harder considering that the child now can use an additional calculative brain, so to speak, to aid him/her in the exams. DUH, the paper would be difficult. SO GET USED TO IT.

.

Besides, it's not as if this is the first time such a "arm-raising" exercise has happened over a PSLE paper. Come to think of it, it's JUST the PSLE paper; there's a whole road of opportunities for any child after those 4 papers. And with all the new schemes coming up, even if you go to a Normal (Academic) Stream, do well enough prove your worth and get promoted to the Express Stream. Same thing for the Normal (Technical) kids. Back in my time, there wasn't anything like that. So make full use of it for goodness sake.

(brings back thoughts of meritocracy and pragmatism)

Besides, parents ought to remember that at the PSLE or whatever national exam it may be, there's always moderation. There's the elusive bell-curve. So it doesn't matter if you get 50% cause if you're the top of your cohort, then hey you get your A* (goodness, even this term sounds ancient to me). SO PARENTS: TAKE A CHILL PILL MAN! HAVE SOME CONFIDENCE IN YOUR KIDS. STOP PROTECTING THEM >> THEY GOTTA LEARN HOW TO SURVIVE IN THIS HARSH SINGAPORE ACADEMIC LANDSCAPE.

(brings back thoughts of inequality & meritocracy again)

Urgh, Sociology's screwing my brain.

woots! my God is faithful and true.

what a promise that is!

I managed to complete my literature essay as well as two presentations this week so that means... WORK FOR THIS WEEK IS CLEARED! shiok. To think that I only worked on my literature paper last night, and to have it finished by this afternoon just before tutorial started, That is a testimony of His grace and providence. I thought I gave my best shot for the lit essay, considering that I've never taken lit before and for that matter, also considering my busy schedules.

I serve an Amazing God.

God's been good, so good.

This morning, I had my group presentation on education and class. It went fantastic. A classmate commented I gave the impression that I wanted to speak so badly since the recess week just from my opening line. I say, it's the Lord who gave me those words.

Then I started to think about my personality traits as suggested from the DISC-survey which we did during the JCRC retreat. In fact I did a bit of future planning this morning whilst in the shower. "What exactly did I want to be in the future/ What were my career options or aspirations?" Questions like these rushed through my head. (I noticed I'm starting to sound strange with all this talk, but hey it did happen, and perhaps just perhaps, I am strange). I thought of friend who did the same survey as I did, and considered his career aspirations (since he had candidly shared with me once) for him. I believe he will do awesome in that aspired career. What about me, then?

Full time ministry did not cross my mind then, in fact it was the History Channel one that I was thinking about (not that I want that job, but it's just a thought that my long-time friend currently working in America put in my head). Often, I've told myself that I never wanted to stay in Singapore in the first place; if ever given the chance to work overseas, I will pack and leave. After all, the only things holding me grounded here is my family and kids.

Come to think of it, I recall last sunday's sermon about God using the little things that we have and makes them big, and worthy for His use. No small thing is too small for God nor big thing too big for God, He is more than able to bring me through this week, and the coming years ahead.

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Where God leads, I will go.

(but I do hope it's overseas)

when has chatting on facebook been a sin?

friends out there, don't be strange.