This video is damn funny. At least to me. I don't usually laugh at myself acting, but this one is damn cock. We shouldn't do too badly for the presentation tomorrow.
The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows into a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation. -Anne Rice
Laughter is the melody of happiness in rhythm. Weeping is the harmony of sadness in tremelos. Neither music is meant to be made alone. Give me a chance to make music with you, and I promise you'll find that I can blend both tunes of yours together like you've never known possible yourself. -Valentino Casanova
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
A Tribute To Smiles
This is a tribute to all the different people who've smiled at me, or made me smile one time or another in my life. Yes, you. You don't know how much a smile means to me. Thank you. +)
When I See You Smile - Bad English
Most smiles are started by another smile. -Clark, Frank A.
When I See You Smile - Bad English
Most smiles are started by another smile. -Clark, Frank A.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Korean Superstar
There's a really popular band in Korea at the moment called Wonder Girls. Richard introduced the band to me upon his return from Japan some time in January, and despite his continuous assertions of the beauty of the band members, I didn't have a single urge to find out who they were.
Then Andrew came home today and told me about this MTV starring the Wonder Girls. He kept on going about how his fellow NSFs were going gaga about this band, kept their posters and kept debating about who's the prettiest member. So I took a good look at the MTV on Youtube, and then something caught my eye. I googled for a clearer picture of the superstars, and this was what I found.
I took out one of the few photographs that I have left of you and showed both of them to Andrew right after he finished his bath. The conversation went something like this:
Victor: Andrew, take a look at these two photos.
Andrew: Huh? Oh her again. Can't you ever get your mind off her?
Victor: What do you think?
Andrew: Seems like she just changed her hairstyle. Nothing else special.
Victor: This (pointing to your photo) is you-know-who. That (pointing to the photo above) is Kim Yoobin, one of the Wonder Girls.
Andrew: Oh my god.
Victor: And you laugh at me for not being able to take my mind off her.
One of the hottest girls in Korea. The gym session just earlier in the evening saved a patch of wall in my room so that nothing more than paint came off.
I went on to soak myself under the shower for god-knows-how-long.
I always said your classmates were spot-on when they nicknamed you "Korean Superstar". Not so sure about your other friend "Japanese Superstar". But they were right about you.
The biggest irony? The MTV is called "Nobody (But You)". It's a nice, catchy song, and the MTV is funny too. The translation is below. Hope you blog hoppers enjoy it.
Then Andrew came home today and told me about this MTV starring the Wonder Girls. He kept on going about how his fellow NSFs were going gaga about this band, kept their posters and kept debating about who's the prettiest member. So I took a good look at the MTV on Youtube, and then something caught my eye. I googled for a clearer picture of the superstars, and this was what I found.
I took out one of the few photographs that I have left of you and showed both of them to Andrew right after he finished his bath. The conversation went something like this:
Victor: Andrew, take a look at these two photos.
Andrew: Huh? Oh her again. Can't you ever get your mind off her?
Victor: What do you think?
Andrew: Seems like she just changed her hairstyle. Nothing else special.
Victor: This (pointing to your photo) is you-know-who. That (pointing to the photo above) is Kim Yoobin, one of the Wonder Girls.
Andrew: Oh my god.
Victor: And you laugh at me for not being able to take my mind off her.
One of the hottest girls in Korea. The gym session just earlier in the evening saved a patch of wall in my room so that nothing more than paint came off.
I went on to soak myself under the shower for god-knows-how-long.
I always said your classmates were spot-on when they nicknamed you "Korean Superstar". Not so sure about your other friend "Japanese Superstar". But they were right about you.
The biggest irony? The MTV is called "Nobody (But You)". It's a nice, catchy song, and the MTV is funny too. The translation is below. Hope you blog hoppers enjoy it.
Nobody
You know I still love you baby
And it will never change
I want nobody, nobody but you
I want nobody, nobody but you
I don't want anyone else
I can't have anyone but you
I want nobody nobody, nobody nobody
Why are you trying to push me away? I hate it.
You ignore what I am saying
Why are you trying to send me to other guys?
Why are you doing this?
Saying that this is for my own good
Saying that you are just not enough
Stop it right now, you know me well enough
Why are you forcing what you know I don't want?
I'm satisfied, I'm happy
If I have you I don't want for anything else
Who do you want me to meet and be happy with?
I can't be happy away from your side
Saying that this is for my own good
Saying that you are just not enough
Why can't you understand that it makes no sense?
How can I be happy without you?
I don't want nobody, body body
I don't want nobody, body body
Really, if it is not you
I hate it!
Back to the days
When we were so young
And wild and free
Everything was just like a dream
I want to go back to those times
Why do you keep on pushing me away?
Why do you push me away?
I don't want nobody, nobody
Nobody nobody but you
You know I still love you baby
And it will never change
I want nobody, nobody but you
I want nobody, nobody but you
I don't want anyone else
I can't have anyone but you
I want nobody nobody, nobody nobody
Why are you trying to push me away? I hate it.
You ignore what I am saying
Why are you trying to send me to other guys?
Why are you doing this?
Saying that this is for my own good
Saying that you are just not enough
Stop it right now, you know me well enough
Why are you forcing what you know I don't want?
I'm satisfied, I'm happy
If I have you I don't want for anything else
Who do you want me to meet and be happy with?
I can't be happy away from your side
Saying that this is for my own good
Saying that you are just not enough
Why can't you understand that it makes no sense?
How can I be happy without you?
I don't want nobody, body body
I don't want nobody, body body
Really, if it is not you
I hate it!
Back to the days
When we were so young
And wild and free
Everything was just like a dream
I want to go back to those times
Why do you keep on pushing me away?
Why do you push me away?
I don't want nobody, nobody
Nobody nobody but you
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Vulnerability and Trust
I can't seem to stop talking about Jesus! (And I'm very happy about it). Started out on Sunday night when I talked to a new friend about Christianity and love till the wee hours of the morning. Then the next day I did Harvest Week a.k.a. Street Evangelism in NUS with my senior DG for about an hour plus, having an opportunity to speak to three different people about the four spiritual laws. Some of them even turned out to be wonderful conversations! And today, I went out with my junior DG for Harvest Week again, and spoke to three more people , one of whom prayed to receive Christ! It's a really nice feeling. +)
Now that Nick is in Shanghai, there is no more "obstacle" to kneeling down and praying beside my bed (which has been the excuse for not developing a discipline of praying for God-knows-how-long). And the last few days have been times when I'm on my knees praying for different people and their struggles, or particular prayer requests. I'm trusting God for more and more, and I've absolute faith that some big things are going to happen soon. It's wonderful what a bit of time praying can do! Something tells me the effect is exponential too.
Everywhere I go, I ask the Holy Spirit to speak. Of course, the tendency is for me to start interrupting and blabbering on about my life, my hopes, the people close to me, the people whom I love. But He is always there, watching and smiling, and the peace is so tranquil. I still get a low feeling very often, which more often than not is covered up with a strong smile and a confident glance, but deep inside there is an unspeakable joy of being close to Him. In my pain, my hurt, I feel Him all the more closer. And I cherish this fellowship, this connection. It is always during my lowest moments that He is near to me.
Desmond has been wanting to speak to me about last December for a long time. I was open to talk about it since February, but starting from then, he's always never been able to meet up with me for personal time. He's either busy, or more often, sick. It's about the fifth time he's apologize for not being able to make it for PT, and honestly I'm really okay. Every time he sees me at Crusade Corner he'll tell me, "Victor, remember what I told you after the mission trip. Be careful to obey whatever God wants you to do." I've never gotten to say my peace, but with regards to the incident, God hasn't convicted me of any wrong doing. Some people will go so far as to say I'm genuinely insane or psycho (I hardly get such accusations though) for love's sake. If so, then Jesus would be the epitome of madness for the sake of love. How many missionaries have died being labelled crazy, how many heroes were considered stupid till the consequences of their actions felt? If each were to consider his reputation or image, who is going to stand out?
My friend, you might be reading this, or she might be directing this post to your purview, so I'll say this. You bloody better take good care of her; she's more valuable than you can ever imagine, more fragile than glass, yet tougher than steel. She's gone through more than you probably ever will your entire life, so don't underestimate her ability to empathize the pain of another. I sense you're wondering if I'll snatch her from under your nose the moment you leave for UK, and I don't blame you. You don't know me, but rest assure that I pose no such threat. Her heart is with you, and no matter what I do now, it's not going to change that fact anytime soon. But yes, I'm still going to love her and you can call me a psycho or a madman, but that's the way love is. My love does not come from within myself anymore, nor does it come from a secret hope of a reunion of passion so explosive and so real. It comes from another Source far greater than any man on Earth can provide. She knows about it, you can ask her about it.
I'm never one to beg, but I'll do so now. Do treasure her more than your own life, and treat her with more respect than you've ever given yourself. I know you do, you can, and you will. After all, among those who know me, few have ever spoken so highly of another with so much adoration before. It's the way God smashes my pride to bits. I've never felt so small in my life.
But should the day come when she sheds a single teardrop because of any form of non-negotiable, unambigious ill-treatment from your hands, believe me when I say that if she calls, I'll be there before the next one falls.
Love is not love, until love is vulnerable. - Theodore Roethke
Now that Nick is in Shanghai, there is no more "obstacle" to kneeling down and praying beside my bed (which has been the excuse for not developing a discipline of praying for God-knows-how-long). And the last few days have been times when I'm on my knees praying for different people and their struggles, or particular prayer requests. I'm trusting God for more and more, and I've absolute faith that some big things are going to happen soon. It's wonderful what a bit of time praying can do! Something tells me the effect is exponential too.
Everywhere I go, I ask the Holy Spirit to speak. Of course, the tendency is for me to start interrupting and blabbering on about my life, my hopes, the people close to me, the people whom I love. But He is always there, watching and smiling, and the peace is so tranquil. I still get a low feeling very often, which more often than not is covered up with a strong smile and a confident glance, but deep inside there is an unspeakable joy of being close to Him. In my pain, my hurt, I feel Him all the more closer. And I cherish this fellowship, this connection. It is always during my lowest moments that He is near to me.
Desmond has been wanting to speak to me about last December for a long time. I was open to talk about it since February, but starting from then, he's always never been able to meet up with me for personal time. He's either busy, or more often, sick. It's about the fifth time he's apologize for not being able to make it for PT, and honestly I'm really okay. Every time he sees me at Crusade Corner he'll tell me, "Victor, remember what I told you after the mission trip. Be careful to obey whatever God wants you to do." I've never gotten to say my peace, but with regards to the incident, God hasn't convicted me of any wrong doing. Some people will go so far as to say I'm genuinely insane or psycho (I hardly get such accusations though) for love's sake. If so, then Jesus would be the epitome of madness for the sake of love. How many missionaries have died being labelled crazy, how many heroes were considered stupid till the consequences of their actions felt? If each were to consider his reputation or image, who is going to stand out?
My friend, you might be reading this, or she might be directing this post to your purview, so I'll say this. You bloody better take good care of her; she's more valuable than you can ever imagine, more fragile than glass, yet tougher than steel. She's gone through more than you probably ever will your entire life, so don't underestimate her ability to empathize the pain of another. I sense you're wondering if I'll snatch her from under your nose the moment you leave for UK, and I don't blame you. You don't know me, but rest assure that I pose no such threat. Her heart is with you, and no matter what I do now, it's not going to change that fact anytime soon. But yes, I'm still going to love her and you can call me a psycho or a madman, but that's the way love is. My love does not come from within myself anymore, nor does it come from a secret hope of a reunion of passion so explosive and so real. It comes from another Source far greater than any man on Earth can provide. She knows about it, you can ask her about it.
I'm never one to beg, but I'll do so now. Do treasure her more than your own life, and treat her with more respect than you've ever given yourself. I know you do, you can, and you will. After all, among those who know me, few have ever spoken so highly of another with so much adoration before. It's the way God smashes my pride to bits. I've never felt so small in my life.
But should the day come when she sheds a single teardrop because of any form of non-negotiable, unambigious ill-treatment from your hands, believe me when I say that if she calls, I'll be there before the next one falls.
Love is not love, until love is vulnerable. - Theodore Roethke
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Every Tear You Cry
A post laden with frustration last night I see. I must have been high. Sometimes one can write things carelessly, meaninglessly, without thought in the world who one might be hurting. But... I'll leave it there so that this blog looks a little more natural. Erasing all your painful conversations with God isn't always a smart thing to do. One day, I'll look back and I'll smile at the silliness of it all.
I'm beginning to read other translations of the Bible. The NIV Bible is very useful, commonly quoted with endless revelations. Nonetheless, I'm beginning to love The Message Bible, a contemporary translation by Eugene Peterson. He's a poet, a writer and a linguist, and I'm a sucker for poetry. Using Psalms 56:8, let me show you why.
NIV:
Record my lament;
list my tears on your scroll
are they not in your record?
CEV (Contemporary English Version, a really cool one too):
You have kept record
of my days of wandering.
You have stored my tears
in your bottle
and counted each of them.
The Message:
You've kept track of my every toss and turn
through the sleepless nights,
Each tear entered in your ledger,
each ache written in your book.
Beautiful translations huh? The NIV's translation suddenly seems so cold, so ordinary, not bringing out the emotional essence that God's Word contains. Imagine that. A God who keeps a record of every tear you've cried. It may be in a little bottle, to be released as fireworks the moment you walk through the Pearly Gates. Or it may be on the Hall of Fame, forever engraved in an eternity where anyone can take their time to understand how you felt when the tears were shed.
I don't think God differentiates whether we wept for a good reason or not. There are times when I've shed tears over things or people I know I shouldn't, cried my eyes out in fear of being alone in this world, trace the teardrops in the bathroom mirror just so I know what I look like when I'm in pain. Not every tear is glorifying to Him. Some of my tears come in total disbelief at what He had just crushed, some of them come when He asks me to do something against my pride, some of them come when He makes me feel inadequate just so I get it in my thick skull that I can't fight this world alone.
Yes, I'm sure He keeps every tear you've cried too. Even if they are silly ones. The questions that I have now are these: Do we realize that when we cry in our beds, He is always there, watching and hurting with us too? If you know what that is like, have you ever reached out, hold His face and collect His tears even as He is doing yours?
Immature love says: I love you because I need you. Mature love says: I need you because I love you. -Erich Fromm
I'm beginning to read other translations of the Bible. The NIV Bible is very useful, commonly quoted with endless revelations. Nonetheless, I'm beginning to love The Message Bible, a contemporary translation by Eugene Peterson. He's a poet, a writer and a linguist, and I'm a sucker for poetry. Using Psalms 56:8, let me show you why.
NIV:
Record my lament;
list my tears on your scroll
are they not in your record?
CEV (Contemporary English Version, a really cool one too):
You have kept record
of my days of wandering.
You have stored my tears
in your bottle
and counted each of them.
The Message:
You've kept track of my every toss and turn
through the sleepless nights,
Each tear entered in your ledger,
each ache written in your book.
Beautiful translations huh? The NIV's translation suddenly seems so cold, so ordinary, not bringing out the emotional essence that God's Word contains. Imagine that. A God who keeps a record of every tear you've cried. It may be in a little bottle, to be released as fireworks the moment you walk through the Pearly Gates. Or it may be on the Hall of Fame, forever engraved in an eternity where anyone can take their time to understand how you felt when the tears were shed.
I don't think God differentiates whether we wept for a good reason or not. There are times when I've shed tears over things or people I know I shouldn't, cried my eyes out in fear of being alone in this world, trace the teardrops in the bathroom mirror just so I know what I look like when I'm in pain. Not every tear is glorifying to Him. Some of my tears come in total disbelief at what He had just crushed, some of them come when He asks me to do something against my pride, some of them come when He makes me feel inadequate just so I get it in my thick skull that I can't fight this world alone.
Yes, I'm sure He keeps every tear you've cried too. Even if they are silly ones. The questions that I have now are these: Do we realize that when we cry in our beds, He is always there, watching and hurting with us too? If you know what that is like, have you ever reached out, hold His face and collect His tears even as He is doing yours?
Immature love says: I love you because I need you. Mature love says: I need you because I love you. -Erich Fromm
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Love and Changing Minds
Two days ago, my Sociology lecturer Dr. P. talked about love. Yes, love. A totally taboo topic in Sociology, notoriously unpredictable, irrational and constantly proving theories wrong. It was out of the syllabus, but many people stayed on to listen. Love has such a drawing factor, ever since the beginning of time.
But one thing that caught my attention was this. Some famous social scientist came up with the term the "Post-emotional Era", which was a term to denote how love and intimacy was changing with modernization and globalization. There were two kinds of love: Passionate Love and Romantic Love.
Passionate Love: Erotic attraction for someone, an emotional connection. (The Heart and Soul)
Romantic Love: An intellectual, conscious decision to care for another. (The Mind)
Then Dr. P. pulled a punchline, like he always does.
Question: The reason for so many divorces and break-ups?
Answer: Passionate Love doesn't last long, for emotions always have up and downs, and for some law of gravitation, is usually found to stay down most of the time. Romantic Love usually pulls through longer, being conscious after all, with a bit of effort here and there. Finally, a cognitive savior of marriages. But...
Punchline: People change their minds.
Love cannot be rational simply because people change their minds. Rationality demands for reasons, true love doesn't have any reasons. You change your mind because someone else seems better than your current beau, because you don't feel loved anymore, because you think you deserve better, because you want to have fun and you feel restricted. And usually the answer to unrequited love is a bit of disappointment, depression, dumps, but "Hey, move along." "Find someone else." "Try and love again." "You'll find someone better." But love CAN remain even after one has changed one's mind. Yes, we can finally acknowledge that the person we love is not good enough for us, not as wonderful as we thought them to be, not as fun. We CAN look at another and KNOW that he/she would be better for us. But even so, we can still find love from some other source that makes us love our partner for who he or she is.
Why do you still love her? I don't know.
Why did Jesus love me? I don't know. I don't think there is a reason for it. You can say that "because we are His people." I can say that you were so bloody screwed up He could have just made do with another bunch. Maybe He could destroy all humans and give the antelopes brains that wouldn't be so careless as to sin. You can say that "He had to because He is Love" and I'll reply with "What do you mean He HAD to? Who's God? You or Him?"
There is one more type of love. Pure love. Irrational love. Love without a reason. Love that makes the world go the correct direction when money is pushing it the wrong way. I don't think my love is exactly 100% pure. Maybe I'll forget her one day. Maybe I'll learn to love another. Maybe I'll find out that it wasn't true love at all. Maybe... maybe I'll even rationalize it and internalize that she really wasn't worth the trouble.
The turmoil in my heart is strange because my entire being is convinced that we'll never be together. My mind knows full well that my heart cannot take another rejection like this. My soul can find no reason to risk loving you at the expense of my faith. My strength is zapped trying to prove to myself that I'm better than him for you, or for anyone else. But... a force contradicts all these "truths".
I dunno why I love. Believe me, I've tried to stop myself. But the more I try, the stronger it burns.
I just finished a conversation with someone I've been praying for for a long, long time. Lord, You really answered my prayers, even after making me wait for so long. It's in Your timing Father. Allow me to speak only the words that come from You. +)
Doesn't it occur to you how Love strangely seeps into everything that we see in life? Maybe that's what they mean when they say that God is omnipresent. -Valentino Casanova
But one thing that caught my attention was this. Some famous social scientist came up with the term the "Post-emotional Era", which was a term to denote how love and intimacy was changing with modernization and globalization. There were two kinds of love: Passionate Love and Romantic Love.
Passionate Love: Erotic attraction for someone, an emotional connection. (The Heart and Soul)
Romantic Love: An intellectual, conscious decision to care for another. (The Mind)
Then Dr. P. pulled a punchline, like he always does.
Question: The reason for so many divorces and break-ups?
Answer: Passionate Love doesn't last long, for emotions always have up and downs, and for some law of gravitation, is usually found to stay down most of the time. Romantic Love usually pulls through longer, being conscious after all, with a bit of effort here and there. Finally, a cognitive savior of marriages. But...
Punchline: People change their minds.
Love cannot be rational simply because people change their minds. Rationality demands for reasons, true love doesn't have any reasons. You change your mind because someone else seems better than your current beau, because you don't feel loved anymore, because you think you deserve better, because you want to have fun and you feel restricted. And usually the answer to unrequited love is a bit of disappointment, depression, dumps, but "Hey, move along." "Find someone else." "Try and love again." "You'll find someone better." But love CAN remain even after one has changed one's mind. Yes, we can finally acknowledge that the person we love is not good enough for us, not as wonderful as we thought them to be, not as fun. We CAN look at another and KNOW that he/she would be better for us. But even so, we can still find love from some other source that makes us love our partner for who he or she is.
Why do you still love her? I don't know.
Why did Jesus love me? I don't know. I don't think there is a reason for it. You can say that "because we are His people." I can say that you were so bloody screwed up He could have just made do with another bunch. Maybe He could destroy all humans and give the antelopes brains that wouldn't be so careless as to sin. You can say that "He had to because He is Love" and I'll reply with "What do you mean He HAD to? Who's God? You or Him?"
There is one more type of love. Pure love. Irrational love. Love without a reason. Love that makes the world go the correct direction when money is pushing it the wrong way. I don't think my love is exactly 100% pure. Maybe I'll forget her one day. Maybe I'll learn to love another. Maybe I'll find out that it wasn't true love at all. Maybe... maybe I'll even rationalize it and internalize that she really wasn't worth the trouble.
The turmoil in my heart is strange because my entire being is convinced that we'll never be together. My mind knows full well that my heart cannot take another rejection like this. My soul can find no reason to risk loving you at the expense of my faith. My strength is zapped trying to prove to myself that I'm better than him for you, or for anyone else. But... a force contradicts all these "truths".
I dunno why I love. Believe me, I've tried to stop myself. But the more I try, the stronger it burns.
I just finished a conversation with someone I've been praying for for a long, long time. Lord, You really answered my prayers, even after making me wait for so long. It's in Your timing Father. Allow me to speak only the words that come from You. +)
Doesn't it occur to you how Love strangely seeps into everything that we see in life? Maybe that's what they mean when they say that God is omnipresent. -Valentino Casanova
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Love Remains The Same
I should be sleeping or finishing up my essay that is due for this Friday, but I can't do either. My heart is pierced with the words from someone I long so much for but whose letters I cannot deal with. My mind plays before my eyes recent memories of which you're no further than 30 meters away, tossing your hair, resting your head on your hand, standing up adjusting your belt. Desmond asked if I would be more comfortable if DG was held somewhere else. I lied and said I would be fine where we were.
Every time I hear this song, a sudden wave of bittersweet emotion just overwhelms me. The lyrics are written with much simplicity and honesty. It was also the OST of the only movie we ever watched together, about how the love of two matured people lost in the pain of their past came together and gave one another the will to survive. I wanted to watch it because I thought that Richard Gere was pretty cool and I'm a huge sucker for movies of the romantic genre. Well, "Nights in Rodanthe" wasn't exactly the best movie I've watched, but it will be remembered because of the beautiful girl seated beside me cuddling my arm throughout most of the show, smiling reassuringly whenever I looked to see if she's cold.
Every time I hear this song, a sudden wave of bittersweet emotion just overwhelms me. The lyrics are written with much simplicity and honesty. It was also the OST of the only movie we ever watched together, about how the love of two matured people lost in the pain of their past came together and gave one another the will to survive. I wanted to watch it because I thought that Richard Gere was pretty cool and I'm a huge sucker for movies of the romantic genre. Well, "Nights in Rodanthe" wasn't exactly the best movie I've watched, but it will be remembered because of the beautiful girl seated beside me cuddling my arm throughout most of the show, smiling reassuringly whenever I looked to see if she's cold.
A thousand times I've seen you standing
Gravity like a lunar landing
You make me want to run till I find you
I shut the world away from here
I drift to you, you're all I hear
As everything we know fades to black
Half the time the world is ending
Truth is I am done pretending
I never thought that I
Had anymore to give
You're pushing me so far
Here I am without you
Drink to all that we have lost
Mistakes we have made
Everything will change
But love remains the same
I find a place where we escape
Take you with me for the space
The city buzz sounds just like a fridge
I walk the streets through seven bars
I have to find just where you are
The faces seem to blur
They're all the same
So much more to say
So much to be done
Don't you trick me out
We shall overcome
It's all left still to play
We should've had the sun
Could have been inside
Instead we're over here
Half the time the world is ending
Truth is I am done pretending
Too much time too long defending
You and I are done pretending
I never thought that I
Had anymore to give
You're pushing me so far
Here I am without you
Drink to all that we have lost
Mistakes we have made
Everything will change
Everything will change
I, oh I,
I wish this could last forever
I, oh I,
As if we could last forever
Love remains the same
Love remains the same
When a guy tells you that you're beautiful, don't say that you aren't. Remember that he hates to be told that he's wrong too. -Valentino Casanova
Gravity like a lunar landing
You make me want to run till I find you
I shut the world away from here
I drift to you, you're all I hear
As everything we know fades to black
Half the time the world is ending
Truth is I am done pretending
I never thought that I
Had anymore to give
You're pushing me so far
Here I am without you
Drink to all that we have lost
Mistakes we have made
Everything will change
But love remains the same
I find a place where we escape
Take you with me for the space
The city buzz sounds just like a fridge
I walk the streets through seven bars
I have to find just where you are
The faces seem to blur
They're all the same
So much more to say
So much to be done
Don't you trick me out
We shall overcome
It's all left still to play
We should've had the sun
Could have been inside
Instead we're over here
Half the time the world is ending
Truth is I am done pretending
Too much time too long defending
You and I are done pretending
I never thought that I
Had anymore to give
You're pushing me so far
Here I am without you
Drink to all that we have lost
Mistakes we have made
Everything will change
Everything will change
I, oh I,
I wish this could last forever
I, oh I,
As if we could last forever
Love remains the same
Love remains the same
When a guy tells you that you're beautiful, don't say that you aren't. Remember that he hates to be told that he's wrong too. -Valentino Casanova
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Prawning and Mistaken Identities
I'm just back from prawning! For those of you who have no idea what it is, it's like fishing for prawns in an aquarium. It was my first time "fishing" in my life (if you count that as fishing) and you know what? I loved it. I know why Karl Marx's utopia included fishing inside. There were so many couples fishing today, and they had different styles of interaction. There was this couple of which whom the girl was sitting on the guy's lap and leaning backwards on him like an armchair, each with a fishing rod in hand. Then there was another couple who sat side by side, the girl leaning her head on her boyfriend's shoulder, quietly chatting about god-knows-what but they kept smiling sweetly at one another. Then there was another couple that shared a fishing rod, but that guy was holding his girlfriend's hands and congratulating her every time she caught something (calming her screams and catching hold of the rod when she lets go of it as well).
Seriously, my observations are SO NOT subjective.
Besides the point, one thing I realize was that no one really did anything else besides fishing or talking. Well, some people were there alone fishing, but most people came in groups to fish, and there was much laughter and interaction. No one was using their mobile phones, no one was doing their readings, no one was checking emails on their laptops. Fishing breached the divide caused by new age technology for once. Of course it was also due to the fact that a minimum amount of constant attention was required lest you lose your bait. But overall, I enjoyed the company of my fellow youth groups members, laughing, talking, suaning one another. If not for the hefty price and ulu location, I think it'll be my new hobby.
No wonder Marx thought that the utopia was possible. If everyone went fishing in small little boats, the world would be a much nicer place. Maybe that's why Jesus picked fisherman as His first few disciples and the Lake of Galilee as a hideout during His time of ministry.
Oh just for the record, I broke my unlucky duck. I only stalled the car TWICE on Wednesday. For the last four lessons, it had been three times per two hour session each. And I find that as long as I'm relaxed, my car won't stall. My instructor is damn funny too. As long as everything is okay, he'll be talking about life with me. He's surprise I'm not attached. Can't blame him. He still thinks I'm an "ah sia kia" (I think it means rich kid) who has a Ferrari at home waiting for him to get a license. I still have no idea what is it about me that solidified that impression. I speak to him in broken Hokkien, wear specs and those black army polo tees (that army boys are forced to buy), old sports shoes, take the MRT to Bukit Gombak, pay in exact amounts, appear with an old-fashioned side parting hair, carry an ugly haversack, know where the public toilet is, and ask questions like, "When will I be able to start moving off from first gear as zai as those Comfort taxi drivers?" I don't wear expensive watches or accessories, speak in British English, throw my temper, wear branded clothing, get picked up by a chauffeur from the carpark after class, pay in huge wads of dollars, have extravagant hairstyles, have a branded, metrosexual clutch bag, asks where the toilet is and then tiptoe out with my fingers holding my nose, and ask questions like, "If I have a really good car, how can I zoom to 120km/h within the first 5 seconds of starting off?" Anyone with a good guess to why he thinks I'm an "ah sia kia" please please please let me know.
Oh, about mistaken identity. My urban sociology lecturer thinks I'm a metrosexual, and seriously can't believe that my mum buys my clothing for me. He announced it in front of the entire lecture theatre too. For the record, my mum buys 40% of my shirts, Nick buys 40% of them, 5% are from my friends as birthday gifts etc., and I buy the remaining 15%. I'm serious. To tip things off, the very next lesson, I was presenting to the class about my essay topic on metrosexuality, homosexuality and consumerism as a post-material lifestyle with a materialist behavior. The moment I mentioned the word "gay", Dr. P stopped me and said ,"You're researching on the gay community?" I paused, looked at him and said, "Yeah, is it alright?" He rolled his eyes, smiled at the class and gestured me to continue. I immediately became defensive (I still don't know why I did, but I did) and proclaimed, "I'm not gay." Immediately he shot back, "We didn't have to know that." The whole class roared with laughter. No, I wasn't embarassed. I was having the time of my life as well. But the nagging thought at the corner of my brain just grew a little bigger.
If my professors could suppose that I could be gay or metrosexual, what about other students? The possibility is even greater. Adding on the recent encounters with other gay or bi men over the past few years, I still don't know which part of me is giving the wrong intentions or signals. It was much better last semester (maybe when I'm in love it can be read from my face that "I'm booked" or something), this semester and the semester before last was just... wrong. Sigh.
"Ah sia kia", "metrosexual", "gay". What's next I wonder.
Seriously, my observations are SO NOT subjective.
Besides the point, one thing I realize was that no one really did anything else besides fishing or talking. Well, some people were there alone fishing, but most people came in groups to fish, and there was much laughter and interaction. No one was using their mobile phones, no one was doing their readings, no one was checking emails on their laptops. Fishing breached the divide caused by new age technology for once. Of course it was also due to the fact that a minimum amount of constant attention was required lest you lose your bait. But overall, I enjoyed the company of my fellow youth groups members, laughing, talking, suaning one another. If not for the hefty price and ulu location, I think it'll be my new hobby.
No wonder Marx thought that the utopia was possible. If everyone went fishing in small little boats, the world would be a much nicer place. Maybe that's why Jesus picked fisherman as His first few disciples and the Lake of Galilee as a hideout during His time of ministry.
Oh just for the record, I broke my unlucky duck. I only stalled the car TWICE on Wednesday. For the last four lessons, it had been three times per two hour session each. And I find that as long as I'm relaxed, my car won't stall. My instructor is damn funny too. As long as everything is okay, he'll be talking about life with me. He's surprise I'm not attached. Can't blame him. He still thinks I'm an "ah sia kia" (I think it means rich kid) who has a Ferrari at home waiting for him to get a license. I still have no idea what is it about me that solidified that impression. I speak to him in broken Hokkien, wear specs and those black army polo tees (that army boys are forced to buy), old sports shoes, take the MRT to Bukit Gombak, pay in exact amounts, appear with an old-fashioned side parting hair, carry an ugly haversack, know where the public toilet is, and ask questions like, "When will I be able to start moving off from first gear as zai as those Comfort taxi drivers?" I don't wear expensive watches or accessories, speak in British English, throw my temper, wear branded clothing, get picked up by a chauffeur from the carpark after class, pay in huge wads of dollars, have extravagant hairstyles, have a branded, metrosexual clutch bag, asks where the toilet is and then tiptoe out with my fingers holding my nose, and ask questions like, "If I have a really good car, how can I zoom to 120km/h within the first 5 seconds of starting off?" Anyone with a good guess to why he thinks I'm an "ah sia kia" please please please let me know.
Oh, about mistaken identity. My urban sociology lecturer thinks I'm a metrosexual, and seriously can't believe that my mum buys my clothing for me. He announced it in front of the entire lecture theatre too. For the record, my mum buys 40% of my shirts, Nick buys 40% of them, 5% are from my friends as birthday gifts etc., and I buy the remaining 15%. I'm serious. To tip things off, the very next lesson, I was presenting to the class about my essay topic on metrosexuality, homosexuality and consumerism as a post-material lifestyle with a materialist behavior. The moment I mentioned the word "gay", Dr. P stopped me and said ,"You're researching on the gay community?" I paused, looked at him and said, "Yeah, is it alright?" He rolled his eyes, smiled at the class and gestured me to continue. I immediately became defensive (I still don't know why I did, but I did) and proclaimed, "I'm not gay." Immediately he shot back, "We didn't have to know that." The whole class roared with laughter. No, I wasn't embarassed. I was having the time of my life as well. But the nagging thought at the corner of my brain just grew a little bigger.
If my professors could suppose that I could be gay or metrosexual, what about other students? The possibility is even greater. Adding on the recent encounters with other gay or bi men over the past few years, I still don't know which part of me is giving the wrong intentions or signals. It was much better last semester (maybe when I'm in love it can be read from my face that "I'm booked" or something), this semester and the semester before last was just... wrong. Sigh.
"Ah sia kia", "metrosexual", "gay". What's next I wonder.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
Old saying: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Joke at Love The World Bar: If absence makes the heart grow fonder, a lot of people must love church!
Valentino Casanova: Absence makes the heart grow fonder. The longer people are absent, the more God's heart grows fond of them, and subsequently the more joy it brings to Him when we bring them back into His arms.
Since the start of this year, I'll often wake up in the middle of the night, reaching out for someone who isn't there. My entire soul will then suddenly cave in as like a vacuum: weeping for a partner to love, craving for a soft body to protect, desperate for an intimate physical and psychic connection. Hugging my bolster brings temporary comfort, and I hide my face lest God should notice the loneliness in my eyes. I don't want You to think that You're not enough for me. Ever. God is perfect, and if I feel like this, the problem must lie within me.
If I'm not ready Lord, then why does my heart long for someone so badly?
If it's not time Lord, then why do these feelings haunt my mind?
If it's not in Your will Lord, then why does temptation pit my hormones against my commonsense so often?
Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. But one begins to wonder what happens if the absence is extended much longer than one's hope can possibly be stretched.
Joke at Love The World Bar: If absence makes the heart grow fonder, a lot of people must love church!
Valentino Casanova: Absence makes the heart grow fonder. The longer people are absent, the more God's heart grows fond of them, and subsequently the more joy it brings to Him when we bring them back into His arms.
Since the start of this year, I'll often wake up in the middle of the night, reaching out for someone who isn't there. My entire soul will then suddenly cave in as like a vacuum: weeping for a partner to love, craving for a soft body to protect, desperate for an intimate physical and psychic connection. Hugging my bolster brings temporary comfort, and I hide my face lest God should notice the loneliness in my eyes. I don't want You to think that You're not enough for me. Ever. God is perfect, and if I feel like this, the problem must lie within me.
If I'm not ready Lord, then why does my heart long for someone so badly?
If it's not time Lord, then why do these feelings haunt my mind?
If it's not in Your will Lord, then why does temptation pit my hormones against my commonsense so often?
Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. But one begins to wonder what happens if the absence is extended much longer than one's hope can possibly be stretched.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Romeo and Juliet
Juliet:
Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night:
It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
Romeo:
O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night:
It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
Romeo:
O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
To Write Love On Her Arms
During DG today, I noticed a badge on Shane's shirt. A small pink badge that wrote "To Write Love On Her Arms". Casually, not thinking much of it, I just asked what it stood for. And imagine my amazement when I heard it.
It was a Christian-based movement for suicidal teens. One of the things that a large majority of them did was to cut their arms with razor blades, pen knifes, anything sharp that they could get their hands on. Initially, being totally naive and living in a high-class, protected and sheltered world, I never did understand why people could do such self-mutilating acts. Doesn't it hurt? Doesn't it leaves ugly scars?
But last year, I learned. Those questions became... just silly. Of course it hurt. It was meant to. The physical pain was meant to overshadow the emotional pain, even if temporary. The external scars didn't matter, what mattered was the scars inside. The scars outside would heal. Some people even have Wolverine-like healing abilities. Deep cuts would disappear within a week, like it never happened. But what doesn't heal? The scars inside. Those scars need healing that comes from emotional support from a community, from the knowledge that they're not alone, from a divine power. Sometimes emotional detachment through loving another, experiencing the "high" of power and infatuation, or even drugs, does wonders, but only temporarily. Soon the relationship ends, the position of power crumble, infatuation hits reality and drugs wear off, and the situation is made worse than before. The cuts get deeper, more frequent, less effective. The "high" of pain begins to fade, and one begins to contemplate suicide.
And you know what? I've been praying for a vision for the band that I am planning to start up, a cause to fight for, a platform to reach out to youths through music. And suddenly, this inspiration hits home. The pieces fit! Voices that soothe and heal, music that touches the soul, words that give people hope to live on. Songs that connect, musicians dedicated to loving the unlovely, an atmosphere that reveals more to life than a failed self.
Needs a bit more prayer. Step one is forming up. Cool. Beautiful. Now to continue praying and find the right people.
One day, I hope to write that on your arms too. Everyday for the rest of our lives.
By the way, I never did send you anything since Valentine's Day. Anything material, that is. But, my feelings for you remain the same. Don't ever doubt that.
It was a Christian-based movement for suicidal teens. One of the things that a large majority of them did was to cut their arms with razor blades, pen knifes, anything sharp that they could get their hands on. Initially, being totally naive and living in a high-class, protected and sheltered world, I never did understand why people could do such self-mutilating acts. Doesn't it hurt? Doesn't it leaves ugly scars?
But last year, I learned. Those questions became... just silly. Of course it hurt. It was meant to. The physical pain was meant to overshadow the emotional pain, even if temporary. The external scars didn't matter, what mattered was the scars inside. The scars outside would heal. Some people even have Wolverine-like healing abilities. Deep cuts would disappear within a week, like it never happened. But what doesn't heal? The scars inside. Those scars need healing that comes from emotional support from a community, from the knowledge that they're not alone, from a divine power. Sometimes emotional detachment through loving another, experiencing the "high" of power and infatuation, or even drugs, does wonders, but only temporarily. Soon the relationship ends, the position of power crumble, infatuation hits reality and drugs wear off, and the situation is made worse than before. The cuts get deeper, more frequent, less effective. The "high" of pain begins to fade, and one begins to contemplate suicide.
And you know what? I've been praying for a vision for the band that I am planning to start up, a cause to fight for, a platform to reach out to youths through music. And suddenly, this inspiration hits home. The pieces fit! Voices that soothe and heal, music that touches the soul, words that give people hope to live on. Songs that connect, musicians dedicated to loving the unlovely, an atmosphere that reveals more to life than a failed self.
Needs a bit more prayer. Step one is forming up. Cool. Beautiful. Now to continue praying and find the right people.
One day, I hope to write that on your arms too. Everyday for the rest of our lives.
By the way, I never did send you anything since Valentine's Day. Anything material, that is. But, my feelings for you remain the same. Don't ever doubt that.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Fireproof
I've only watched the trailer to this movie, but I already like it. The aim of this Christian movie is to show that no relationship can work out without God. None.
"A real man has gotta be a real hero to his wife, before he can be to anybody else."
"Don't just follow your heart, LEAD your heart."
"A real man has gotta be a real hero to his wife, before he can be to anybody else."
"Don't just follow your heart, LEAD your heart."
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Should I?!
She's just changed her number! And... I wasn't one of the privileged to be notified.
Should I ask?
Should I ask?
Should I ask?
=(
Should I ask?
Should I ask?
Should I ask?
=(
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