inumeracy

a mark on a blank surface.

2012-01-07T00:52:00.001-08:00

sometimes encouragement comes from the least expected places.

like extended family whom you'd usually think would discourage you from pursuing such a dangerous career choice. To take up the challenge of exploring beauty in life - and making a living out of that - getting approval for it really counts for something. I am blessed.

how satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface.
To make a map of my movement-
no matter how temporary.

~ blankets. | craig thompson

i hope.

2011-11-29T21:38:00.000-08:00

you say you want
diamonds and a ring of gold,
your story to remain untold,
your love not to grow cold.

but all the promises we make, from the cradle to the grave;

when all i want is you.

the colour of the corn.

2011-11-19T21:23:00.000-08:00

* * * * * *

So the little prince tamed the fox.

And when the time for him to leave was approaching:

"Oh!" said the fox. "I am going to cry."

"It's your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"I know," said the fox.

"And now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"I know," said the fox.

"So you have gained nothing from it at all!"

"Yes, I have gained something," said the fox,

"because of the colour of the corn."

* * * * * *

~ the little prince.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

fumbling (hopefully) no more.

2011-09-30T11:24:00.001-07:00

thank you junyu.

your gallery of work showed me beauty;

simple and honest art.

you had one, pure, sincere emotion - and you expressed that magically.

it was beautifully humbling, in one phrase.

arguably,

i've tried too hard,

thought too much,

played too carelessly.

i attempted growing a great tree without finding the proper soil.

more than ever, i feel like a little child fumbling mindlessly in a playground.

a big huge, visual arts playground.

perhaps it was necessary; it was fun whilst it lasted.

but you've pushed me further.

thanks.

the last.

2011-09-26T11:25:00.000-07:00

one boy whistles,

the other patters paint onto his canvas.

it is the last.

let us go out quietly then.

Great No. 14

2011-09-23T06:41:00.000-07:00

in the art room:

tonight the great race ends.

i shall complete Great No. 14 and rest easy.

zants.

2011-09-23T06:39:00.001-07:00

there was an ant track in the art room.

i destroyed their path by flicking water from my brush bottle all across their path.

now they are dead ants in dilute acrylic.

gotta get my head out.

2011-09-17T00:57:00.000-07:00

naptime.

2pm-330pm.

dream one:

i wake up and clamber out of under the table. my huge square canvas was supposed to have my painting. but now there was a huge sbs-colour scheme truck face. david says, "ahah ryan while you were sleeping i painted your painting! Now you can't diss junyu and i for painting for each other!"

dream two:

we're all invited to a gala dinner. not before david and i scramble and fight in the newly renovated year 5 art room, second storey. a couple of new art students are looking at us but we do not care.

dream 3:

we're all gathered in the year 5 studio room. Z is in a summer dress. very nice short hairstyle. looks strangely like emma watson. sien asks, "hey ryan, ryan! (bites lip, raises eyebrows) should i tell her about my point system?"

"yeah sure."

(sien runs off after her.)

a week left.

2011-09-16T12:26:00.000-07:00

today, i woke up at 9.40am.
all i recalled at that moment was dreaming about junyu and the rest of the art gang at wahchee.
i don't remember the plot of that dream.

i finished cooking and eating breakfast at 11.40am.
i fell asleep again for another 1 and a half hours.
this time i dreamt again about the art people and the art room.

i woke up at 1 to have lunch. it was hearty.
fell asleep again at 140. short nap till 2.
can't remember what the dream was but it was about art. again.

over-saturation?

david's right; let's take this slow.

anyway i'll miss it nonetheless.

35 more days.

2011-08-28T09:57:00.000-07:00

; i am overtired

of the great harvest i myself desired.

~ after apple-picking | robert frost.

beauty.

2011-08-19T20:12:00.001-07:00

only in subtlety do we appreciate strength.

slowly dissipating.

2011-08-07T03:53:00.000-07:00

i love it when they seem so distant, vast, and magically still,

that they make the sky seem even more so.

observation.

2011-08-07T00:42:00.000-07:00

i think a child just might have the best observation skills around.

when we're born into this world,

everything is fresh, new, unfamiliar, and most of all,

uncomfortable.

by sheer instinct babies react to anything they're not comfortable with.

they're on high alert for just about anything, albeit their mother's embrace.

all too often when i see babies, or even young children, their eyes are wide, alert, and darting.

and it is this unfamiliarity, this sense of fresh exposure, that allow their traveling eyes to capture their surroundings.

as we grow, antiquity and familiarity moss over the world, like a veil of dust.

our eyes droop - we look at our feet - and the child-like shine we once had disappears.

and perhaps only returns every once in a while we play tourist.

even the artists, as much as we strive to observe,

grow bored,

grow tired,

grow old.

we attempt to observe the usual in unusual ways,

but might fail to re-capture the freshness, magic, and enchantment little children all too plausibly see everyday.

as children, we observe what we genuinely want to, what we need to.

as we become old, it is likely we observe what we think we want to,

what we think we need to.

conditioning is inevitable, yet somehow necessary.

we shall make do.

let's not grow too fast.

elitism.

2011-07-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

if we should seclude ourselves,

build our walls,

sensationalise our hermit ways-

what is this all then?

melodrama?

pretension?

romanticism?

elitism?

i consciously claim that it is mere difference that separates us.

perceived difference leads to elitism only when it causes elevation.

but perhaps elevation has resulted from our constant tendency of over-sensationalisation.

is it then not just child's play?

or does it reach into far more malicious, self-conceited depths?

then the question lies if we are too obsessed with the all too common tumblr-driven hormone,

or if it is a genuine need/issue that one cannot deny.

i would argue the latter, but i cannot deny the effects of the former.

hah but eitherways we're enjoying it aren't we.

so many dreams.

2011-07-23T09:21:00.000-07:00

i want to do too many things with my life,

i can't decide on one thing to solely focus on.

- the adolescent tempt to immortality;

too sweet, too sweet.

2011-06-20T08:51:00.000-07:00

got to get out.
this generation

-painful, painful;

fury like a hornet's sting

quick to point; and fling

-impulsive adolescence

hides its face behind an orgy of

misplaced hormones

dance, dance

till the sweat of your pits

turns to drunk fits

and the nausea swirls up, up

from the deepness of your being

which you question

from the very

beginning.

get out, get out.

wake up, wash up.

- begin again.

everything.

2011-06-02T10:18:00.000-07:00

it is time.

we have waited,

we have yearned;

purposeful freedom duly earned.

smiling we thought we had it all,

yet realise there's time to learn.

- everything has it's due turn.

the littlest task should never refute its call.

for all that

pistol of passion fires

in our unborn desires,

(they creep across the white,

in our cubby hole they hide);

we cannot lie-

or pretentiously deny-

the weight of each moment,

the essence of each laugh,

the pang of nostalgia

the languor of hysteria.

do not brush these aside,

everything has its due turn.

for as long as we create our pride;

you prepare-

purposeful freedom.

are you dying.

2011-05-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

switz: how many a'ya are dyin'!

fud: i'm dyin!

switz: are ya' dyin!?

fud: i'm dyinnn'!

suspension.

2011-05-22T07:32:00.000-07:00

loosely dappled,
silkily sewn,
carefully plumed,

suspended against;

the upper blankets tempt me away

suspended against a wash of colours

it is never known;

i despise this suspension.

blend not.

2011-05-17T04:29:00.000-07:00

i like how

the sky is blue on one side

and purple on the other.

my favourite part is how they don't even blend into each other

but just change.

- please keep me alive

strange dream.

2011-05-16T20:54:00.001-07:00

i had a dream that i was deeply, deeply bored.

not just like, "i need to play a great computer game now" kinda bored.

but a, i'm bored of this reality,

i'm bored of this life,

kinda bored.

throughout the dream, i was in my room,

trying to do work,

but each time i tried i just couldn't focus.

it was a strange dream, because

i woke up today and realised i never had a dream more real.

my life before.

2011-05-14T04:20:00.000-07:00

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence,

a time of confidences.

~ bookends | simon and garfunkel.

recognise.

2011-05-08T08:49:00.001-07:00

art is not paint on a canvas,

smudge on an apron,

it's not detachment where we retreat to our little cave

and indulge away with our little brushes, colours, palettes.

we don't condemn the mathematician for formulating,

neither do we judge the scientist for experimenting,

in the end no one can say that these things aren't art either.

art is when you confess that you're daring to challenge-

that you're willing to not just follow but explore for yourself.

if the mathematician destructs the 1+1,

or the scientist offers the radical hypothesis;

likewise on the other hand if the painter paints the perfect mona lisa-

who's the artist?

art is a jungle exploration with scimitars, not a guided hike with insect repellent.

it is a passionate confession, recognition, that you're an individual.

just you, not this whole "collective entity which gives you your identity" schmitz.

everyone should be living art in whatever they do.

down to earth?

2011-05-08T08:46:00.000-07:00

and tom said- "do you or do you not want sugar?"

i replied- "i want the salt."

note to self.

2011-04-18T02:48:00.000-07:00

" For what it's worth -

it's never too late, or in my case too early,

to be whoever you wanna be.

there's no dying limit, you can stop wherever you want-

you can change or stay the same;

there are no rules to this thing.

we can make the best or the worst of it -

i hope you make the best of it.

i hope you see things that startle you

i hope you feel things you never felt before.

i hope you meet people with a different point of view.

i hope you live a life that you're proud of.

if you find that you're not -

i hope you have the strength

to start all over again. "

~ the curious case of benjamin button.

paradox of a man.

2011-03-31T09:17:00.000-07:00

i want to do everything yet dislike so many experiences.

i want to go everywhere but i want to stay right here.

i want to be immortal but have a time to die.

i want it simple; i want it complex.

i want to destroy; i want to create.

i am transitory yet i attempt stability.

i am a paradox of a man.

over-fantastical.

psychological nuances.

2011-03-08T01:49:00.001-08:00

"accept that the reality of this world does not fit your psychological nuances." - toj.

definitely true.

hard to accept.

i am feeling strange now. i am not at the deepest region of the pit like i was in my last post.

i am feeling strangely calm and peaceful, like everything's alright.

yet distant, like my seeking is still a wild dog on a leash, pulling far ahead, away from me.

and like this wild dog, my identity seeks to mark its territory everywhere;

i enjoy collecting my experiences.

like my wild dog,

i'm always excited to find a new place;

yet not content enough to settle there.

i think at the center of ourselves we are all still children -

intuitive enough to follow the heart's curiosity,

ignorant enough to believe that there can ever be a settling - a true contentment.

but always full of the energy to keep skipping along.

the same dream.

2011-02-28T10:15:00.001-08:00

it's more than just the fatigue of daily living;

it's more than just the drudgery of routine in life.

it's a striving, a seeking;

a yearning that caves down on itself in a realisation of hopelessness because maybe we're all just too fantastical.

my greatest fear, is living a normal life.

we are too ignorant--ignorance that leads to fear--to admit reality's grasp over our imaginative idealism.

not talking about the reality of making a living, i have no fear over that,

but the reality of living.

in years to come, it is possible that i'll look back on this and laugh, seeing some folly which the present self fails to realise, the folly of a dream.

but i fear who that man might be.

and that right now, this moment, dream-like as it might seem in the future, is everything in absolution at its purest form.

"...that they might go the fools among."

life as of now.

2011-02-20T01:50:00.000-08:00

whether its ignorance or strength

its hard to tell; could be an intertwining of both.

maybe ignorance is strength.

i could be better off not knowing.

transitory.

2011-02-06T23:56:00.000-08:00

I’m gasping in a dream
but the dream itself isn’t suffocating;
I’m just gasping in one.

delicate, surreal.

delicate.

Why is it all transitory.
where am I going;
where I am going-
What If.

gah.

2011-02-05T03:02:00.001-08:00

ib's not getting harder;

i'm getting lazier.

second home

2011-02-01T08:11:00.000-08:00

Art room

we’re all just mad; inadvertent
the speakers’ blast
harmonious melancholy;
what’s future, present, past
gets tangled up all in the strings.
like finely selected hair; dab, dab, dab;
as we jab, jab
our way through gelatin glass
like raindrops in near-stop motion
all round us
a little bit mad.

- a poem dedicated to the only subject i enjoy.

in and out of cocoon

2011-01-25T02:42:00.000-08:00

i ate my way out of

cocoon to see that

in a special place-

transitory, many-faced,

i am one in all,

weaved together,

hanging precariously

on a thread of existence.

i laugh

at how i dance

with it ever so frivolously.

i am in cocoon.

i am eating my way.

fight for (2).

2010-10-21T09:31:00.000-07:00

art is not a capability but a confession.

it's not whether you have talent, skill, ability or not - conventional, shallow, traits.

but whether you're willing to aspire, to admit, to choose, to fight.

and what makes art, art, is that it is a confession, that not just anyone, or everyone, is willing to speak, or make.

but if there did come a day, where everyone could/would confess.

art just might become that little bit less special.

fight for.

2010-10-06T19:04:00.000-07:00

who's to say what's

impossible

well they forgot;

future, present; present, future.

2010-09-25T00:27:00.001-07:00

the common belief is that, humans get so caught up in thinking about the future, that they forget to live for the present. therefore when we as students study, logically we're obsessed about our futures, and not about our presents. (In plural cos they're all different).

for me it's different. only when i live for the present can i study. for when i obsess and fantasise about my future, i do not need a high-paying job, neither do i need the top rung of the career ladder.

I just need something that'll let me live life, and not let life live me.

please not a desk job.

sick.

2010-09-18T02:14:00.000-07:00

my bones are weary

eat and thin

i cannot jump the trampoline.

for heights so tall i can't express

the solitude of my distress

and this imagined bliss i can't quite ascertain.

my knees are weary

weak and thin

i cannot jump the trampoline

i cannot jump this trampoline.

what are you fighting for.

simplistic and quaint.

2010-09-09T10:18:00.001-07:00

it's been more than a year. slightly more.

strangely, on the actual anniversary itself i didn't feel much. i barely felt anything.

like i observed before, it happens more in obscure moments. like tonight-

i ate a lonely late dinner again tonight.

came home late from doing art in school.

once again, like most other nights where i eat lonely late dinners (though i don't eat lonely late dinners on most other nights), i thought of my dad, and visualised him sitting in his usual spot.

and each bite of food felt awkward in my mouth.

i started thinking of all the things my dad and i would've done together if he were still alive, in the future. like maybe after ib, or ns, or uni. go fish. go exploring. go do something father-son like. then as i had a family- three generations bonding, him, me, and my children.

i started to miss the good ol' chats we used to have.

we never really chat about anything in particular.

but they were good nonetheless.

simplistic and quaint.

good chats.

grey curtain

2010-09-07T08:23:00.000-07:00

today i sat in my computer chair

as my eyes glided over the grey curtain

though finding nothing of particular interest

didn't know when to stop, or where.

indifference, when it comes,

is a funny thing.

the tv rays go straight through my head.

my hand writes, it is unfamiliar

with the chinese words it produces.

had i not written these words before?

a bit am i, out of sorts;

my head is tired filled with thoughts.

music, break these walls!

my heart crawls to sensationalise

can i sensationalize life?

does my indifference neutralise or reveal?

indifference when it comes is a funny thing.

neutralize! reveal!

fire the guns of tomorrow.

maybe then, a curtain could be more interesting.

i didn't know when to stop, or where.

but i guess here will do.

a bit i am, out of sorts.

deep inside.

2010-06-22T23:19:00.000-07:00

i think i really just want a simple life.

odyssey, msu, 2010, world finals.

2010-05-23T10:54:00.000-07:00

here we go again.

my fantasy.

2010-04-20T06:31:00.000-07:00

Agrestic.
-Pertaining to fields or the country; rural; rustic.

i always dream of living a life,
where i look at my feet and they're framed by grass
which is never still by the way always dancing
because when i look up the fresh gentle slap on my cheek reminds me so.
and the clouds hastily combed in the sky tell me so.

and in my mind i paint an open field to which my left foot belongs.
never still by the way, this field, always moving.
and i'm a foot's length away from a gurgling river to my right.
and i wonder if the cold water learnt its great secrets of refreshment from the wind.
which is never still by the way, always moving, both of them.
and even the mountain in the distance
which my feet ache to trek on, is not as stubborn as it looks.
for she too, (yes, she) moves oh so slowly, subtly and magically,
sweating a boulder, rock, pebble every now and then
trying on a new coat of ice
then always thinking it out of season when she sees herself in the mirror of summer.
yes, she too, moves.
and this happens several times.

this happens several times.
and i look at my feet.

and i realise my feet-

my feet can't move.

phantasmagoria.

2010-03-11T04:04:00.000-08:00

what a splendiferous word.

Phantasmagoria.
1. A shifting series or succession of things seen or imagined, as in a dream.
2. Any constantly changing scene.

ib, for one, feels a bit too surreal.

yeah i expected things to be different, just not to such an extent.
it's hard to explain, it's just the general feel and mood of it all.
there's a distance between you and everything else.

people drift in and out, new faces are seen in each class.
and then you go on to the next.
and the next.

you never eat with the same people during recess.
you all somehow apparently end school at different times.

you only see your form class for but a few periods (contact time, chinese, tok?)
then again not all of them.

it's almost like you get to know everyone,
yet no one, really.

at least for now.

i think a key reason is because of the huge shift from last year's culture.
which was all that i've listed up there's, presence of.
the class was with each other all the time,
each lesson
each recess,
each end of the day.
and our class chemistry was amazing, so it pretty much adds a punch of an effect to whatever's happening now.

i wonder if i'll ever find a class with better chemistry.
miss the days of 3.15-4.15

so, so, surreal indeed.

lo

2010-03-07T00:51:00.001-08:00

i jumped- and grabbed the fabric of the sky.
i pull- clouds, heavens from all corners fly,
and lo, in great gusto
behold

the universe.

who's to say.

2010-03-03T07:48:00.001-08:00

they can come at really random, out-of-place times.

like today, whilst i was reading the chinese passage on H1N1.
not even sure how it linked, i think H1N1 linked to hospital in my mind, and that linked to dad.

so yeah, strong emotional waves can hit at even the most out of place times like those.
and likewise, in the most 'relevant' times, like going to the columbarium, it is possible to not feel much.

i like this poem, i read on a friend's blog.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die.

-Mary Elizabeth Frye

beautiful.
i'm not belittling the idea of weeping at a grave.
however i cannot deny that i like the perspective Mary Elizabeth Frye presents.
i like it, i feel i can relate to it, in a way.
thanks, friend.

in a thousand winds that blow.

before the memories fade.

2010-02-22T06:27:00.000-08:00

i should pen down all the memories i have of my dad, before they grow dim.

as i ate supper today, i sat at the table alone.
and i was hit by this ancient memory, a lil' something which happened somewhere in primary 4 or so.

my round, marble-top dining table.
my dad, sat, roughly opposite me, a bit to the right.
and i probably had a sulk on my face.

it was lunchtime, i had just returned from school, and i was eating merrily (expressed in speed) when my dad sat down next to me, and scrutinised my less-than-appealing manners.
and then he told me how gentlemen should eat, and i was not eating like a gentleman, and it was bad manners, and i told him, dad i'm eating at home, it doesn't matter. and the likes.

but anyway he made me slow down, and raised his voice everytime the rate of my food-in-mouth replacing went too fast, or the speed of my spoon was too hasty (seriously). and i got so frustrated, cos the way i enjoyed my food was to stuff myself, so it was a pain to eat slowly.

well, he succeeded in that session, and many more onwards.
whenever he saw me eat a tad too fast again, at any meal time, his standard line would be, "Slowly, ryannn..."

I appreciatively chewed on my food as I savoured this memory tonight.
and smiled inwardly, seeing how my dad had succeeded.

thanks dad. (:

feels like a descending sort-of sorrow.

fragariaphobia.

2010-02-14T09:23:00.000-08:00

So i'm having dessert - korean strawberries.

And well ok the first thing i realise is, they're pretty sweet for strawberries. This is nice.

But then the SECOND thing i observe is how demented-looking they are.

They're elongated, and unlike your nicely shaped squat strawberries which are more or less balanced and generally symmetrical from every angle, they're kinda like, well, oddly-shaped.
after that, i felt a lil' scared biting one, cos of it's like, imposing, ominous, kinda aura.

so that gets me curious y'know, like if they can be so scary looking i bet some people are scared of them, and so i google "phobia of strawberries."

it's called "fragariaphobia." cool huh.

i just might have oh-so-slight fragariaphobia when it comes to korean strawberries.

gongxifacai, my valentine.

wow, i haven't posted in decades.

worlds.

2009-11-01T05:45:00.000-08:00

How many worlds

how many worlds--?
as a boy walks home
listens to music,
unraveling emotions, colours in the mind.
the wind waving whispers in his hair.
the world is all to him.

a man lounges on a void deck bench,
cigarette companion comfortably in hand.
his world is of indifference and addiction.

run children run.
of aimless adrenaline and fearless fun.
their world is of what is and is not to know.

the driver in the car driving across
is a mystery man masked equally by his sun-screened car window.
his/her world of destination, but detached.

woman entering the lift.
with swollen stomach sentry to new life.
her world split and conjoined to another world, yet to be framed.

a boy walks home,
listens to music,
unraveling emotions, colours in the mind.
the wind waving whispers in his hair.
how many worlds--?
the world is all to him.

so beautiful.

2009-09-26T01:04:00.000-07:00

i have a grandaunt, we call her "ji gou".
and we visit her every chinese new year.

not so long ago, sometime in the middle of this year-
on a sunday, our dad asked us not to make plans after church youth service, as ji gou had fallen ill, and was hospitalised.
he wanted us to go visit her as a family.

at the hospital, ji gou had seemed so different.
her hair seemed grey-er, and it was cut short, compared to the relatively vibrant curls we used to see every once a year.
even something about her face had changed-it was paler, and had lost that familiar spark.
her eyes that once squinted with happiness were now open, and sad.

my dad, knowing her the best, talked to her in dialect, asked her questions.
i watched, and flashed an occasional smile, touched her thin elderly hand.
i watched, and saw how my dad was just sitting there, beside her, continously exchanging words of dialect, continuously smiling at her with his bright face.
at one time, my dad intended to ask a nurse if visitors were allowed to bring in food and feed her, and would've done so if my mum hadn't pointed out that she was only allowed to take specific forms of food.
when it was time to go, we said our wishes and byes, my dad comforted her for a while more, and we left.

*************
a few months later-

as i sit on a chair near the casket, an elderly woman enters through the doors.
i only notice her, and recognise her as ji gou, when she arrives at the foot of the casket.
her hair was still cut short, just like in the hospital, and she looked more or less the same.

and as she reached the very side of the casket, she shifts her hands, to support her weight, and, with the support of others, shakily stands up.

her sad, open eyes looked down.

and in the few, brief, seconds she had to see my father's face...she did.

almost collapsing, she sat back into the wheelchair.
and was escorted away.

who would've guessed.

goodnight dad.

2009-09-08T08:32:00.000-07:00

on August 31, 2009, Monday, 7:26am, William Goh, my father, passed on.

and it's amazingly relieving to know, that he accepted Christ the night before, not as a last minute i-know-i'm-gonna-die sorta thing, but as an honest sincere decision. why? because he didn't know he was going to die.

my dad had sat down in the middle of the kitchen, his seat on a chair and his legs propped up on another one.

my maid had gone up to tell us. i was the only one who heard and/or was available, so i went down to check.

seeing him on the char in the middle of nowhere, i asked "dad, what happened?"

"it's okay, i'm okay. just need to rest for a while." (the words might not be exact, as i had just woken up.)

"alright." i hugged him. one last time.

i started on my way back upstairs, when he called after me.

"goodnight."

"haha, dad. we just woke up, it's 6am."

his fever had made him ever so slightly delusional.

i went back upstairs, had to dress for teacher's day, as i was supposed to emcee. but eh, it could wait, so i lay down for a while more.

five, ten minutes later, my maid comes rushing upstairs.

"Ma'm, ma'm! Sir collapse!"

the whole family rushed out of their rooms, zooming downstairs into the backyard.

he thought he had garnered enough strength to walk to one of his favourite spots in the house- the steps leading to the backyard. my maid, after supporting him there, left him, but even seated down he couldn't support his back upright.

our family gathered around him. people rushed in and out of the house. called ambulance. called my godma (dad's sis). mum started performing cpr.

"hello? 44 Jalan Kesoma." I said into the phone.

"6282 6491. yes, please come quickly."

"is he breathing?" the man on the other side asked.

"yes." i replied.

my mum exclaimed frantically, "barely!"

"barely!" i said into the phone.

"okay we're on our way now."

"yes, please come quickly." i said.

"okay."

i rushed back to my dad's side. mum was still performing cpr, russ and rach were crying, saying daddy please, daddy please, and crying out dad! dad!!! reuben held his right hand, tears streaming down, and told my distraught mother, "daddy feels very cold, mum."

i sat beside him, on the steps, holding his left hand, and kept praying, kept proclaiming Jesus' name, kept proclaiming that he won't go on that day.

ambulance came, doctors did cpr, loaded him onto the ambulance.

after calling our respective schools to tell them we couldn't go, my godma arrives shortly after on a cab, and then drives us on our parents' car to the hospial.

we wait anxiously for half an hour, while i keep building up faith that he won't die on that day.

and like a movie, the nurse calls his name.
"Goh Lye Guan?"

we follow her to a doctor, he slowly breaks the news to us in an ambiguous manner which becomes unambiguous when the word "death" is heard.

emotions shatter across the people.

i had not absorbed it yet because i was in some sort of denial.

"it can't be, it can't be. God like how You rose up Lazarus, like how You rose up the man's little girl, even if my dad's dead you can raise him up."

a while later, we're led in to see the body.

i touch him.
"daddy, wake up."

my mum's tearful eyes looked into mine and she said "ryan, don't ask dad to wake up, let him go peacefully."

and then i broke down.

and it's already been more than a week.
seems really recent, yet really long ago.

funny to think how his last words were like an accident yet not so. he didn't know he was going, after i left him he told my maid that he was going to the doctor later and told her that he wanted her to iron and ready his pants, etc.

how did he accept Christ?

well my mum felt it in her heart to share with him one more time the night before. so she did, and asked him if he wanted to, and he said ok, twice to confirm. she then prayed with him.

the following morning (his last), he told my mum how the numbness in his fingers had left him, and he proclaimed thanks to Jesus. he told my mum how various pain in parts of his body had left him, and he thanked Jesus, all as my mum recalls, in a child-like voice, one she never heard him speak in before.

well, i'll see you soon dad. thanks for accepting Christ, it's really heart-lifting. the human side of me wished that i could see the new-born you now, but God had called you back for a greater, better purpose.

and so, till I wake up on those golden roads, where the light is bright, and meet you again,

i'll have to say, goodnight, dad.

sad.

2009-08-16T03:27:00.001-07:00

isn't it just sad.

that all this time.
in cell groups.
in TNG.
in sermons.
in mission trips.

the leaders, major experiences, teachings, all these push into you so much.

and after so, so long of all this.

things like that, stupid, stupid things like that, happen, which shouldn't happen.
things that should never have started cos of our foundation in Christ.
Christ's LOVE.

this should not be happening.

this really, really, should not be happening.

sixteen. 16.

2009-07-30T04:58:00.001-07:00

HAHAHAHAHAH much amusing stuff has been happening on facebook really.
never been so amused by facebook stuff before. hoohoo. TAY man. T.A.Y.

AND WHY MUST SO MANY THINGS CLASH ON THIS SATURDAY.

- Faith Conference
- Flying Fox @ Sentosa
- Drama FOA
- NDP Preview

GAHHHHHHHH.
was asked to go to all but i think i can only attend one, and possibly not all of that one - the Faith Conference.
gonna receive much there. (:

oh and my 16th birthday was probably the best ever.
here's how it went.

i went school.
school ended.
marcus told me he needed to go my house and collect something from my brother, that evan (marcus' friend from ac barker) gave him.
i told him they couldn't stay long, cos i had tuition.
mok asked if he could too, as he was going east coast (his other house) to collect something, and toj decided to tag along since it'd shorten his trip (back then i had not registered that his house was IN BETWEEN my house and school, so this made no sense).

i reached home.
marcus bolted upstairs to my brother's room.
i walked up the stairs with toj and mok trailing behind.
my room door was closed, and i expected to open it, seeing russ passing marcus some kinda thing.
but when i did there were a dozen people staring at me.

i can't even remember what they exclaimed.
i only recall dropping my file, wallet, and even handphone, that was in my hands. then i could literally feel my heart slow down, and my face drain of blood, and i had to sit down to catch my breath.

haha, i've never really had my own birthday party before, let alone a surprise one.
my mum had cancelled tuition.
people from church and school were there.
it was crazy, haha.

we then went down for pizza and food.
afterwhich we chatted, stoned at the sofas, and then watched heather's and gracelynn's birthday music video.:P
then, the guys caught me and sauced me in the garden, and there was a kind of food fight after that, which resulted in many of us getting wet/dirty.
photos can be seen on facebook. :P
i'll upload a video soon, on the saucing, dunno who has the video on the surprise.

they couldn't stay long, cos then i celebrated dinner with my family.

but thanks guys.
thanks clement, thaddeus, brandon, tricia, joann, heather, gracelynn, hanya, toj, marcus, mok. (:
especially to heather, gracelynn and tricia who organised it.

thanks...a lot. a lot. really. (:
i enjoyed it very much. (:

whoever has the video of the surprise UPLOAD ON FACEBOOK CAN. thanks. (:

muse is an awesome band.

pulp stories II.

2009-07-11T08:36:00.000-07:00

my art teacher had asked us to go for an art exhibition by 11 June.

"Pulp Stories II."
At the Singapore Tyler Print Institute (STPI), a bit off clarke quay mrt station.
It was showcasing artwork by James Rosenquist and Frank Stella.

went on thursday, two days before it closed today, because i only remembered we had to go see it after the hols. :P

i don't usually go for art exhibitions...i think this may have been my first one.
haha luckily i found it, it was so hard to find, the entrance was at the corner of a steak restaurant, and the gallery was upstairs so you couldn't tell it was there unless you saw the corner entrance.

i never knew Singapore had this kind of... how say, ulu, little cosy places where you can do little low-profile stuff. the art gallery wasn't very huge, but it was good enough. it was really cool lah, there was barely anyone there, maybe me and 1 or 2 others. haha yeah, pretty ulu art gallery.

but i liked the art pieces.
i think Rosenquist had interesting ways of expressing his themes,
while Stella, mm, I just find his pieces more visually pleasing.
they both like to make use of their space, with rosenquist normally creating quite a open, huge space in his art, while stella crowding his space with many elements.

i think, in the gallery, i liked Stella's swoonarie series the best.
how it just developed from the 1st to the final 5th piece, wow the 5th piece was amazing. at first if you look at it directly it's a bit putting-off, but if you go from piece to piece it's really...awesome. well that's what i think.

anyway, the exhibition exposed me to "prints", something i hadn't even heard of, where they use high technology equipment to make layered, complex artwork. pretty interesting.

also, it helped me revise my definition of art, which was that art is a media used to express the artist's message. now, i see that art can be something as just an experimentation of visual form as well. because as humans, we live on visual information, and art is using that factor of ours, and experimenting, playing around, with it.

maybe i'll visit STPI again sometime.

it's next gallery is about "Eating Excess", so if you're interested you can just go check it out, details at www.stpi.com.sg. (:

till next time, goodbye.

crazy planets.

michael jackson died?

2009-06-26T00:59:00.000-07:00

hello.

i had a dream last night.
it went like this.

The whole church had gathered in a massive, brightly-lit hall, including me.
We were all anticipating something from an invited speaker.
But unexpectedly, as the speaker started speaking, he was very crude, using even the F words sometimes.

Russ came by, and told me something, which showed he was in a bad mood.
Clemon saw, and signalled him to go over to him and talk about it.

I had previously arranged to have supper and a haircut with clemon.
But he was still occupied with russell, so i had supper with my cell.
Jon Choy brought us into this empty air-con room, with one rectangle table and chairs around it, like a zen dining room.
Then he took out styrofoam food packets from his backpack, like, a lot, and he distributed it around the table, and the whole cell merrily ate the ta pao-ed food from unknown sources.
And after our meal, Jon Choy brought out even MORE packets of food. From his backpack.

But I went to find Clemon. He already had finished with russell and had his hair cut. With his new haircut came a new face. And then this girl in a pink blouse with short hair came over and he held her, but strangely like in a romantic way but in the dream it didn't feel romantic, cos he said "EH! our clique must hang out more, look at all our clique photos!". I did not recognise the girl.

Suddenly the scene switched to the walkway behind my house. But in the dream it was an underwater world. Everything was in a tinge of blue. I don't know how i breathed. And there were weird creatures everywhere. My foot, had a water slug thing attached to it. And this underwater salamander, took it as food and bit it. I do not know if the slug was my foot or not, or whether my foot just looked like a slug.

Then i took my other foot and stomped on the salamander that was trying to eat my other foot. And then it was squished and started bleeding, with blood coming out. I heard the Jaws soundtrack, and a sillouhette passed above. As i started trying to run away (my pace was really slow though, must have been cos it was underwater.) This really, really weird freak of nature, grabbed on to me. It was like an African child, and its appendages were a mix between tentacles and arms and legs. It just grabbed and clung there, like not wanting me to move.
Then like in a game a hint appeared and said, "Smash it's head on the ground."

So i did so, and each time i did there was a blood-curdling cracking sound. But it didn't die, it just got dazed, i managed to walk a few paces, and then it grabbed on again. All along with the sillouhette above continously lurking, and the Jaws music occasionally playing. But the thing that was grabbing me was freakier, only at the last part when I cracked it's head on the ground one more time, I walked, (because all this time i hadn't seen its face, it grabbed me from behind, and when I smashed it's head on the ground its face was mostly covered) and when I turned behind, I saw it's face, which was like all black, and its eyes, nostrils, and mouth were a sinister red.

Then I woke up, and was relieved.

I turned to my phone, and read the sms, "OMG MICHAEL JACKSON JUST DIED."
HAHAHAHA.

i couldn't help but think the "freaky child" theme in my dream was so relevant to him. Then again it's really quite amusing to wake up from such a dream and see that message.

baygon.

girl-bias.

2009-05-30T04:21:00.000-07:00

an old newness.

white light orbs flash across,
the concave contours of the,
glossy blue chairs like how,
pebbles skip across the water.

empty whispers in the dark rushing by
sometimes, screeching whispers,
not of people, meaningless yet scary to imagine if
it were real?

lean forward and take, breathe it in.
an old newness.

took circle line mrt on 28th, first day of opening of the marymount-bartley section.
pretty cool, new new smell of mrt is nice, the train colour's black some more.
i think for now, this will decrease my transport time between acsi and home by at least 5 mins, so that's about 55 mins now, awesome.

now for some interesting thoughts! :P

i have a theory right, that in most or some boys, there's this sense of girl-bias.
like basically, instinctively, boys will treat girls in a nicer way because they're...well, girls.

like for e.g., you'll normally see a friendster testimonial/facebook wall cliche conversation between a girl-girl, or a guy-girl, but not so often guy-guy.
you see guys going like "hey! how are you? remember me! met you at fusion!" to some girl, but you don't really see them doing that to other guys.
and then both parties will engage in some long wall/testimonial conversation which sounds super friendly-like/superficial. now i'm not saying this is WRONG, neither am i implying that it is at all disgusting to have friendly-like conversations with a girl (as a guy), just saying it could be a case of girl-bias.

excuses and explanations.
and then some guys will say stuff like "oh, cos' girls are so much easier to talk to." now i'll admit there's some truth to this, i mean not to get scientific-ky, but guys' are proven to be more event-oriented and girls, relationship-oriented. but if you are able to talk to that certain girl well, then you're just defeating your stereotype of guys being hard to talk to, unless you think all guys are hard to talk to except you. personally, i've tried before, girls generally do seem to be more receptive than boys. (for those i've talked to).

and there's the boys, who are really just...more effeminate? not that it's bad, it's just like a spectrum, seriously, doesn't have anything to do with gayness or anything, you can be manly and gay. yeah so ok in the case of effeminate boys, then yeah, i think they would click better with girls, but for most cases...i don't think it's the situation.

and just for the record, i personally think it's kinda stupid/sickening if a guy talks superficial stuff just for the sake of interacting with a girl, if it's unnatural and if it doesn't reflect his true personality.

now, i'm not denying that i have any girl-bias. i'm sure as a boy, i have some. but i still interact with boys, and do it the same way as with girls. sure, i adapt and have slight personality shifts in different relationships, but i believe it's individual-oriented, not gender-oriented.

haha, yep, something to think about.
oh this is not a personal attack to anyone, in case you thought it was, it's just a thought.

whooopee whee blast off it's the june holidays.

indie rock.

2009-05-18T04:05:00.001-07:00

hohoho, exams over. (:
these exams felt kinda weird. i think as the years progress on, we tend to adapt a slacker attitude towards these regular tests, because they just wear us down.
we as children need more FREEDOM.
it's the essence of youth!

starting to play Assasin's Creed on ps3. pretty cool game.
and yet chinese O's in two weeks. bah.

recently, life's been pretty interesting.
yet...normal.

checking out new bands now, from the indie rock genre.
- Arcade Fire
- The New Pornographers.
yeah, the latter's a little...different. but it's nice nonetheless.
haven't found the albums in Singapore yet though, I want Challengers by The New Porno.

an awesome song.

Wake Up - Arcade Fire
Somethin' filled up my heart with nothin',
Someone told me not to cry.
But now that I'm older, my heart's colder,
And I can see that it's a lie.

Children, wake up, hold your mistake up
Before they turn the summer into dust.
If the children don't grow up
Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We're just a million little gods causing rain storms
Turning every good thing to rust.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.

With my lightning bolts a-glowin'
I can see where I am going to be when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.

With my lightning bolts a-glowin'
I can see where I am goin'.
With my lightning bolts a-glowin'
I can see where I am goin'.

Better look out below!

beautiful song, do check it out, here's a link.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZD7CNRSq28&fmt=18

adios.

circling the edge of the never ending.

forget.

2009-04-16T04:45:00.000-07:00

the wind blows violently
all is still.
flashes and glimpses of light
dance across
your emotionless eyes.
forgetting anything
even though they can capture.
could you?
nay, not a chance.
for you, like your eyes.
forget it all.
the wind blows
and all is still
passing by your mild eyes
like wild lashing thoughts
in your mind.
maybe even forced.
just so you think you might care?
do you?
he's just amazing, doing all this.
are you even trying?

oh wait, maybe

you forgot.

fusion '09

2009-02-22T07:31:00.000-08:00

good stuff, good stuff.

mary gave up her utmost, even for the least of Him.
that's what our passion for God is about.
to worship and give Him all praise.

during worship i saw like, a painting of Jesus hanging on the cross.
and that stuck in my mind for a while.
it was a beautiful piece of art.

and at another point in time, there was this really sweet tangible presence of God i felt, somewhere in the early part of "Rain Down".

but worship really is not about jumping, about raising hands.
yes, we rejoice in the Lord, it's even said in the bible to rejoice!

it's about exalting Him, honouring Him, and just praising Him with all that you got.
it's about surrendering, about accepting, about acknowledging, Him, not just in that 30 mins but in your entire life.

worship is a reflection of life.

recently, i've been more spiritually dry cos' been busy and tired, but i'm recovering now.
haha and wow, the feeling of being spiritually dry is kinda...sian? haha.

it feels good to get back on track and eat the bread again. (:

thank you for the cross, Lord.

what .

2009-02-19T06:36:00.000-08:00

and never, ever say that to me again.

my fault? sure.

2009-02-19T04:26:00.000-08:00

you try something, and you make a mess.
she asks me to clear it up, cos when she saw it you weren't there anymore.

so i find you at the tv, and after asking you to go clear it up, i got distracted by the tv, and you didn't go anyway.

so she shouts for both of us not switching off electrical appliances, etc, and to once again, clear up the whole freakin' mess.
i tell you to go clear it again, and tell you to help me switch off the stuff that we both left on, better than 2 people going to do a one-man job right?

did i make the mess? no.
did you make it seem like i was obligated to clear it up with you? yes.
was i obligated to clear it up with you? no.
was i not, watching tv, and you still bu shuang me like the mess was my fault? |
did i deserve to take off my time to help you do something, just cos you can't enjoy the tv as well, yet i was not supposed to do it, and you told me to do it, complete with the courtesy of shouting and lack of manners?

and my computer.
did i miss something?
do i owe you anything?
i don't recall so.
so don't you act like it's your right.

why.
why must you do this.
and she goes stereotype me with yall.
and i suffer the shockwaves from you.
which really hurts.

please. stop.

a new chapter...

2009-01-03T07:42:00.000-08:00

hi 2009.

last year just zoomed by. probably the fastest year of my life.

and this year is going to be a year of mentorship.
i heard God say that.
it's going to be one where mentorship is a main theme.

looking forward to God in it. (:

i know i don't seem it.

but i do wish there was that common.

recent events

2008-12-20T00:10:00.000-08:00

wow. the holidays are really zooming by.

some recent events.

jon choy's birthday (haha, k, maybe not so recent)

this was really funny.
as in not the party itself, but the nature of how i actually managed to be there.
see, cos i was actually supposed to be in a camp.
and i thought there was no hope, cos once in the camp i thought i was gonna miss choy's birthday for sure.

then i somehow just asked my teacher if i could be excused.
then he contemplated and said yes, but gave a curfew (so i was excused for a few hours).
i was delighted.
ten minutes later i was crying.
because due to the rain, my teacher changed his mind, and i got all my hopes up for nothing, and i was sad lah.
NO i didn't cry in front of everyone.
but i was just darn sad cos it's like, eh, my cell leader's 21st bday man.

and then after i wiped up my tears and joined the rest, my teacher came up behind me and said - "if you can get someone to fetch you, then i'll let you go. if not, forget it lah, huh?"
so i decided to call my mum just in case she was nearby.
she was at home, but offered to take me!!!
Praise God for mummy.

and 40 mins later, i'm at choy's hse, in singlet, cap and slippers :P
cool right.

nong!!

nong came back!!!
we had dinner and a stayover.
nong left back to usa.

family trip (wow i nearly forgot this)

we went to malaysia, port dickson!! :D
it was fun, my first attempt at fishing and neaarrlly caught a crab.
we went go-karting, archery, paintball, jalan-jalan, pool (ball), pool (swim), all sorts of fun stuff. not so much like tourists, but just for fun.

good time of family bonding. (:

sharity gift box (Founder's Men Assessment)

we had 3 consecutive, full, days, of doing quite tiring stuff.

first day i did warehousing and pick-up.
fortunately, last two days we went to man the box at orchard rd, outside taka.
thank martin for his ideas and ways. haha.
it was darn weird lah, people do weird stuff to pass time, which i wanted to go into details but then decided not to. sorry! ;)

THE REAL CAMP.

woohoo, this was really good. no pun.
God gave me revelation, and started doing different things in my life.
God is so good man.
and it also gave me a chance to see how our cluster is growing, and how TNG is growing.
when God told me "TNG is growing", i felt so good. (:

TNG, you're growing man.

official cell gathering

thaddeus, go away. stupid nutcracker.
haha, kidding lah, i don't bear any thing against you. (:

yep, we had an official cell bbq to end of the year.
marcus burnt my arm with a chicken wing. A CHICKEN WING!
thinking about it, i now find the humour stronger than the pain.
i don't think anyone's been burnt by a chicken wing before.
if you have, please tag, i would like to know. :D

and yeah, we had cell sharing and reflection.
the cell was getting everything ironed out, everyone was confessing their wrongs, and dislikes for other cell members in the past, or generally.
and everyone just gracefully accepted the feedback.

jon choy shared about how we had to be in the "pressure-cookers" (like said, at the rhema seminar) because our generation has to rise up fast and grow into leaders, cos' these are the end times. and how he's very encouraged to see our cell growing. (:

sara said she'll always be there, and that we can go to her for girl problems, HAHA. =P

our cell is good man, i love my cell. cool people.
random, whacky and cool.
we're gonna grow. (:

faa

formally known as "Founder's Award Assessment".
we were tested on adventure, first aid, drill, uniform, general knowledge.
scary. had to mug eh.
some-more had cell gathering the previous night.

but it wasn't as bad as i expected.
things went well.
didn't get sent home for uniform. =P

yep. feel liberated now! hahaha.

alright, that's an update.
i'm off to write cards for post-camp people.

...strange, if i recall, this post's tone and language wasn't really like my normal one.
maybe i use more singlish when i'm happier and i talk about shallow-er stuff. =P

i got wild, loose, inside my head.

to the cross.

2008-11-16T06:40:00.000-08:00

recently, i had been feeling kinda bad, off and on, because i felt like a few of my friendships were straining...or the people involved were drifting apart.

and like... other family stuff.

but when i look to the cross,
and realise how Jesus was so rejected as well,
and people didn't appreciate Him for who He was,
although He was the Ultimate...

then i just feel comforted knowing that even if my friends don't fully appreciate me as much as i'd like them too, at least God appreciates me, and that's the best relationship. (:

and still, God works,
cos He showed me how my friend did appreciate me more than i thought. (:

so if any of you feel down because you feel under-appreciated, or feel like you're relationships are straining...
remember Jesus, and God's love, and lift all up to Him. (:

-------------------------------------------------------------

also, i realised how to confirm.
once again, if Christ and God is the focus.
i learn how to differentiate.
and i learn how to know.

and now i know, that i truly don't.
thanks to cremon (:
for reminding me that if it IS, it has to be GOD-CALLED.
and one has to control his emotions, at all costs.

because emotions are of the flesh.
but you want IT to be of God.
and i know that this liking, wasn't called by God.
so i fee liberated.

------------------------------------------

oh and service today was AWESOME.
you could feel God and the Holy Spirit just manifesting in the hall.
and i felt like God was watching pastor reuben just preach, and God was immensely proud.

worship was...convicting for me.
it made me realise i shouldn't be doing some things that i was doing.
not to distract my eyes with evil.
but to focus on the Spirit, on God, and on the cross.

to the cross we look.

speechless.

2008-11-12T00:37:00.000-08:00

connecTiNG camp.
the P6 Orientation Camp for PLMC, organised by the sec 3s, bridging the gap between SilverBoxes (children's service) and The Next Generation (youth service).
it's really been the highlight of these holidays so far.

well, camp comm. had to write reflections to be published in HeartBeat, so i submitted this, which pretty much sums up the camp...on a more formal tone.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Thinking about the P6 Orientation Camp, “ConnecTiNG”, really leaves me quite speechless, as there are just too many things to say.

We started planning this camp in August, and after all plans were finalized, the camp was executed from 7-9 November. For me, it felt like the camp was actually running for 3 months, because the whole process was just so amazing, and the people I was working with were awesome.

Even as I write this, I miss the camp, as there seems to be an emptiness somewhere, but I’m comforted in the fact that ConnecTiNG will live on, and that next year there will be new leaders to bring the new juniors in. (:

Well, there are two things that I would really like to say.

At the beginning of the camp, I for one, was extremely worried that the P6s would not have opened up. They all came with faces of stone, and through the first few icebreakers were withdrawn and unenthusiastic.

However, as the camp progressed through, and the games and group activities went on, their faces were loosened, and smiles appeared, until at the end of all, many even gave feedback that the camp was too short! I believe this camp has really started the journey for the P6s together as a cluster, and sown the seeds of bonding in their hearts. I’m thankful that this camp served as an effective bridge to an otherwise abrupt change from SilverBoxes to TNG, as now the P6s know quite a handful of their TNG seniors, and they’ve experienced the love that has been given to us through TNG, by God. (:

But one thing I did not expect, was to bond as a Sec 3 cluster so much more than I’ve probably ever done. This camp allowed me to know more of my cluster, and gave me the chance to interact more with them. Our cluster is really huge, but through this camp, I’ve talked to people I haven’t really talked to before, and strengthened existing relationships. This was really quite a pleasant surprise, because I only ever imagined bonding the P6s!

I feel so thankful to God and for God in this camp. He’s been so many things, and done so much for us! As we put our faith in Him, so did He stay faithful. He’s not only helped us bond the P6s, but he added in a spice and we were bonded in the process! It’s just…so amazing. From this camp, I realise this –

If we lift everything up to God, He’ll help you through it all, and even give more than you expected. (:

---------------------------------------------------------

okay.

now for stuff on a more casual tone, and that you wouldn't publish in a official magazine.

the camp was awesome!
i really didn't expect to miss it so much, it was only after everything that i realised how much it meant to me, and how much it did.

i'm gonna remember everyone in camp comm for something.

david - for your perseverance and patience, and still taking up worship. you own man.
heather - for your ariel-galore.
izabel - for being the first person to call me obnoxious. (heh, though i'm sure many others still at least think it).
hanya - for your moisturised bruise, and crazy endurance in handling games.
thaddeus - THAADEEUUS!!! *heather and hanya sighs*. HAHAHAHAH.
evan - for your parkour, and your mad skillz and SANDFLY!!! WOO! oh and the hugs!
bunny - for your peserverance in insisting that i didn't tell you i changed my founder's award dates! i did loh! everyone remembered!
joann - *tilts head and smiles cheekily, without exposing teeth*. (:

eh but y'all darn bad ah, both nights must go leave me out of your fun ):

1st night - go macs without me.
2nd night - not only did y'all have 2 hrs of fun while i was asleep, y'all MADE me sleep to WRAP ME UP. and it didn't even work!!! no fun lah.

sigh, i miss you camp comm.
at least we've already had one post-camp outing! (:
but i'm not sure how long we'll last as a camp comm...
but by God's grace, if some mystical bond does keep us together, that'd be great. (:

this camp was really amazing. i'm glad we managed to help the P6s feel comforted as they enter TNG, knowing that we're there, and that the love and fun they experienced at camp can be expected in TNG. (:

thanks, all of you guys, game leaders, group leaders.
yall were done good in your effectiveness, efficiency, and energy-feeding. (:

thank You God. (:
this was a good camp indeed.

"these kind of people i'll remember..."

I don't know what to call this post. really.

2008-10-30T23:49:00.000-07:00

sorry, i just need to collect my thoughts.

yeah, last night and this morning i was kinda frustrated.
cos i need to lead cell this Sunday, but i'm put down for worship.
and when i'm down for worship, i can't go cell.

so i only realised that the events clashed like a day after the second person informed me.
(i can't remember whether liz informed me about worship or choy informed me about cell first, they both informed me at start of the week, but i think choy did...not important now.)

and then, well, isn't it amazing how such a hoohaa is churned up just by two events clashing?
it seems so weird that, it could all be avoided if the timings were just a few hours different.

haha, to use an analogy, i think it's like ships.
if you have two ships who collided on sea, then there would normally be mass destruction, loss of lives, broken families.
but to think, if there were at least a few degrees different of turning the ship,
just a few degrees.
all that wouldn't have happened.

of course, in my case, the situation couldn't really be controlled.
i was annoyed, sad, frustrated, cos i wanted to sing, but also wanted to lead cell, though not as strong, but still did.

it was like, personal v.s. responsibility obligation.

i guess i wanted to sing cos it would've been my last time serving on the old roster, before newbies come in. would've been quite cool to sing one last time on the old roster. was also singing with heather, and we haven't sang much together before, cos somehow either of us always can't make it. haha, but we're good friends.

and i wanted to lead cell...cos of responsibility obligation. david couldn't make it, he had to prepare for O's, choy and sara also couldn't. anyway, choy probably told me before liz, so it's only right for me to do cell i guess.

this morning, i tried finding replacements. after asking a few boys (too many girls singing, so we needed boys, since i was out), i realised that 3 had O's, two were singing the next week, and dwight had his painful wisdom tooth. liz then told me that it was ok, i couldn't find a replacement. anyway we couldn't ask the new vocalists.

more complications, talked to heather, talked to choy, talked to liz.

after confirming that I couldn't do BOTH worship and cell,
and that david and sara really couldn't lead,

by 3:05pm friday, i concluded that i'm gonna do cell,
and i'll still be going for worship prac tonight, so it's not all so bad.
and anyway this is the best decision.
cos my want to do worship was probably more personal random want to do worship, rather than spiritual.

so yeah, i get to lead cell,
and at least attend worship in some sorta way(:

if you're still reading this post, you're quite champion.
this post is probably the most boring ever.
i don't think i've ever blogged so much about schedule.

...
have i?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

at worship prac, i realised a few things.

i hate these kind of situations because i'll have to choose one, and not do the other, resulting in the lack in at least one side-the side i don't choose.

although i felt comforted in the afternoon, i felt different at worship prac,
cos i realised by not singing there would be no male in the vocals
(i had seen this earlier, but didn't impact me so much yet).

and i realised i didn't just wanna sing cos of heather,
but because i really just enjoy serving in worship ministry,
and just singing, and having fellowship with my worship team.

but i also realised that, unlike cell, worship still had vocals and lyrics without me.
if i went for worship, there would be no cell at all.

so...yeah.
sigh, bb tmr.
i like bb, but i dunno.
sometimes i don't like certain aspects.

look!
a bear!

ANNOYING.

2008-10-15T03:17:00.000-07:00

ok i can't stand it, i need to rant about this thing that i am just urged to rant about.

so what's the point, of forcing you to do a heritage badge project, if they want you to APPRECIATE the heritage of Singapore.
i'm not insulting Singapore's heritage. In fact, Singapore is probably one of the places with such a diverse and rich heritage.

However, do they have to make this project compulsory?
I mean, it's not so bad to write a 500-word essay on it, that's still tolerable, cos' you admit that you'll learn something from that.

but making you take 2 photos of the monument with your face in the pic?
i mean, so what, they want proof that you actually WENT to this monument.
brilliant. and then?
most people, will just go there, take the photo, and go back home.
trust me, i asked.
how in the world does THAT help you appreciate!?
i mean ok lah, if you really are so interested that after photo-taking you go into the monument and snoop around learning to appreciate, then that's ok.
but isn't it obvious that the photo-taking won't PROVE that you've appreciated the monument, not in the least bit?
to those uninterested, d'you really think it'll make a difference?

that's why i really can't stand it when they make these projects compulsory.
you think making these people go smile in front of a building and converting it into pixels for one occasion really suddenly opens their mind to the appreciation of heritage?
No! you can't force these things like that!

i understand you have good intentions, but please, don't make it compulsory.
it just doesn't make good sense.

anyway, i refuse to go take that photo.

adaptation.

2008-10-13T08:55:00.000-07:00

do i adapt too much?

i tend to adapt to different people, mostly in the ways of speech.
like i will have different tones of voice, or different ways of speaking. different choices of words.

there's still a general code to how i speak, like without vulgarities, and no like heavy cheem or weird sincere "i lurbhhsxzxz euuzzx worhkszx" kinda language.
(haha, well sometimes i do use the latter for fun)

but do i adapt too much?

until people get different impressions of me, and i create false images of myself that i do not want to create?

what if YOU reading this right now, think i'm something which i'm not.

haha, maybe i'm thinking too much.
this evening i've been hearing/saying (in virtual terms) a lot.

i think i even adapt to my blog.
i might not seem the same in reality.

ohoho.
isn't it intriguing.

dum dee dum.

2008-10-06T02:19:00.000-07:00

YEAH HOO.

ONE MORE PAPER TO GO.

i feel weird...

sigh, thank God for the ending of the papers.

hopefully i won't fail any, cos that would result in concamp!

but i heard God say He'll let me go for the P6 camp (which clashes with concamp), so let's have faith in that! (:

i am actually kinda bored now.

whee. ok i go on msn see what i can do.

7¬14

2008-09-29T00:20:00.000-07:00

7 done, 7 more.
woohoo. half-way through.

and only...6....out of 7 are study-able.fine.
i somehow thought there were less.

by the way.
one day while cleansing and refreshing myself, i had a realisation-

the flaw with showers is that, at any one time, not all your body surface area is exposed to water (why? because you can't have a constant film of water over your body the WHOLE time), meaning that some surface areas are exposed to water more than others. Not very cool eh?

while with bathtubs, your whole body surface area is exposed to water all the time, ta-dah! excellent eh? however, sadly and disgustingly, we rise out of the same dirty water, meaning our body would have some of that gross residue still.

THEREFORE, i propose, purely in terms of hygiene and effectiveness,

A bathtub with a constant flow of water, meaning there's an initial amount of water placed in it, and then as one bathes, a flow of water is executed.

Get the idea?

....of course.
this would be highly expensive.
and very un-eco-friendly.
therefore my friend, do this only if you have a solution on how to save all this water in the end.

cheerio.

half-half.

they approach...

2008-09-15T04:56:00.001-07:00

here come the huge exams.

isn't it tragic.

as weird as it might seem, i felt like God's not going to let me go con-camp, so let's have faith in that. (:

also, many nice social thingies have been going on...or have they?
well, somehow, maybe nice and not so nice.
bittersweet.

it's been one week...but it's starting to waver.
veerryyy slightly.

but today's a good day.
just feels pleasant.

it's not all that bad...

2008-09-07T01:29:00.000-07:00

haha...wow.

can so many sad events merge in one day?
last day of the holidays.
exams upcoming.
a harsh epiphany.
and a blunt, numbing, piece of news which i don't know what to think of.

and now there's homework.
isn't that joyful?

well, it can't be all that bad...

and finally.
this song makes sense.

my diagnosis

2008-08-23T06:04:00.000-07:00

i realise my blog fluctuates.
sometimes i can not post for a month.
sometimes i can post thrice a week.

blog swings i guess.

------------------------------------------------------

here's my diagnosis.

he has a complex, that began and has developed for a long time.
due to many factors and details here and there.
and now with the affliction, it's just aggravated matters.

she is under a lot of pressure, from many areas in life.
certainly, it's not easy for her.

he needs an escape.
from all his emotional complexities.
he resorts to his old ways.

she doesn't like that.
especially since his old ways just aggravate his affliction.

he needs attention.
but its hard to give it to him.

therefore, i suggest a psychiatrist.
or a counselor.
to tend to him.

that's my diagnosis.
go for a second opinion if you like.

------------------------------------------------

i might be starting a series of abstract posts/stories
maybe i'll call it "dreamworld"
haha, laugh if you want.
i know. go on. help yourself.
laughter is good.

so you sailed away,
into a grey sky morning.

i know

2008-08-19T08:13:00.000-07:00

k imagine you just got over a quarrel with someone else.

how would you feel, to just think about
despite how much you get frustrated at that person, you still love him/her so much.
and right at that moment when you're consoling yourself with this fact,
this hope of your love you can still hang onto,

that person goes -
"you know what's the most pissing thing about you? ..."

kinda saddening right?
maybe i'm too used to it already.

i know there's more to this person.
i know it.
and the day it'll come out, i'm gonna feel more than thankful.

---------------------------------------

i realise many a time, at a random place, i want to compose a new post,
but i either forget or have no time once i get the opportunity.
fascinating, isn't it?

awakening

2008-08-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

worship today was good.
i felt this thingy.

it was along the theme of "awakening".
i think i felt like the worship was answering prayers of us youth.
or bringing some of us back onto track.
especially the last song.
it was an enlightenment to many.

well that's what i felt.
if anyone agrees just tag yeah?
would affirm me, thanks. (:

------------------------------------------------------------------------

also, i feel kinda disgusted with my recent (or long term) lack of self-discipline.
is like, if i have no pressure i get distracted easily.
i become playful.
then only after THAT happens, then i feel immense regret.
and the cycle replays.

until the pressure builds up and my body decides to do work.
and then i go like "why didn't i do it just now?"
and i get immensely annoyed with myself, and that leads to posts like these.
it feels so annoying.

ok, unnecessary things i did today which i could've done another time:
- media research
- emotional thinking
- internet games
- getting distracted by britain's got talent on youtube. (who the pong left that browser open?)

i think a solution would be to become nocturnal.
it worked on thursday.
but recently napping during afternoons have become increasingly difficult.
due to uncomfortably warm temperatures.

and now see, i have to do tuition work.
then still got school work.

oh man i do feel bad.
i need some way, God.
is this the mountain?

distance

2008-07-20T04:45:00.000-07:00

distance
like repercussions, sliding in suspicious
waves of uncertainty.

you grasp
for something of a breath,
heavy with dejection.

crayons in neon
outline the faces, not one, not two
you draw them blank.

deluded, insanity.
the beholder confused and confuses.
falling, screaming silently.

"well, i need a break don't i?"

-ryan.

self-reminder.

2008-07-13T08:44:00.000-07:00

ihs - research on scotland. consult shaun first.
history - do the essay for crying out loud.
chem. - where is my prac?!?! find it!
a math - a whole lot of catching up to do.
c math - the alpha beta thing.
chinese - yeah, done.
larts - coursework, due very soon, week 5!

life could be simpler.
but the jazz is, it's not.

intolerance.

2008-07-09T07:45:00.000-07:00

normally i would think i'm quite tolerant.
people have told me that too.

of course, there are still many things that annoy me.

one now that somehow demands me to blog it.

IT ANNOYS ME DEEPLY.
that he puts on such a sweet voice and possible facade with friends.
then with us he's so rude and annoying and obnoxious.
and i think i'm the ONLY one who sees this.

it just feels like injustice.
this is one recurring theme that I find appears in my "list of intolerances".
i think i can't stand injustice.
it just, really really irritates me.

why can't he just be who he is and not act all different and sweetly glazed in front of friends?
then seek attention. what a hypocrite, as he says someone else seeks attention.

maybe i'm wrong.
maybe i'm only looking at the surface,
and there's something more to this i can't see.
something which explains it all.

i really hope that's the case, and that he's only like this for some underlying truth i can't see.
i'll try not to brood over this.
focus on the good.
yes yes, calmness.

still i praise you, Father.

break free

2008-06-11T06:59:00.000-07:00

it spins.
absolute fragrance.
then it spits you to the ground.
nausea.
tearing you apart in beauty.
surfeit in indulgence.
wrapping softly, gently.
the confluence of soft and hard.
exploding inside.
shaking, grasping.
metal slams, you pick yourself up.
nowhere, no way, no place.
a void desert.
conscious, virtually sensing.
snap.
sleeping. vine of numbers.
taunting, treacherous.
screams. smiles. silhouettes.
bright snow. burns.
for something which lacks.
enveloping. hide in black.
sleep now. fading.
slowly. evolving.
yet depressing gently.
go to sleep now.
shhhh.
you're not there.
you're not there.

you're nowhere.

-ryan

rocking chair

2008-05-29T03:11:00.000-07:00

"gong gong!"

haha, he used to come on Saturdays or Sundays.
and we'd just do the usual greetings.
hardly talk to him.

"gong gong, you like the lunch?"
"orh, orh..."

i remember the gentle voice.

then he would slowly semi-limp to the landing chair, and put on his shoes.
then we shout "bye, gong gong!"

sometimes, i'd come back from bb and see him, as usual in the rocking chair.
right beside my dad, discussing his recent purchase of jewel rings.
and hearing my dad rant about what people do in Lorong Lew Lian.

i always didn't see much of him when i came back from bb.

he gave me a fine watch once. Oxford.
i, not being the watch type, never used it.

A few days ago, I took out that box, blew off the dust, and revealed the watch inside.
It had stopped working.
Just like how gong gong's heart had, on 15th May, 5:01pm.

I set the time on that watch to 5:01pm.
Its hands never move again.

it's strange how a man can just be reduced from a physical entity, to just a pile of broken bones and ash in an urn.

it's strange how you have reccuring memories of a person, when you realise you won't have any more.

it's strange, how, even with few words, we felt so close to our grandfather.

it's strange how we used to take Sundays as normal days where we'd see the same quiet man

come and go,
come and go,
come and go...

and never come again.

all too suddenly.

and sometimes, i still miss him.

the word - "investigate"

2008-05-14T20:55:00.000-07:00

"investigate".

what does it mean, and how was this word derived?
we all know how english is a compilation of many tongues.

so yes. let's investigate.

the word can be split up into "invest", "i" and "gate".

what does "invest" mean?

By dictionary.com, it means - "to use, give, or devote (time, talent, etc.), as for a purpose or to achieve something."

"i", obviously refers to the singular subject, addressing to one's self.

"gate" -
"a movable barrier, usually on hinges, closing an opening in a fence, wall, or other enclosure".

So, the word "gate" could be a symbol, as to how while "investigating" something, the way seems blocked, but if we have the KEY.

the way is open and clear!

the KEY is in cracking the mystery!!

"i".

investigating starts with one's self.

who am i?
what is my purpose?
am i an entity?
am i good?
am i bad?
what's the meaning of life?
why must i do this?
what's it's significance?
how bout strawberry cream?
are bananas evil?
did i spell banana correctly?
if i didn't who would care?
if they DID care, why would I care?

investigate.

it will do you good.

so.

we, meaning ourselves (i) have to devote time and talent, to harness our ability in giving (invest), so that we can see how we just might obtain the KEY in opening the gate of mystery and spring out of the box of delusion.

i did this in school. during iso.
cos it's free time as exams are over.

yay.

marcus teo has lost respect for me.

RYAN THE OWNAGE.

insufficiency.

2008-04-27T06:57:00.000-07:00

"you're so overstretched that you don't even have enough time for your...friends."

just a note - the above quote wasn't said in that frustrated, pissed off kinda tone, but in a sincere, wanna-help kinda tone.

but yeah, this recent conversation with a pretty close friend sorta affirms what i felt quite a while back, though i pushed those thoughts away.

Recap

though i've never blogged about this, never too late to catch up.

during an amath lesson a while back, i felt pretty depressed because i was like, sitting there, and i felt like whatever f(x) or -> thingy my teacher was scribbling on the board would make utterly no sense or not even help a single bit in the future.

which somehow led to how much time i'm wasting in lessons like these.

and my brain drifted off somewhere and made me suddenly think about my social life.
which is when i suddenly realised.

that my social life was constantly hindered and in a deep low because of educational systems.
and i thought about how so many a time i've never been able to help other good friends when they're feeling super bad;

let alone go out and have at least a simple chat or walk with them to catch up.

to the extent, that 95% of the times i log in on MSN, i'm always appearing offline.

"i used to ask you out but i don't now, because you're always so busy..."

slowly, this situation will get from bad to worse.

and can you imagine as the next few years progress?
in IB, yeah sure, you can say they're all struggling with me, so no one has a social life then.

but my really good friends are mostly in church.

i mean, really, it sucks to hear how slowly someone will draw away from you, because i just can't commit the same amount of time to him/her.

am i really too overstretched?

- bb = ltc exco (this is coming off soon)
- prefects = Internal affairs comm. (not in exco, thank God)
- chamber (this is practically nothing, there's no percussion this year).
- om (i'm just supporting, can only do so till' june, would end soon)
- vocal ministry = SL (this is a bit taxing, but important)
- 9th subject = Art (this is my passion)

ok, so currently i've got practically 5.
om will end soon, bb will lighten up when ltc finishes.
so that's like 3 1/2.

prefects? not gonna join council (quite a few reasons). but i don't think i'll quit.
9 subjects... should i drop amath?

i'm taking amath only because...
- people say it's important.
- it's supposed to help me with SL math in yr 5/6.
- then, i can concentrate on stuff like art!

sighh...
i know what.
i will MAKE time.

after mugging, things should be a lot smoother.
and... i'll be more pro-active in socialising.

yep yep.

alrightoes, feel a lil' better now...

off to math!

zinc carbonate is good for health,
ryan

of the dark ages.

2008-04-19T09:50:00.000-07:00

during school last Friday, suddenly felt like penning this down.
guess it was the impact the clip "End of the World 2012" had on me.

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a prophecy. Nor is it blasphemy. I'm just using my imagination. Yes.

of the dark ages
by Ryan Goh

the city weeps.
crimson flows,
dark and deep it goes.

an air of apathy.
the sky droops, a mourning.
the sunset in scorning.

silent howling.
its confidence, abolished.
all broken, crumpled, demolished.

"let there be light."
and there was.
but now echoes
the beast's uproars.

as shadow fell
and the Sun hid
the devil unleashes
upon the world, his bid.

I know it's quite dark and satanic-ky.
this is by no means an offence to anyone, or anything.

i think the flow's not too smooth, and there's something about the 4th stanza that doesn't sound quite right. the ending might be a lil' abrupt?

comments appreciated. (:

continue mugging till' its bugging!
ryan-.

P.S.
Oh, nearly forgot.
Cleo the Queen demands that I acknowledge how she inspired me.
Well, she did write a good essay.
So hear goes.

Inspired by - Cleo the Queen.

thank you.

have a nice day.

the calling.

2008-03-18T04:14:00.000-07:00

note --> cremon: it's not that i turn to my blog first, i just like to record it down here first, before consulting people about it.

heya guys.

school's started again. whoopee for term 2.

my march hols weren't so good. school can be so annoying at times. holidays are meant for relaxation, not additional stress. frightful isn't it.

Saturday - Synapse. Great fun. met new friends! haha, i won't forget y'all la.
Sunday - Normal. Church. Worship was good, had an awesome vision.
Monday - acpb (acs prefectorial board) outing at east coast. rain didn't help much. food was ok, managed to snag back home some extra chicken wings! hehe.
Tuesday - 1/2 of the only whole days i could stay at home.
Wed - Fri - Cell Retreat! Pretty fun man. Learnt a thing or two. had an unexpected talk.
Saturday - The second whole day i could spend at home. (homework-ing, of course).
Sunday - Church.

Managed to finish 12 homework then. sigh. so annoying.

was actually supposed to have ministry retreat! sigh, so sad i missed it...
ahh well, if God says let some off, i should follow...

feel inspired to write more stories again, but haven't found the time.
i might if i find the time (that's if, i'm still interested by then).

imagine.

2008-02-14T06:29:00.000-08:00

imagine you're a mother.

imagine your experience of first seeing a new baby boy.
imagine him coming out, fresh, crying, new.
imagine bringing him home in your arms, proud to call him your son.
imagine cuddling him in a shawl.
imagine comforting his fears with lullabies.
imagine him, a sleeping angel in the cot.
imagine teaching him how to open his mouth for the incoming spoon with glop.

imagine his first attempt to walk.
imagine his first successful attempt to walk.
imagine his first word.
imagine his first night without sucking his fingers.
imaging his first night without twilight cries.
imagine his first vacation with the family.
imagine his first model toy.
imagine his first visit to the nursery.
imagine his first friends.

imagine his first visit to primary school.
imagine the first teacher - prayer meeting.
imagine the complains.
imagine his first piece of homework.
imagine helping him with his first piece of homework.
imagine his first project.
imagine doing most of his project.
imagine his first examination results.
imagine him joining a sport.
imagine him getting into the school team.
imagine him in a competition.
imagine him winning.

imagine the times you scold him.
imagine the times you drive him home.
imagine the times you eat with him.
imagine the times he scolds you back.
imagine your deepest frustrations at times.

imagine his psle preparation.
imagine his psle papers.
imagine his psle results.
imagine his good psle results.
imagine his great excitement.

imagine opting him for a well-off school.
imagine his first day at the school.
imagine the new friends he makes.
imagine his new interest in a sport.
imagine having to pay 3k for his own laptop.
imagine going for track and field competitions.
imagine scolding him for not completing assignments on time.
imagine screaming at him for finding pornography in his computer.
imagine beating him for the first time.

imagine picking him up 3 days a week from training.
imagine talking to him in the car about the day.
imagine talking to him about his life.

imagine his deteriorating examination results.
imagine his late work.
imagine his poor-quality projects.
imagine the corruption of his character.
imagine his time being sucked away by his sport.

imagine him picking him up one day.
imagine him getting into the car all stinky, sweaty.
imagine his cheerfulness.
imagine driving home.
imagine driving home through the traffic, the red lights, green.
imagine rushing past the orange.
imagine him shutting the car door.
imagine him gleefully announce his presence to the household.

imagine collecting your thoughts.
imagine calling your husband.
imagine asking your boy to sit down.
imagine the puzzlement on his face.
imagine you and your husband, sitting on one couch.
imagine him looking at both of you, on another opposite.

imagine telling him that you both want him to quit.
imagine telling him that you want him to quit his sport.
imagine his face morph.

imagine spending half and hour scolding him.
imagine the rants on time.
imagine the rants on discipline.
imagine the rants on character.
imagine the rants on respect.
imagine the rants on priority.
imagine the rants on friends.
imagine the concluding statement.

imagine his argument.
imagine your shouts.
imagine his shouts.
imagine your screams.
imagine him dash up to his room.

imagine going on with other activities.
imagine hoping he'll think clearly.
imagine hoping he'll quit his sport.
imagine hoping he'll resolve to focusing on studies.

imagine him running downstairs again.

imagine him shouting that as real as you were his mother, his life wasn't worth living.

imagine him dash back up.
imagine him dash back with one last look of hatred, chaos and distress.

imagine your screams.
imagine your sprint after him.
imagine yourself praying right there and then.
imagine your cries after him.
imagine your desperation.
imagine your arrival at his room.
imagine him running towards his open window.
imagine your last desperation.
imagine your last cries.
imagine your outstretched arm just two metres away.
imagine a figure just descend.

imagine his smile.
imagine his words.
imagine his laughter.
imagine his candids.
imagine his humour.
imagine his quotes.
imagine him coming out of your womb.
imagine his first walk.
imagine cuddling him in your arms.
imagine his face.
imagine his face as you were talking to him thirty minutes ago.
imagine him.

imagine.

imagine.

Note:
This poem is a tribute to Tan Wen Yi.
It is not based on his life, it is just inspired by it.
The characters in the poem are fictional.

This post is not intended as an insult to anyone, be it his parents or him.
I respect them both.

Dear Wenyi,

Hey man, if you can see this-
I don't know why or where
(my opinions don't matter),
but that's up to God.

I'm sorry, Wenyi,
I am.

Trust Him,
ryan

post-mission trip.

2008-01-21T05:32:00.000-08:00

haven't blogged in a while.
been real busy.
gotta make this one shorter, cos i still have a history graded essay to do.

humans are full with emotions.
and now we all miss chiang mai '07 mission trip.
it was bittersweet.
we had the good times, and the good byes.

i mean even now, we feel the emptiness.

why is it we would want to feel this emptiness (or at least for me in any case)?
grief is not exactly what we would call a positive emotion.

but with emptiness, we remember that we once felt that meaning.

and personally for me, I might want to feel that emptiness.
I would want to remember those times, when I felt, although in a span of 8 days, my life had a void that was filled up. really filled up so fully.

I want to know and not forget.
I would want to know that those times held so much for me, mostly emotionally.

The void seems to already empty itself, and all that's left is the translucent traces of the meaning that was once there.
photos and memories, virtual connections.
memories the dearest.

if you forget those, you feel like you lose touch with that fulfillment in your life.
i think that's why we want to remember.
that's why we grief.
that's why we miss it.
and that's why, we (or I) would want to feel empty.

but of course, i know that my marketplace is here in Singapore as of now.
Slowly, the emptiness would trace away.
but i won't forget.

and in the end, it shouldn't be the emotions anyway.
most importantly, it's the spiritual calling.
don't let your emotions confuse that.

-------

i sympathise with my brother so much.

he had a harder blow of p.m.d (post mission depression).

i won't go into detail.

but I think God's showing me that because of this blow, he's become very "reactive", and I have to be a lot more sensitive.

like i heard in the mission trip, the affirmation from cheryl.
the affirmation of when God told me to let time pass, and him mature.

only God can do something in His life.
I shouldn't interfere just yet.

O Father, when?

pre-mission trip.

2007-12-21T02:46:00.000-08:00

i got sgb (sharity gift box) tomorrow. man. that sucks.

i mean, i sorta wanna go cos i wanna bless the old folks (not really physically, but spiritually).
but it's the last day before i leave for mission trip to chiang mai!

the holidays have zoomed by before i could catch my breath. -.-
school's gonna start again and the whole gloom will descend upon us all.
i need to be more disciplined when school starts.
especially with new temptations-ps3, drumset, bicycle.
i wanna reverse time.

i had a sudden sad feeling. as i was typing this post.
because of mission trip bootcamp, i realised my family couldn't go overseas for a family trip.
and at first, i didn't wanna go because i wanted to go for bootcamp.
but i realise it's been a long time since then, and not only that, i feel like i let my parents' hope of actually going for a family-conding vacation shatter.
i hope my mum wasn't planning that trip too long.
i hope she just had... a hope for it?

WAH! so many sad feelings.
- sgb, pre-mission-trip emptiness, rush.
- vanishing holidays, descent of school gloom.
- let down of mum's/parent's hopes of going for a vacation.

i guess we many a time do forsake our family for our friends. sigh.

recently, i went for the Word of Faith Convention.
Super good, so many things were personally applicable for me.
and, i had an affirmation!

the first night, when i was praying for an affirmation after the sermon and after worship, Aunty Catherine called me out to pray for me and share with me a vision.

I was in a suit, like Pastor Yew-Kwong's, and I was preaching on a stage.

well, although it wasn't clear whether i was a pastor or a missionary (blur? relate to previous posts), it was something! and i was really glad about it.

and i think i got tongues. i think i was anointed with tongues the last night Pastor Wee preached. i'm still not 100% sure, but i know i gotta keep praying in tongues to unfold the blueprint in my life.

Stayed over at cremon's (clemon, clement, whatever.) house recently.
first night, we watched a video on these really anointed and blessed youths (9-12 yrs old) and they were just so spiritually mature!

SUPER spiritually mature lah! i mean, there was an 11 year old boy who preached (yes, like a pastor), and a small girl who spoke in tongues, and when they moved in the spirit, you could really see their sincerity and passion and truth in it all. so so good man!

this really is a key generation. God's gonna do something big and new with this generation. something that would break the ways of tradition, not for the sake of rebellion, but by God's newly unveiled revelations. can you feel it? but of course, we have to make it happen lah.

and all the world will truly see,
that You are God.

a competition of offers.

2007-12-10T07:36:00.000-08:00

yep, so my walk's pretty good now.

Bible progress - Currently at Luke. I realised the first few chapters of the new testament are about the same events just phrased differently.

Devotional - Just started on one called "The Holy War". It's pretty good, finished the first 3 chapters. It begins with a story of a war, which is an analogy of how satan attackes the human soul and deceitfully plays with the mind to make it seem like his attacks are harmless, but there's still one good piece of the soul left, the conscience. and then God will try and save you back.

it made me think why we should take God's wonders more than satan's, cos honestly i never thought about it much.

satan offers things that are...
- short-lived
- materialistic
- untrue
- not deep, shallow
- of the flesh

God offers things that are...
- eternal
- emotional, unexplainable
- true, just, righteous
- great depth into the heart and soul
- spiritual

haha, don't think you thought much about all that too right?

the push.

2007-12-10T06:51:00.000-08:00

long time no blog. heh, sorry.

y' know what.

i feel like i'm being spiritually pushed.

my spiritual aspect of life has to take a huge leap.
i can't just walk casually by God's side anymore. well, at times i can of course.
but generally, i feel like i have to run by his side.
and my feet are on fire. setting the path on fire as we run.

i can't reveal the main reason why i feel i'm being pushed.
but there are other small things here and there.

primary school - go church, worship, haha, i still remember i was so upset i couldn't cry when I saw a sunday school teacher cry during worship, so i thought of my dog being taken away from me to make myself cry. haha! so stupid right. but no, no personal feeling from God. maybe only during sunday worship when i was p6?

secondary 1 - go church, realised the importance of qt. occasionally did qt. wasn't very hungry for God. felt Him sometimes during worship.

secondary 2 - go church, did qt more often. joined the vocalist ministry. started to know God more personally. Walked with Him more. Was touched more often.

and at the end of sec 2, one line made me feel that i had to really push for it next year.

another thing is the calling.

if you don't know yet, i'm going for the chiang mai mission trip.

yeah, on the last night of tng service at chapel in plmc, i was on roster for vocalists along with dwight led by lizzie. pam, our group leader, couldn't make it.
then as i was singing during the service itself. there was one song we didn't have to sing into the mike, where lizzie solo-ed, called Hungry.

so yeah, during that song, God tugged at my heart thrice to kneel, as He was telling me something.

He gave me a vision, of me travelling out of Singapore, to different countries, reaching out to children and young adults (i don't think i saw old ones). whether it was in worship or spreading the gospel.

and somehow i remember vividly a scene where i was praying with a lot of passion over one youthful lady, who was wearing dark green in the vision, i recall. i think she was crying. i don't know why i remember that scene so well. maybe it might happen?

so the first two times i was scared to kneel on stage.
but by the third tug, i knelt down.

although i didn't receive my vision then, i received it all before i knelt.
i think God wanted me to kneel to as a signal for me to surrender everything I had and could have to Him, a huge sacrifice if you become a missionary. as Clement said, I would have to lay aside the riches of the world.

so is God calling me to be a full-time missionary?
i also felt a calling to go for this mission trip.

maybe He is, but I feel like I need further affirmation.

i mean, then why did He put me in such a high scholarship as IB if His plan is for me to be a missionary? this was the main question that popped in my head.

questions, questions, give me an affirmation.

suffocation.

2007-11-07T00:04:00.000-08:00

this is a poem relating to my previous post on freedom.

suffocation
it's spinning round and round.
the pain, the claustrophobia.
in a gurgling whirlpool, drown!
or just plain paranoia?

twisters fill your head,
cos' the mind doesn't know.
if reality's so dead,
when will God's true plan show?

head cats have the say,
and many mice just follow.
old concrete, flat, passe.
and all of men, rot hollow.

twisters fill your head,
cos' your mind can't comprehend.
if all this has been laid,
what is freedom to a man?

freedom.

2007-11-06T23:40:00.000-08:00

haven't blogged in quite a while, hope y'all liked "kiwi!". (:

what is true freedom?

well, i'd say it's when one is not bound by any shackles, be it literally or figuratively.

one might say or exclaim, "I'm free!" when his or her homework assignments are completed. One would shout 'Freedom!', when the school bell rings, and the tons of restless students pour out of the classrooms.

freedom, might be believed to be all above.

but is this word really taken seriously?
are we all truly free at times like this?
our philosophy could be, "work's done, let's do whatever we want."

but then again, are we actually FREE to do so?

i bring it back to the topic of God's will. (I debated with cleo about this.)
like i said before, if God knows the future, theoretically, we wouldn't be able to choose our actions.

these are the facts laid out.

1. God already KNOWS what we did in the future.
2. There can only be ONE future.
3. God, being perfect, can never be wrong.

Given these three facts, isn't it safe to say that whatever we do, we're already destined by his knowledge, cos if he knows, for e.g., I would have wrote this blog post last year, then I definetely would have, for if I didn't, I would have defied his knowledge and that is just impossible.

UNLESS. given the theory that if God is of another dimension, He's not from this world (although when I was young I used to think that heaven was the gap between the universe and the sky, i don't know why. pretty stupid.), thus if He's not from this world, then the worldly elements, such as time, matter, space, might not be able to be related to Him, and the theory of God's foreknowledge determining our actions would be invalid.

So in short, we're either destined by his knowledge.
or we just can't compare.

also, there's God's law.
the ten commandments, love one another, love God, Spread the gospel (k, that's not really His law, but it was kinda like an order?).

and if i had wings i would fly,
cos' all that i need, You are.
and if the world caved in around me.
to You I'd still hold on.
Cos You're all that I believe.
You're the one that created me.
Jesus, because of You...
I'm Free!

when we say we're free in the Lord, we're talking about his salvation and we're like, delivered from evil. but we're not free, like to do what we want.

Even if you aren't christian, what about normal law?
With politics and advanced civilizations nowadays, law can be sniffed in your own home, your school backyard, every darn place has law!
if true freedom were abound, law would be gone.

of course, i'm not disproving of the law or anything, we can't have serial killers stabbing people on the street and luniac rapists going around terrorizing women, and then the whole world would fall into complete chaos.

i'm just saying, i don't think there's such a thing as true freedom, because of security in the world nowadays, and the will of God.
it's not an entirely bad thing, but i guess it has to be done for the sake of security.

---------

the holidays are real sian.
bloody sian.
crap.
it's so sian.

yesterday's sushi buffet was good though. (:

Kiwi!

2007-10-01T06:34:00.001-07:00

this short animation is the best. it's so sad.
the more i watch it, the more i cry. it's really good.

lucky number

2007-09-18T08:47:00.000-07:00

lucky number

you ask a question.
they don't answer.
sparks, fascination!
it makes you wonder.

the smoke fills your head.
flames, licking, alive!
the tables deadly laid
and no one knows they thrive.

hearts sinking under the waves.
Lord knows why she's lucky.
her number is her penny that saves
my mind's juices all muddy.

there are things no one could understand,
even if you crawled into their shoes.
why use a pencil, and not a pen?
it's all in the midnight blues.

ok, this poem is also based on specific personal events, so it might seem random and not make any sense to you. also, para 4, sentence 3 does not make sense here cos this is typed. but on my notebook it's in pencil.

irony

2007-09-18T08:46:00.000-07:00

you've probably seen this before. i had to re-enter it for clear-labelling.

In the plane on the way to Michigan, I was REALLY bored, besides playing my nintendo ds, practising my penmanship and scribbling my signatures, chatting to cherums and others, and sleeping, I did this poem.

Irony
i'm on a running boost
yet i'm sitting still
my fingers barely twitching
but i'm on a spree to kill
exploring worlds, a monster comes
DIE! a falling tombstone
was my ticket to the graveyard
whilst i'm still at home; -and then-
my eyes go blind, my mind goes blank
my world has come to end.
my mother pulled the plug
Result? computer games are banned.

it's damn childish, cao did a better one about a guy and a bitch. can't confirm what it's about though, he used one cheem term. that's also illegible, so i can't type it here.

see ya.

stageplay

2007-09-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

i had to retype this poem, because while editting posts it got deleted.

stageplay
the hall is empty.
a new light shines.
smoky figures
appear in lines.

the hall has faces.
the man smiles there.
she looks away as
she rusts on the stair.

my violin turns to sawdust.
fourth, third, champion.
the chairs layer grey specks.
this odyssey hits extinction.

He draws the curtain open.
and the stage is finally seen.
it's time to step up there.
it's time to step out there.

yeah, some of my poems won't be easy to understand, cos' they're personal. for this poem, para 2 and 3 is personal.
anyway, it's basically about my life so far and the future.

present.

2007-09-18T08:33:00.000-07:00

wow.

in the last half hour, i was briefly going through all my posts and labelling them, and i realised i could really be quite childish last time! not saying that i'm very mature now.
also, a few things i mentioned in the past contradict what i think now.

"halloz"
"dunt mindd dhe typooes"

haha, all these stupid phrases.

you know, i think it's been a year. and it's still there.
and i don't know why it's gone, but it just won't budge.
but at least i'm quite sure, it's gradually wearing off.
so yeah, thank God for that.

exams are coming!
dang, i haven't started intensive mugging.
seriously, what's wrong with me.
shouldn't it be an instinct to mugg when the exams are two weeks away?

but also, i feel some people are just too enthusiastic.
they get so caught up with ensuring their future, they forget what potential's in the present.
and the present cannot even be defined by time, it's an infinitely small flick, not a second.
like when i think about it, i'm pretty sure many of the stuff i'm learning now would not play an important role in the future.

there's gonna be a bomb of poems uploaded,
cos i won't be updating for a while.

so take time to enjoy.
or ridicule, whatever.

seclusion

2007-08-09T22:48:00.000-07:00

you know, i think i don't have any true friends on earth.
and no, this is not an emo post, i'm not emo, i'm a thinker.
just plainly stating a fact of my life, in fact, I don't think anyone has true friends.

What are true friends anyway?
and you'd probably think of all those sweet little spam mails that attach a presentation with cute little doggy and cat pics hugging each other and nice little quotes regarding a 'true friend'.

well, no. i'd guess a true friend (why am i explaining this if there's probably no such thing?) would be someone who fully understands every aspect of your life. every single aspect.
but no one would be able to do that, except Jesus and God. we'll come to that later.

most of my church friends, well, i guess they're mostly playful and bubbly, those type that would like to have a lot of fun together.

school friends, well, i guess i can relate to them better because school is right now a major part of life, which means i'd see them everyday, and they can relate with many current issues.

But lately, I feel like I'm slowly drifting away from them. I believe it's due to my lack on intellect and my relative immaturity.

To prove my point, i'm disrespected by many and looked down upon, normally when i give advice, i'm either laughed at, ridiculed for my "morals", called 'slow', or generalised class-A 'prefect'. and i'm quite sickened by it.

i mean, when you 'bu shuang' with the person, you don't go and blame his affiliations do you? sure, the affiliations he joins would say a lot, and influence him a lot, but ultimately, wouldn't you say it boils down to the person? It's not like prefectiture is the nazis. Even in the nazis, would you say that every german soldier is an ass to the end?

we wouldn't be much better than those in the time of racism, would we?

well, i guess, hmm. i really don't know.
do we actually need true friends in life? (other than Jesus and God that is)

even sometimes, when you stop thinking about sunday school teachings, you wouldn't think that God and Jesus isn't exactly one that you could relate to on the same level, even though you always hear that "Jesus will be your best friend", "God is your best friend". You'd feel that God is on a superior level, and you can't really relate to Him when you're so low. And I know, you might quarrel back, "but He's God! He's omnipotent, and he will always be there for you."

you know what?
i totally agree with that statement.
but let's just say...
there would definetely be something different between a physical, human being as a friend, and God as a friend.

so then, maybe we really don't need true friends.
the phrase in itself is a paradox.

i'm not exactly sad to realise there would never be such a thing as a true friend, but i'm quite sure that many people have better friends than i do. i feel like i'm the rope in a tug of war between two elements of my life. i just feel, kind of depressed.

also very inferior.

meanwhile, i'll get myself lost in the dimensions of time and sound.

life is like a boat

2007-08-08T20:45:00.000-07:00

Nobody knows who I really am
I never felt this empty before
And if I ever need someone to come along,
Who's gonna comfort me, and keep me strong?

We are all rowing the boat of fate
The waves keep on coming and we can't escape
But if we ever get lost on our way
The waves would guide you through another day

Far away, I'm breathing, as if I were transparent
It would seem I was in the dark, but I was only blindfolded

I give a prayer as I wait for the new day
Shining vividly up to the edge of that sea

Nobody knows who I really am
Maybe they just don't give a damn
But if I ever need someone to come along
I know you would follow me, and keep me strong

People's hearts change and sneak away from them
The moon in its new cycle leads the boats again

And every time I see your face
The ocean heaves up to my heart
You make me wanna strain at the oars, and soon
I can see the shore

Oh, I can see the shore
When will I see the shore?

I want you to know who I really am
I never thought I'd feel this way towards you
And if you ever need someone to come along,
I will follow you, and keep you strong

And still the journey continues on quiet days as well
The moon in its new cycle shines on the boats again

I give a prayer as I wait for the new day
Shining vividly up to the edge of that sea

And every time I see your face
The ocean heaves up to my heart
You make me wanna strain at the oars, and soon
I can see the shore

We are rowing the boat of fate, but the waves keep attacking us
But isn't that still a wonderful journey? Aren't any of them a wonderful journey?

------------------------------------------------

a song that was used for one of the Anime Bleach's endings.
I think no. 3.
it's called 'life is like a boat' (if you haven't realised).
despite it's straight-forwardness, I still find it very deep and meaningful, almost applicable to my life in some sort of weird way.

a paper crane

2007-07-31T03:38:00.000-07:00

i think i overdid this story with too much drama and expressive words, so it might seem a little/lot weird.

hope you enjoy it though! (:

a paper crane

Part 1

They had come. My heart froze for a second.

And then I caught up with reality.

I quickly grabbed the photo, and a neatly-crafted piece of origami from the table. Other than those two items and the element of time, everything in this old shack would have no more value to me. They were approaching nearer with every heart-quaking second. I had to hide.

In my best effort to secure myself, I lay there, motionless. The sweat didn’t help. I looked at the two items in my hands. The paper model of the crane looked as beautiful as ever, and I tried my best not to spoil it with the sweat beads in my hands. The crack of broken wood rang in my ears, more traumatising than when I first heard the soft pounding of bomb shells a few months ago. The sounds of hurried footsteps and tongues speaking in Japanese were presented. The Grim Reaper’s greeting. The sound of metal clunked as they presumably, took all my stores of food away.

My location was not to be spared. The unlocked door was slammed open, followed by half a dozen of legs clad in a yellowish khaki material. Wardrobes fell onto the floor, each deafening crash making ripples in my heart.

And as the mattress was lifted off the finely-carved wooden structure, light spilled onto me. And I was exposed. As I closed my eyes, my heart froze in time, and all sound faded. I ignored the chances and odds, held the simple reed cross that was tied to my neck, and prayed like never before.

My eyes opened, and the light was gone. My shock overpowered my happiness. Had he not realised? My hope grew, only to be smothered again when the above mattress was once again lifted up, this time not in their hope to find goods. But me.

The man clad in a different uniform slyly grinned down at me. He did not have flaps hanging next to his ears, and he had on a different headgear. His smile then faded, and he shouted something at a nearby soldier. I identified him as the one who had first lifted up the mattress. He then turned to face me, and shouted something I could in my best efforts, not identify by knowledge, but by inference. I slowly crawled out, and bowed in insincere respect. The seemingly superior officer pulled me up by my hair, and more instructions were barked. Shortly after, I found myself as an oddity in a group of Japanese soldiers. My hands were tightly tied behind my back with rope. I was brought onto a truck with them, and was roughly tossed onto the ground like an inanimate object. I had not the slightest clue what they were going to do to me. But as the engine of the vehicle sinisterly chuckled, my depression lightened as I remembered the photo and paper crane I had hastily stuffed, but with great care, into my pocket before I was found.

At least I had those.

The truck stopped, and I was brought out, into an atmosphere of sheer dullness. The concrete-based compound was bordered with similar trucks, and lines of Chinese men were slowly filing out. Out of the blue, a flour bag was tossed on top of me, completely covering my head and neck, resting limply on my shoulders. Holes were present for me to see and breathe though. I could not understand why I was to be alone, and not along with the countless files of other Chinese men.

I had not known then.
I had not known then of their purposes.
I had not known then of my use to them. I had not known then that that bag around my head was my protection from humiliation.
I had not known then that that bad around my head was the fuel of my disgrace.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2
I was still there. The bag was never taken off my head. Only when I took that ever-seldom bath, and when I caught that precious pinch of rest every night. It had been three months, and it had felt like my lifetime’s worth. I was never knowing what to feel. Only knowing what to do.

And that morning would have been no different.

I woke up at 5.35am.
No bath, no change of clothes that day. There were no extra clothes anyway. The only attire that was ever shifted on and off my body was a brown flour bag, that had gotten mouldy and more grim-looking with the rain’s encouragement.

They were not on patrol yet. Feathers on my feet, I crept to the wood plank at the corner of the room. I lifted it, my stomach flipping. And I took out the treasures of my life. He was so young then. I wondered where he was now. How did he look like? I tried to imagine.

And the only thing he left with me has not been easy to keep in best condition. The crane was crumpled and creased, over its months of sweat and hopeless repair. It’s head could be barely seen; at least what was left of it. What used to be a faint pink crisp material had become soft, and well-rubbed with dirt.

Footsteps and shouting. My heart took a freefall. The corridor lights flickered on after I threw the board back down. A figure of fear stepped in and curtly shouted a phrase of Japanese. Hearing it every morning, I inferred that it meant, “Get into gear, and get down to your job.”

A depressing odour filled my head as my world’s lights were limited to two small holes. Routine took place. I heaved down the grey sullen steps, with the commander pushing me with no hint of compassion from behind.

Soon enough, the lines of men appeared over the pale blue horizon, giving my heart the same regretful feeling. They halted in unison, as if there was a barrier that the limit of my current sight could not see. One by one, they were pushed in front of me. Each face, each man, had been conditioned in my eyes as one and the same.

They’re all a deck of cards. The first and second cards drawn are bad. The third would be the one shot down. My sense of justice was The-Third-Apple-Was-Always-Unripe. I had not any sense of righteousness in my mind. I used to break down at the thought of what happened to those I chose at random. Now, it didn’t matter anymore.

Not until time froze, and noise shivered away. The Ace of Spades flicked in front of me. The picture’s background grew increasingly blur, was this really him? I looked at his right ear. My pupils narrowed. That scar was unmistakable. His nose and mouth were streaked with dry crimson, and his forehead was dust grey. His eyes were steady, brave. “Torment” was not in his vocabulary, as he stared into my unknown eyes. Because if he knew, those narrow suspenseful eyes would broaden. And I would see the life I once knew in him.

Part 3

I breathed. This was the third card. This was the Ace of Spades. The gears in my mind back winded, and it seemed as if the universe was sucking in on me. The chances were 33%, why must it be now? The stars were falling and no one else was affected by this sudden central apocalypse.

And then my mind broke its shackles. The suction of the universe slowed to a stop, and reversed its play, shooting out of central. I had a rush of energy, and I felt like I was energized by all the darkness that had willed me to summon it. My hands could crush the universe to powder. I was a god. Nothing could stop me.

I swung the bag off my face. Humiliation could not reach a god. Humiliation would not care to a god. I grabbed the nearest officer, only to find my face smashing into the dirt. I could not care. I flailed and kicked, and the shouts were nothing but mere babies’ noise to me.

No, I won't let this happen.

I hit the dirt again. Only this time, it was grainy, rougher dirt. I looked up for a split second, and then was shoved in the back, an action that only pushed me forward. Blood trickled down the right side of my face, as the vision of the waves grew closer. They were so calm. So calm, yet so deadly.

I looked to my right, and there he was. I smiled; the calm after the storm. He could not smile back, but in my worst of hope, turned away. I knew that in the mixture of sweat, blood and dirt, there were tears. Tears not of regret, not of sorrow, but of disappointment.

We stopped, and the soft subtle crash of the waves calmed me. I had nothing to be afraid of.

Faraway, the Japanese were unloading some heavy chunks of unidentified metal from the truck, and placing them in a linear pattern about 50 metres off. I had already known what they were. Men began to crouch behind the hunks of metal, and the last few hunks were assembling.

“What’s that you’ve got in your hands?” The Ace of Spades turned to me and questioned in spite.
“Not much that would concern you,” I said, and opened my cupped hands, revealing the photo and paper crane inside.
And I saw him start to cry again. I looked at him with love, and he looked back at me with crystal eyes. This would be the last time I saw this Ace. This crystal. My one and only son.

And then, one by one they began to fall. The dominos ladder came up till it hit him. I only heard his cries, my eyes being closed in preparation. But there was no impact. I opened them two seconds later, first I saw the blood of my son staining the ocean, and then I looked up to see the black chunk being filled with pellets.

I cupped my two hands and drew them up to my heart. I closed my eyes once again, but that couldn’t stop the tears from coming. I felt nothing, but fell to the ground.

Not now… don’t miss me now. Out of all the times I had to survive, why now? Out of the corner of my eyes, I checked my condition. My elbow had been smeared by a bullet. I looked straight. And saw his eyes for the fourth time. They were open and blank.

But in it flashed a twinge of happiness. Which was all that mattered to me anymore.

As a shadow fell over me, my face lifted to meet the enemy. He pointed his gun to me, tipped with an intimidating metal, but just another harmless helper.

“You can make me serve you. You can make me your prisoner.”

I grabbed his gun.

“But you can never take away my heart. I am free.”

I drove it deep into my darkness.

My head fell. There was no pain. The paper crane was freckled crimson, and was slowly drifted off by the waves. Drifting, drifting…like the light of my mind, until nothing existed.

I am free.

indigestion

2007-07-24T02:53:00.000-07:00

hey people.

birthday

the usual. cut cake, sing song, blow candles, eat cake.
however this year, i had more presents!
i still remember how i lost one of my last year's present at a hawker centre (supposedly).

thanks to bimbo heather for the coin bank + card.
thanks to poet tricia chee for the card + gatsby moving rubber (quite a waste on a poor hairstylist) haha, kidding, it's a great gift.
thanks to artist gracelynn for the painting! (relax about the smudges, it's genuine!)
thanks to hanya for the fruitcake (still enjoying it).

thanks to bluggy jeremy tan for the name tag. (haven't attached it)

and of course, thanks to my heavy cell for the rubberband/towel-wrapped load of candy! Not forgetting the 185-kg gift.

haha! thank you all!

next day, ate Genkhi sushi for lunch (or something like that. sorry nong.)
bought a new pair of white canvas shoes and sandals.

yippee! i've never had white canvas shoes.

hungry?

birthday cake and candy aside, a new type of hungry has been opened to my eyes.

i went for vocal training on sunday, and was taught the usual about stage presence.
then luke said we had to be hungry for God, which was, simple as it sounds, a thing that was not consciously apparent to me.

worship on saturday, was full of happiness in the songs, but as they travelled through my ears, eventually became a stinging message.

i had missed friday night prac due to Battle of the Bands prefect duty.
and i was supposed to sing for saturday night worship, but they covered most of the songs on friday night.

so i missed my first singing chance.
my first chance to serve God in TNG.

and all the songs on Saturday were about giving all to God, and truly always desiring to worship him, which didn't help my guilt for not being up there looking down instead of down here looking at each striked bolded yellow word on the screen.

i was in a dilemna.

was it God's plan that I had missed this chance for the one and only special prefect event?
or did God want me to go for His ministry instead.

i felt quite bad about the whole thing on Sunday, when luke emphasized the importance about being hungry for God.

i realise i'm never truly as hungry for God as I should be.
QT nowadays consist of a simple reading of the bible and/or a prayer.

and i realise i sometimes don't feel like doing QT.

why? why am i not hungry even when i want to be?
why do i not have the holy spirit?
why do i many a time not feel as touched as I should be?
even when i want it.
is there something blocking it?

personalities

have i talked about this before?

i seem to have different personalities in different places.

at home - i'm normal, i do thinking, i do homework.
at school - i'm normally high, and i go bouncing round and talking heck a lot of random stuff.
i act like a small child, like a reuben. i think the highness is to neutralise the
boredom of school.
at church - depends. normally happy and a little talkative.

i normally like my home personality. that's probably the real me anyway.

alright it's 6.20, so i'd better get going.
did i mention i started writing a short story during the mid-year-exam preparations?
i finished it a few weeks ago, i'll post it up soon.
it's a bit weird though.

give me spiritual digestive tablets...or something.

murphy's law

2007-07-10T03:43:00.000-07:00

i just ate right out of a soup pan.

this sucks.
the downstairs comp is too laggy, and it's hard to do anything cos' none of my documents are here except a few main ones.

yes, my laptop has been confiscated, because in a spot check they found games inside.
and if i could swear to God, I would say here that the only times i've played games in class was way back last year during recess (fifa), and after school (can't remember when, NS shaft).

The main games they found were maplestory and Warcraft!

i deleted maplestory long time ago!
and warcraft? heck, i've never touched the thing!

i dunno why it showed up, but warcraft was downloaded by my brothers.
but upon returning home (easier with a lighter load), russ said he deleted it and shared my sorrow. whee.

murphy's law.
seriously, I'M the one going around switching people's computer off when THEY play games.
and it so happened as i was doing my irs project today during recess, the spot check happens. ARGH. my fftactics advance... and they're gonna reformat the whole thing?

I HAVE TOO MANY DOCUMENTS IN THERE!!!

then i look back a few days ago, to when i was singing on the stand, the 30 people with me and thousands looking back. i had just served.

and now i've been served. when i just served.

i feel so unjustified ( a feeling i've been feeling a lot these days).
why me? i don't even play the damn games in class.

then i remember the sermon.

so i thanked the Lord for taking away my laptop.
maybe he's got some plan in this? (there better be?)

maybe my laptop will be less laggy, and viruses will be deleted?
this all sounds damn weird i know.

another piece of unjustice

i get reprimanded for not greeting teachers, and am asked whether i'm serious about being a prefect.

"you're forgetting the habit, ryan..."

what the pong?
he sees it happen once and he says that

ok, so maybe he's seen it a few times.
still, i normally greet teachers!

unless they're talking seriously or busy or i forget.
but very often i do.

and it so happened i didn't greet those teachers at that time because they were discussing some seemingly important issues!

i mean, if i were a teacher, i wouldn't want a student disturbing me with a greeting in the middle of an important conversation.

elimination

i know i'm the worst of the group, that's why i'm left out.
i always don't do anything, even if i want to.
and they don't wanna make me feel bad, but who would want a slacker?

what is He gonna do with me when i grow up?

dang it.
6 more days till i get it back with no more files.

keep holding on.
tell me to keep holding on to you Lord.