given enough time, the memory of you like the evening sun, will fade,
and then finally disappear, before heralding a new dawn.
Thursday 31 July 2014
Wednesday 30 July 2014
end
"Maybe I should ground you," she muttered.
I snorted. All these while you've already had me grounded. You grounded my mind. Caged my thoughts. Dictated my actions. Restricted my thinking. Shackled my dreams.
Maybe I'll prepare a noose, to finally let my spirit roam free.
Then, I'll be able to rest my head. one. last. time.
I snorted. All these while you've already had me grounded. You grounded my mind. Caged my thoughts. Dictated my actions. Restricted my thinking. Shackled my dreams.
Maybe I'll prepare a noose, to finally let my spirit roam free.
Then, I'll be able to rest my head. one. last. time.
Tuesday 29 July 2014
i am my own affliction
An honest Christian life is messy. There is you in all your sin and problems and not okay-ness, and Jesus is working in you, taking over more and more areas of your life. It is a process and it can be slow, but accepting that works a whole lot better than just trying to hold your breath and act like you’ve got it all together.
-Glen FitzjerrellSo, can I finally be honest ?
Probably not.
~
Monday 28 July 2014
reunion
"I’m coming home this summer!"
"It’s about time!"
"We have to catch up. It’s been too long. I have so many things to tell you. I’m getting married in October, I bought a house in Sicily and I’ve been to eight of my top ten places I wanted to see before I die. Remember how we used to talk about that? The whole traveling and experiencing life thing while we were young?”
"Of course I do. You were always so restless. Never stopped whining about it."
"Hahaha, I did not! Besides, you were the one who asked me to leave. Pursue my dreams and all that. I still remember that lecture, hahaha.”
"I could never stand in the way of your dreams."
"Well, now I owe you big time! So tell me, what have you been up to these five years?”
"Waiting for you."
~
Shamelessly ripped off from seanjesudasan.tumblr.com. Go ahead and stalk him. He's good.
grey
Overcast skies. Hazy atmosphere. The only one awake in the house. Funereal mornings like this call for a recollection of memories. Faces, sights, sounds.
It doesn't do any good, reminiscing old memories. It leaves you heavy. Leaves you rueful. Haunted.
But I love it. I cherish it. I embrace it.
It doesn't do any good, reminiscing old memories. It leaves you heavy. Leaves you rueful. Haunted.
But I love it. I cherish it. I embrace it.
rust
when what's best is not right. and what's right is not sound. when you run into walls, over and over again. what do you do? where do you go?
when those who declare themselves your friend, leave with no word. leaving you stranded, helpless. who do you go to?
i make mistakes. you do too. so forgive me if i choose to ignore. if i choose to just. stop.
forgive me, if i break down halfway.
when those who declare themselves your friend, leave with no word. leaving you stranded, helpless. who do you go to?
i make mistakes. you do too. so forgive me if i choose to ignore. if i choose to just. stop.
forgive me, if i break down halfway.
Sunday 27 July 2014
monoculture
Do we ever learn from mistakes? Do you? Just because things worked in a certain way in the past, doesn't mean it will work now. Hell it probably wont. Your mindset is stuck. And you still have the guts to criticize? Amusing.
I don't know what is it about you. But you really annoy me.
I don't know what is it about you. But you really annoy me.
Saturday 26 July 2014
יֵשׁוּעַ
Indefinable yet approachable. Indescribable yet personal. He is beyond comprehension, further than imagination. Constant through generations, King of every nation.
He has won my heart, captured my mind. He has defeated me in my rebellion; conquered me in my sin. He has welcomed me into His presence, completely inviting me in.
Flooding me with mercies in the morning, drowning me with grace in the night.
It's not just words that I proclaim. For my words point to the Word, and the Word has a name.
Hope has a name. Joy has a name. Peace has a name. Love has a name.
And that name is Jesus Christ.
~
Wednesday 23 July 2014
gemstones
If what Michael Gungor said was true, that there's beauty in the dirt..
Then we'd better start digging.
Monday 21 July 2014
convicted
"What if every time you rang the doorbell to visit a neighbor's house you were greeted with a careless attitude and monotone sigh, 'Oh, it's you again; come on in.' "
I paused, then added, "You wouldn't visit them anymore, would you?"
Then I stated firmly, "Do you think the King of kings and Lord of lords is going to come into a place where He is not given due honor and reverence? Do you think the Master of all creation is going to speak when His Word is not respected enough to be listened to attentively. You're deceived if you do!"
I continued, "Tonight when I walked into this building, I did not sense the presence of God at all. Not in the praise, not in the worship, not in the exhortation, or during the offering. There is a reason: The Lord never comes where He is not reverenced.
The president of your nation would be granted great honor on this platform tonight simply out of respect for his office. If I stood here with one of your favorite soccer players, many of you would be on the edge of your seats. You would be eagerly anticipating and listening to every word he spoke. Yet while God's Word was read a moment ago, you barely listened, for you esteemed it lightly."
I paused, then added, "You wouldn't visit them anymore, would you?"
Then I stated firmly, "Do you think the King of kings and Lord of lords is going to come into a place where He is not given due honor and reverence? Do you think the Master of all creation is going to speak when His Word is not respected enough to be listened to attentively. You're deceived if you do!"
I continued, "Tonight when I walked into this building, I did not sense the presence of God at all. Not in the praise, not in the worship, not in the exhortation, or during the offering. There is a reason: The Lord never comes where He is not reverenced.
The president of your nation would be granted great honor on this platform tonight simply out of respect for his office. If I stood here with one of your favorite soccer players, many of you would be on the edge of your seats. You would be eagerly anticipating and listening to every word he spoke. Yet while God's Word was read a moment ago, you barely listened, for you esteemed it lightly."
By those who come near Me I must be regarded as holy;
and before all the people I must be glorified.
brick upon brick
Don't jump from the framing to the laying down of carpet. Without a roof, the carpet will need to be replaced before construction is complete. Building is a progression.
~
Friday 18 July 2014
few
I remember quite a while ago, uncle Damien preached during one of those Sundays when pastor wasn't around. His message was based on Matthew 22:14, 'For many are called, but few are chosen.'.
He was in Australia, invited to speak at a youth conference. The first session was in the morning, and it was great. Hundreds of youths, students, worshiping with passion. He felt God move, His presence and all. Many are called.
Then the pastor who invited him warned him after the session was over, to be prepared for fewer people during the second session. Or as uncle Damien said, the graveyard session (or so I think that's what he said).
'You know lah, people after having lunch, sometimes all they want is to take a nap. Somemore second session right? Sure nothing happen one lah.'
True enough, only about half of the participants attended the second session. But it was nothing short of powerful. He didn't even get a chance to preach. During worship he had an altar call, and as he laid hands on everyone, he shouted 'Fire! Fire! Fire!' and people everywhere were just overwhelmed by the Spirit. Then came the night concert, and everyone was present. 'God did move,' he said, 'but it was nothing like the second session.' Few are chosen.
Right now, I have to say, I fear this verse a lot. What if I'm called, but not chosen? What does it take to be chosen? What if all these people whom I care about, won't be chosen?
'Push for more of Him. Hunger, thirst, desire. Don't be left out. Don't let up. Don't be content.'
He was in Australia, invited to speak at a youth conference. The first session was in the morning, and it was great. Hundreds of youths, students, worshiping with passion. He felt God move, His presence and all. Many are called.
Then the pastor who invited him warned him after the session was over, to be prepared for fewer people during the second session. Or as uncle Damien said, the graveyard session (or so I think that's what he said).
'You know lah, people after having lunch, sometimes all they want is to take a nap. Somemore second session right? Sure nothing happen one lah.'
True enough, only about half of the participants attended the second session. But it was nothing short of powerful. He didn't even get a chance to preach. During worship he had an altar call, and as he laid hands on everyone, he shouted 'Fire! Fire! Fire!' and people everywhere were just overwhelmed by the Spirit. Then came the night concert, and everyone was present. 'God did move,' he said, 'but it was nothing like the second session.' Few are chosen.
Right now, I have to say, I fear this verse a lot. What if I'm called, but not chosen? What does it take to be chosen? What if all these people whom I care about, won't be chosen?
'Push for more of Him. Hunger, thirst, desire. Don't be left out. Don't let up. Don't be content.'
Thursday 17 July 2014
maybe?
Call me naive, innocent, childlike, whatever. Maybe I really am? Maybe I've been sheltered so well from how disgusting this world has become. Or maybe all this while I've had too much hope in this world? That I chose to see the good in people, despite how bad they can be? Maybe, I still do?
Frankly, I'm just shocked at how you're not shocked at all.
Monday 14 July 2014
may we never lose our wonder
Another gem from GearTalk:P&W
I'm not a fancy guitarist. Heck, I hardly play anything but worship music. But I don't care. I play songs that give people hope, that let people know they are special. Songs that let people know that they have a Father that gave his Son, so they can live.
Hear, hear!
I'm not a fancy guitarist. Heck, I hardly play anything but worship music. But I don't care. I play songs that give people hope, that let people know they are special. Songs that let people know that they have a Father that gave his Son, so they can live.
Hear, hear!
Sunday 13 July 2014
50 things I'm thankful for
50 things I'm thankful for right now, in no particular order. This post was sparked by something we did in class during NS. So I decided to count my blessings. And count them I have.
God, for just being Him; for making me; for the endless things I can't list down..
Jesus, for dying on the cross for me. For not condemning me, but loving me.
The Holy Spirit, for dwelling in me, guiding me every moment.
My dad, despite our constant arguments, he's sacrificed much for this family. That counts for something.
Mum, for always supporting me, advising me, staying patient with my temper, and being that voice of God when I go through dry spells.
Bruh, for all the games he's helped me download.
My cats, for being the cutest things in the world.
My Yamaha, aka my first guitar. For bringing me through my lowest points, aiding my emo moments.
My Spear, aka my electric. For bringing me through moments like Rally and such. For making me feel that bit much of a rockstar.
My gear, for making me sound good, when I really sound like crap.
The piano at home, also for aiding my emo moments. Because some songs are meant to be played on the piano only.
HIS Church, my second home. Seen me grow, fall and so much more to come I believe.
The worship team, for helping me grow spiritually and musically. For teaching me teamwork and unity.
Jeremy. My sifu. For teaching me the dos and don'ts in gear, and giving me countless advice, about gear and life.
Francis or MD as I sometimes call him. For giving me a chance in the worship team.
The rockers, for the awesome headbanging moments.
Sam, for being there for me when I needed someone. For being a brother.
The youth, for the short distance we've come, and the journey ahead.
Sau Mun, for choosing me as camp commander back in 2012.
Wes and Mel, for the many times he's prayed for me when I was most broken. For being supportive when all that surrounded me were questions and doubts.
Esther, for forcing me to lead worship and teaching me how to lead the youth.
Lionel, for inspiring me in the little things.
Jarren, for choosing me as his worship coordinator for camp in 2011. That small opportunity sparked major growth spiritually. And also for all the encouragements in guitar and singing.
The 4 pigs, for cheering me up when I've been down, although they're a tad annoying at times. But it's all good. :)
Derrick, for setting an example to me, the youths, and generally every Christian.
My pastors/my uncle and aunty, for being so caring and supportive, and always able to give Godly advice. And y'know, leading the church.
Pastor Sergio, for the times he's delivered a personal God-given word to me.
Youth worship team, for being willing to serve God with their talents. Although we're small in numbers, we're BIG in heart and spirit.
Gong, for serving his heart out in the youth worship team. He's gonna inspire.
Joyce, for giving me advice on studies, and life in general. And also encouraging me ever since I started playing guitar in the team.
Malaysia. Tanah tumpahnya darahku. Enough said.
SR 13, session 2 worship team, for the awesome memories serving in rally. It was my first and last time serving in rally, and it was great.
Eu Win, for really being a brother. For listening to my rants, for giving sound advice, and our #langkawee memories.
Tim, for being there for me. Only few have seen me break down in tears, and only to he, have I shared one of my dirty little secrets.
CF gang, for the beautiful and much-missed memories.
Jabba the cat, for the stupid and crazy memories we had in form 4 - 5.
NS, for the experience. Rappelling is the shizznit. And of course, M16.
Jamtank. Where else to buy second-hand gear? My whole board is second-hand lol.
Good food. Self-explanatory
Football. The beautiful game. For all the jaw-dropping and heart-stopping moments.
Teachers. Who motivate, who inspire.
Awesome music. Namely, Switchfoot. Give them a listen, and all will be explained.
Pastor Jason, for teaching me sooo much about worship and inspiring me to dare to dream.
Petra, for prophesying over me that one day I'll be leading worship. And also all the encouragements.
Kids church, serving in the worship team. For always making me smile. HIS Church kids are too cute.
My talents, not much but it's more than enough for me.
Mother Nature, for all its beauty.
Uncle Koh, for giving me my first amp, and advising me on playing guitar. Would've loved it for you to be around for much longer, but God wanted you back earlier. Hope you're rockin' hard up there.
Aunty Beng, for giving me my first guitar. Sparked a love, and I still have it with me now.
The constant advancement of technology. Where would we be without planes? cars?? air-cond??? proper flushing systems??!!
One..two..yeap looks like 50 to me.
God, for just being Him; for making me; for the endless things I can't list down..
Jesus, for dying on the cross for me. For not condemning me, but loving me.
The Holy Spirit, for dwelling in me, guiding me every moment.
My dad, despite our constant arguments, he's sacrificed much for this family. That counts for something.
Mum, for always supporting me, advising me, staying patient with my temper, and being that voice of God when I go through dry spells.
Bruh, for all the games he's helped me download.
My cats, for being the cutest things in the world.
My Yamaha, aka my first guitar. For bringing me through my lowest points, aiding my emo moments.
My Spear, aka my electric. For bringing me through moments like Rally and such. For making me feel that bit much of a rockstar.
My gear, for making me sound good, when I really sound like crap.
The piano at home, also for aiding my emo moments. Because some songs are meant to be played on the piano only.
HIS Church, my second home. Seen me grow, fall and so much more to come I believe.
The worship team, for helping me grow spiritually and musically. For teaching me teamwork and unity.
Jeremy. My sifu. For teaching me the dos and don'ts in gear, and giving me countless advice, about gear and life.
Francis or MD as I sometimes call him. For giving me a chance in the worship team.
The rockers, for the awesome headbanging moments.
Sam, for being there for me when I needed someone. For being a brother.
The youth, for the short distance we've come, and the journey ahead.
Sau Mun, for choosing me as camp commander back in 2012.
Wes and Mel, for the many times he's prayed for me when I was most broken. For being supportive when all that surrounded me were questions and doubts.
Esther, for forcing me to lead worship and teaching me how to lead the youth.
Lionel, for inspiring me in the little things.
Jarren, for choosing me as his worship coordinator for camp in 2011. That small opportunity sparked major growth spiritually. And also for all the encouragements in guitar and singing.
The 4 pigs, for cheering me up when I've been down, although they're a tad annoying at times. But it's all good. :)
Derrick, for setting an example to me, the youths, and generally every Christian.
My pastors/my uncle and aunty, for being so caring and supportive, and always able to give Godly advice. And y'know, leading the church.
Pastor Sergio, for the times he's delivered a personal God-given word to me.
Youth worship team, for being willing to serve God with their talents. Although we're small in numbers, we're BIG in heart and spirit.
Gong, for serving his heart out in the youth worship team. He's gonna inspire.
Joyce, for giving me advice on studies, and life in general. And also encouraging me ever since I started playing guitar in the team.
Malaysia. Tanah tumpahnya darahku. Enough said.
SR 13, session 2 worship team, for the awesome memories serving in rally. It was my first and last time serving in rally, and it was great.
Eu Win, for really being a brother. For listening to my rants, for giving sound advice, and our #langkawee memories.
Tim, for being there for me. Only few have seen me break down in tears, and only to he, have I shared one of my dirty little secrets.
CF gang, for the beautiful and much-missed memories.
Jabba the cat, for the stupid and crazy memories we had in form 4 - 5.
NS, for the experience. Rappelling is the shizznit. And of course, M16.
Jamtank. Where else to buy second-hand gear? My whole board is second-hand lol.
Good food. Self-explanatory
Football. The beautiful game. For all the jaw-dropping and heart-stopping moments.
Teachers. Who motivate, who inspire.
Awesome music. Namely, Switchfoot. Give them a listen, and all will be explained.
Pastor Jason, for teaching me sooo much about worship and inspiring me to dare to dream.
Petra, for prophesying over me that one day I'll be leading worship. And also all the encouragements.
Kids church, serving in the worship team. For always making me smile. HIS Church kids are too cute.
My talents, not much but it's more than enough for me.
Mother Nature, for all its beauty.
Uncle Koh, for giving me my first amp, and advising me on playing guitar. Would've loved it for you to be around for much longer, but God wanted you back earlier. Hope you're rockin' hard up there.
Aunty Beng, for giving me my first guitar. Sparked a love, and I still have it with me now.
The constant advancement of technology. Where would we be without planes? cars?? air-cond??? proper flushing systems??!!
One..two..yeap looks like 50 to me.
Saturday 12 July 2014
open, close
Eyes wide open in the dark.
The distinct droning of the fan filled the room, almost mimicking the sound of rain. The cool, crisp air reached my nerves sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my blanket over my head to try to keep myself warm. I can hear my cat stirring in its sleep, lying right below me. Outside, the howling of dogs pierce through the stillness of the night. Chilling. What followed was a rumble and the sound of metal clanging. I rubbed my eyes with bare knuckles, seeing stars in the process.
I groaned.
What time was it? I reached underneath my pillow, groping for my phone in the darkness. I grasped something, but it wasn't my phone. What it was, was a crumpled piece of paper. I straightened it, and traced the wrinkled lines with a finger. Such fury.
I reached for the lamp at my bedside slowly, careful not to awaken my beloved furry feline. Let there be light, I whispered as I turned on the lamp, and the sudden brightness almost startled me.
Now, where did I put my glasses? Ah, there it is.
I read the note twice through. I thought I had thrown it away? And with it the memories, gone for good? Yet here it is again, back to haunt me. Good intentions, bad decisions. Making me what I am, right here, right now.
I touched a hand on my forehead as a searing pain began to sting my noggin. I was clearly feeling the full force of last night. Alcohol is sometimes like sleep. It gives the user a temporary escape from life and all its bullshit. Helps one ignore his problems. Because there is solace in ignorance, yes? Alas, too much of either can result in a god-awful migraine.
Screw it, I mumbled to myself, as I reached under my bed grabbing a bottle by the neck. I upended it, but nothing seemed to flow. Darn, ran out again.
I left the bottle at my side and closed my eyes tightly, not even bothering to turn off the lamp. If not the former, then the latter right?
'Let me return to sleep then, my momentary escape,' I muttered.
I groaned.
What time was it? I reached underneath my pillow, groping for my phone in the darkness. I grasped something, but it wasn't my phone. What it was, was a crumpled piece of paper. I straightened it, and traced the wrinkled lines with a finger. Such fury.
I reached for the lamp at my bedside slowly, careful not to awaken my beloved furry feline. Let there be light, I whispered as I turned on the lamp, and the sudden brightness almost startled me.
Now, where did I put my glasses? Ah, there it is.
I read the note twice through. I thought I had thrown it away? And with it the memories, gone for good? Yet here it is again, back to haunt me. Good intentions, bad decisions. Making me what I am, right here, right now.
I touched a hand on my forehead as a searing pain began to sting my noggin. I was clearly feeling the full force of last night. Alcohol is sometimes like sleep. It gives the user a temporary escape from life and all its bullshit. Helps one ignore his problems. Because there is solace in ignorance, yes? Alas, too much of either can result in a god-awful migraine.
Screw it, I mumbled to myself, as I reached under my bed grabbing a bottle by the neck. I upended it, but nothing seemed to flow. Darn, ran out again.
I left the bottle at my side and closed my eyes tightly, not even bothering to turn off the lamp. If not the former, then the latter right?
'Let me return to sleep then, my momentary escape,' I muttered.
sorry
It's amazing how the simple act of saying sorry can leave me feeling so relieved. It's never easy to be the first to say sorry. But when you do, believe me, you'll feel soooo much better.
It's about breaking down my pride, laying down my ego.
And in doing so, forgiveness welcomes me with open arms.
It's about breaking down my pride, laying down my ego.
And in doing so, forgiveness welcomes me with open arms.
Tuesday 8 July 2014
so cliché, so true
You said hi today, just as I was getting into the car. You shouted my name and waved like a crazy woman, just like you promised you would.
Frankly, I was shocked. To see your face; to hear your voice again. And how happy you were to see me. All I could bring myself to was a weak smile and a wave. I blame my slow reflexes.
I still get butterflies in my stomach whenever I see you.
Still not over you, it seems.
Frankly, I was shocked. To see your face; to hear your voice again. And how happy you were to see me. All I could bring myself to was a weak smile and a wave. I blame my slow reflexes.
I still get butterflies in my stomach whenever I see you.
Still not over you, it seems.
Monday 7 July 2014
being honest
I'm far from satisfied with where the youth is right now. You can't say we're still a young youth group. Come this year, we're about 7 years old. I look at other churches, and I envy them to be honest. I envy the numbers, the stuff they do. Inspiring, yet demotivating at the same time.
Sam and I had a proper catching up this Saturday. Talked about what we've been up to, where we've been, basically life in general. Then, we talked about the youth.
Been wanting to say this for a long time, and Sam took the words right out of my mouth. It breaks my heart to see the state of the youth now. We have our reasons; reasons that I feel shouldn't be shared here. But one can guess.
And this has been going on for years. How the youth never seems to show any growth. Stagnant.
This needs to change. We need to change.
Sam and I had a proper catching up this Saturday. Talked about what we've been up to, where we've been, basically life in general. Then, we talked about the youth.
Been wanting to say this for a long time, and Sam took the words right out of my mouth. It breaks my heart to see the state of the youth now. We have our reasons; reasons that I feel shouldn't be shared here. But one can guess.
And this has been going on for years. How the youth never seems to show any growth. Stagnant.
This needs to change. We need to change.
19/6
One of the few highlights of my time in NS: Jamming Switchfoot's 24 under the stars of the night. A beautiful moment. Heck, make that a highlight of my life.
It's the tiny, insignificant things that make life so beautiful.
Then the mosquitoes came and we buggered off.
It's the tiny, insignificant things that make life so beautiful.
Then the mosquitoes came and we buggered off.
~
Thursday 3 July 2014
16/6
I finished the first three volumes of Jeffrey Archer's The Clifton Chronicles in 2 weeks. Feeling quite proud of myself to be honest.
Oh and I read Twilight. Kinda understand why many teenage girls love it. But good gosh Bella's annoying.
Oh and I read Twilight. Kinda understand why many teenage girls love it. But good gosh Bella's annoying.
~
14/6
So today was the last day of the 'Kelas Integrasi' module, and the teacher asked (actually, begged was more like it) the class to share about what we personally learned throughout what was a — let me be honest — dreadful five days. Dreadfully boring, that is. Neither of us did so much as flinch. And so, as per usual, she went on a 15 minute (I kid you not) rant. The only difference this time round was that she said something that struck me. Wait, make that some things..
She opened her rant with a 'revelation' to the class about how our nenek moyang used to live peacefully together, regardless of race. She said that Malay parents, rubber tappers specifically, used to leave their kids to their Indian neighbours to be taken care of, as they went to tap rubber. Likewise, Chinese families left their children to their Malay neighbours as they went off to cari makan. Which made me think, do Malaysians still do that? And as I spent some time thinking — not daydreaming, big difference — I wondered how many of my Malay 'friends' are actually my friends? How many would actually invite me to their wedding? Not many, I realized.
Then, she said something that really caught my attention. She gave her opinion on why we refused to speak up, specifying by race. For the Malays, she said that they were 'berlagak' in the way that since the majority of the class and all the teachers are Malay, they develop a 'tidak apa' attitude towards the activities and discussions, hence, not paying attention. Next she said the Indians were too scared/shy to share their opinion because they were just a minority in the class. And it's true; out of the close-to-50 students only two of them were Indian.
For us Chinese, she said we were, in a way, shy. That we were uncomfortable to share our opinion with the teachers simply because they were Malay. I would have shot up to my feet at this 'cause it made us sound incredibly racist. But then again, she was kinda right. She continued, saying that if the teachers were all Chinese, wouldn't you guys be talking so much more? Something I nodded my head in agreement to. And it's not so much about the language barrier, but more to cultural differences.
Now take that concept, and apply it to Malaysia's current situation.
Oh and I want to make it clear that she was not in any way being racist. Even the manner in which she ranted was.. as polite as it gets.
And now here I am, writing this sentence, thinking about what the future holds for Malaysia.
What's He up to?
Hm. I guess NS classes aren't all that bad.
She opened her rant with a 'revelation' to the class about how our nenek moyang used to live peacefully together, regardless of race. She said that Malay parents, rubber tappers specifically, used to leave their kids to their Indian neighbours to be taken care of, as they went to tap rubber. Likewise, Chinese families left their children to their Malay neighbours as they went off to cari makan. Which made me think, do Malaysians still do that? And as I spent some time thinking — not daydreaming, big difference — I wondered how many of my Malay 'friends' are actually my friends? How many would actually invite me to their wedding? Not many, I realized.
Then, she said something that really caught my attention. She gave her opinion on why we refused to speak up, specifying by race. For the Malays, she said that they were 'berlagak' in the way that since the majority of the class and all the teachers are Malay, they develop a 'tidak apa' attitude towards the activities and discussions, hence, not paying attention. Next she said the Indians were too scared/shy to share their opinion because they were just a minority in the class. And it's true; out of the close-to-50 students only two of them were Indian.
For us Chinese, she said we were, in a way, shy. That we were uncomfortable to share our opinion with the teachers simply because they were Malay. I would have shot up to my feet at this 'cause it made us sound incredibly racist. But then again, she was kinda right. She continued, saying that if the teachers were all Chinese, wouldn't you guys be talking so much more? Something I nodded my head in agreement to. And it's not so much about the language barrier, but more to cultural differences.
Now take that concept, and apply it to Malaysia's current situation.
Oh and I want to make it clear that she was not in any way being racist. Even the manner in which she ranted was.. as polite as it gets.
And now here I am, writing this sentence, thinking about what the future holds for Malaysia.
What's He up to?
Hm. I guess NS classes aren't all that bad.
10/6
Giles took a deep breath as he climbed the steps of City Hall. Whatever the outcome, he mustn't forget to thank the many people who had supported him, whose only reward would be victory.
He recalled Old Jack's words after he'd scored a century at Lord's: anyone can be a good winner.
The sign of a great man is how you handle defeat.
He recalled Old Jack's words after he'd scored a century at Lord's: anyone can be a good winner.
The sign of a great man is how you handle defeat.
Wednesday 2 July 2014
7/6
'I didn't leave my room for the next three days. I didn't respond to gentle knocks on the door. I didn't answer the telephone when it rang. I didn't open the letters that were pushed under the door.
It may have been inconsiderate of me not to respond to those who had only kindness in their hearts,
but sometimes an abundance of sympathy can be more overwhelming than solitude.'
It may have been inconsiderate of me not to respond to those who had only kindness in their hearts,
but sometimes an abundance of sympathy can be more overwhelming than solitude.'
4/6
I swear.. one of the best things to do in life, is to read a good book as it drizzles lightly, accompanied by a hot drink; warms the body and the soul.
~
20/5
'You seem more...optimistic than usual,' I observed. 'I haven't seen you like this before.'
'Isn't it supposed to be like this?' He smiled. 'The glory of first love, and all that. It's incredible, isn't it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in pictures, and experiencing it?'
'Very different,' I agreed. 'More forceful than I'd imagined.'
'Isn't it supposed to be like this?' He smiled. 'The glory of first love, and all that. It's incredible, isn't it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in pictures, and experiencing it?'
'Very different,' I agreed. 'More forceful than I'd imagined.'
Tuesday 1 July 2014
17/5
You had a surety in your speech, and you seemed to know what you want; what you will do in the future. You spoke with such charisma in front of others, yet still able to be so adorable at times.
And so I find myself lying in bed again, thoughts swirling around my head. Whenever I have time on my hands, it's as though a light switch goes off in my head and the thoughts come running loose. But ask me to put it into words, and all I can muster is a blank stare. That's something I resent about myself. My disability to explain my thoughts. But I digress.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Lying in bed, thoughts free-flowing. As dark clouds gather, threatening to rain down, the mood in my dorm takes a sombre turn. Loving the atmosphere, I plug in my earphones, shutting out the world. The first song plays and memories of how I used to sing this song thinking of you resurface. I was young and foolish — wait, I still am.
Sigh. And now I find that my thoughts are wholly on you. I realize that this feeling has become all too familiar. I miss you. Your laughter never fails to brighten up the moods of people around you, me included. I miss how simple things make you laugh aloud, resulting in you trying to withhold it, your face flushing in the process. And your voice — my God, how lovely you sound when you sing. I swear I had a full list of songs I'd sing to you, and with you. Romantic-sounding, yes?
But when I think about it, it never looked like we fit.
Damn you, brain. Stop thinking.
And so I find myself lying in bed again, thoughts swirling around my head. Whenever I have time on my hands, it's as though a light switch goes off in my head and the thoughts come running loose. But ask me to put it into words, and all I can muster is a blank stare. That's something I resent about myself. My disability to explain my thoughts. But I digress.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Lying in bed, thoughts free-flowing. As dark clouds gather, threatening to rain down, the mood in my dorm takes a sombre turn. Loving the atmosphere, I plug in my earphones, shutting out the world. The first song plays and memories of how I used to sing this song thinking of you resurface. I was young and foolish — wait, I still am.
Sigh. And now I find that my thoughts are wholly on you. I realize that this feeling has become all too familiar. I miss you. Your laughter never fails to brighten up the moods of people around you, me included. I miss how simple things make you laugh aloud, resulting in you trying to withhold it, your face flushing in the process. And your voice — my God, how lovely you sound when you sing. I swear I had a full list of songs I'd sing to you, and with you. Romantic-sounding, yes?
But when I think about it, it never looked like we fit.
'I can't hear music anymore.
My eyes are tired of all the pictures in the words cause you are in them,
still.'
Damn you, brain. Stop thinking.
17/5
'Better to grow your crops rather than cry out for men like Pompey to give you food.
It's a sickness in us, you know.
We always raise unworthy men to rule us.'
It's a sickness in us, you know.
We always raise unworthy men to rule us.'
14/5
'Though he had not thought the loss could touch him, there was a dull pain somewhere deep. All the foundations of his life were being removed and part of him would always want to go back.
He tried to stifle his thoughts as the men with him took seats on the benches. Marius would have berated him for that sort of weakness. The past was comforting because it was safe.
It was also dead and gone.
There were no mysteries to be found there.'
He tried to stifle his thoughts as the men with him took seats on the benches. Marius would have berated him for that sort of weakness. The past was comforting because it was safe.
It was also dead and gone.
There were no mysteries to be found there.'
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