Exam Results

My results are out, and to be honest it was unexpected. Subjects that I expected to do well in I didn't hit my target, and those I was prepared to S/U turned out amazingly fantastic. But all in all, this is my best semester yet.

JS2226: Global City Tokyo A
MNO1001: Human Management and Organization A-
SC3202: Modernization and Globalization A
SC3206: Urban Sociology A-
SC3219: Sexuality in Comparative Perspective B

If there is any secret dissatisfaction, it comes from the fact that a cap of 4.5/5.0 is no sure sign that I'll get into the Dean's List this semester. And it is also probably the last chance for me to ever get into the Dean's List too. But oh well. I should have saw it coming the moment I got the SC3219 module. The lecturer is gay and fanatically anti-Christ, while I apparently attract unwanted attention from gays and make sure I wear my cross for everyone of his lectures. I also take my seat no further than the fourth row right in his face. My current reputation in the Sociology department adds to my notoriety, so that adds up to the possibility of me being targeted.

Or I could be thinking too much.

But honestly, a B for a Sociology module?? It's my lowest grade for any Sociology module, and the last B I got was Data Analysis, of which I couldn't do statistics for nuts that's why I deserved that grade. Nonetheless I should have seen it coming anyway. Should have done some other more harmless module like Sociology of Science and Technology (which would have bored me to tears) or Sociology of Food (like "huh"). Shouldn't have been so arrogant as to think that since I got an A+ for Sociology of Gender that the result should grant me the virtue of thinking I can score equally well for Sexuality.

I should have known that the statement "Christianity is against homosexual acts but not homosexual identities" would have alerted him. There is only one person in the entire 200-strong cohort who would dare to state that in the final exam paper worth 40%, and he knows who. Everyone else would write that homosexuality is oppressed by Christianity which wields its power as a dominant religion to marginalize identities, acts, lifestyles, etc. Yes, I do understand that Christianity marginalizes homosexuals, and yes I do agree. But completely? If there is any learning perspective that I have gained in Sociology, I've learn to by critical of judgments that make sweeping statements. There are Christian denominations that accept homosexuals and even various forms of homosexuality, even if I personally don't agree with them.

Forgive me Sir. I cannot and will not write what I do not believe in. If you will allow your narrow-mindedness to influence the way you mark the essays, I'll gladly take the B and hold it close to my heart, even if that one grade destroys my hopes of getting into the Dean's List.






And forgive me Lord, if my mind has been so clouded by not being able to hit the Dean's List that I forget that this has been by far my best semester in NUS ever. Forgive me for all the bitching and complaining when comparatively my thanksgiving should be the one taking up WAY more word space. All glory to You and You alone. +)






To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, to live gratitude is to touch Heaven. -Johannes A. Gaertner

All are Welcome

Let us build a house where love can dwell
And all can safely live
A place where saints and children tell
How hearts learn to forgive.
Built of hopes, dreams and visions
Rock of faith and vault of grace
Here the love of Christ shall end divisions
All are welcome in this place.

As I read this poem by Marty Haugen inscribed on the entrance to the school foyer, my heart just softened for a moment. In the silence, a voice spoke of a love that words cannot describe, a mosaic of portraits depicting a barrage of heartaches that music cannot invoke, a fire within burned with a desire that zeal cannot be compared with.


In tandem with this poem, the mission of the school goes like this:

To create a Christ-centered school community where all work together for the promotion of truth, justice, freedom and love, with special reference to the needs of the pupils who are disadvantaged in any way.

Truth, justice, freedom and love. Besides these four ideals, nothing else have more martyrs in this world lived a fuller life, and died a glorious death, for.

Disadvantaged in any way. Jesus came for the lost, why should anyone longing to follow in His footsteps be any different?








How can my heart remain in contentment as the world sinks deeper into the mire that it has created for itself? Let discontentment and a longing for the return of the True King characterize the drive behind every single breath I take till the day He calls me home.













It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live. -Marcus Aurelius

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? -Paul, quoting the prophets Isaiah and Hosea (1 Cor 15:55)

It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means, "I desire mercy, not sacrifice." For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners. - Jesus (Matt 9:12-13)

She Will Be Loved

She Will Be Loved (Maroon 5)

Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else

I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved

Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get insecure
It doesn't matter anymore

It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want

Took out the bridge because it didn't contain anything that I wanted to say. Quite the contrary actually.




My dentist fixed my teeth for free because I didn't seem like one of the "numerous vainpot customers" he has everyday and because he couldn't stand seeing my smile "pleasantly nice, but just not perfect". So I got a cosmetic fix worth $200 dollars FOC. Whee.

But I realized one thing also. Besides the fact that my dentist is a really brilliant guy who's main concern is people's dental health-care and not demands by metrosexuals, there's something we have in common: we cannot stand certain things in people, especially if we have the power/gift/ talent to change it. My dentist wants to give everyone a brilliant smile with his education in dentistry and his passion for his patients, and he just can't stand people who don't have perfect smiles. So I became one of his victims.

Following that trend of thought, is there something that I cannot stand in people? I cannot stand people with no passion, no goal in life, no direction, who have no idea what they're on Earth for. Yes, I'm biased towards females, I'm not so hard on them in this respect. But for the guys around me, I really, really cannot stand it. As a man, society is structured in a way that in most encounters you are called to lead and make decisions. A man with no direction or value system is a man with no ability to make firm, hard decisions and stick to them. Thus, I am driven to use my gift to inspire, motivate, encourage others through my words, songs, actions, lifestyle.

But there's one more thing I cannot stand. For those people close to me, I cannot stand it when they're not smiling. That's why I've been given gifts and opportunities to grow as a comedian, a peace-maker, an entertainer, an intimate lover.






Is it no wonder that I find such pain when the opportunity to put a smile on the face of someone I love suddenly taken away? Does not the pain only exacerbate further when it happens to be something that I'm good at, that I was born to do? Is not the sorrow endless when my faith in God permits me to know for sure that there is nothing that we cannot accomplish, even when the odds of the situation were stacked against us?










Never a lips is curved with pain; That can't be kissed into smiles again. -Bret Harte

Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. -2 Tim 1:4

My Communication Style (INFJ)

The Sage

Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging

Quietly forceful, original, and sensitive. Tend to stick to things until they are done. Extremely intuitive about people, and concerned for their feelings. Well-developed value systems which they strictly adhere to. Well-respected for their perserverence in doing the right thing. Likely to be individualistic, rather than leading or following.

As an INFJ, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you take things in primarily via intuition. Your secondary mode is external, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit with your personal value system.

INFJs are gentle, caring, complex and highly intuitive individuals. Artistic and creative, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. Only one percent of the population has an INFJ Personality Type, making it the most rare of all the types.

INFJs place great importance on havings things orderly and systematic in their outer world. They put a lot of energy into identifying the best system for getting things done, and constantly define and re-define the priorities in their lives. On the other hand, INFJs operate within themselves on an intuitive basis which is entirely spontaneous. They know things intuitively, without being able to pinpoint why, and without detailed knowledge of the subject at hand. They are usually right, and they usually know it. Consequently, INFJs put a tremendous amount of faith into their instincts and intuitions. This is something of a conflict between the inner and outer worlds, and may result in the INFJ not being as organized as other Judging types tend to be. Or we may see some signs of disarray in an otherwise orderly tendency, such as a consistently messy desk.

INFJs have uncanny insight into people and situations. They get "feelings" about things and intuitively understand them. As an extreme example, some INFJs report experiences of a psychic nature, such as getting strong feelings about there being a problem with a loved one, and discovering later that they were in a car accident. This is the sort of thing that other types may scorn and scoff at, and the INFJ themself does not really understand their intuition at a level which can be verbalized. Consequently, most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive.

But the INFJ is as genuinely warm as they are complex. INFJs hold a special place in the heart of people who they are close to, who are able to see their special gifts and depth of caring. INFJs are concerned for people's feelings, and try to be gentle to avoid hurting anyone. They are very sensitive to conflict, and cannot tolerate it very well. Situations which are charged with conflict may drive the normally peaceful INFJ into a state of agitation or charged anger. They may tend to internalize conflict into their bodies, and experience health problems when under a lot of stress.

Because the INFJ has such strong intuitive capabilities, they trust their own instincts above all else. This may result in an INFJ stubborness and tendency to ignore other people's opinions. They believe that they're right. On the other hand, INFJ is a perfectionist who doubts that they are living up to their full potential. INFJs are rarely at complete peace with themselves - there's always something else they should be doing to improve themselves and the world around them. They believe in constant growth, and don't often take time to revel in their accomplishments. They have strong value systems, and need to live their lives in accordance with what they feel is right. In deference to the Feeling aspect of their personalities, INFJs are in some ways gentle and easy going. Conversely, they have very high expectations of themselves, and frequently of their families. They don't believe in compromising their ideals.

INFJ is a natural nurturer; patient, devoted and protective. They make loving parents and usually have strong bonds with their offspring. They have high expectations of their children, and push them to be the best that they can be. This can sometimes manifest itself in the INFJ being hard-nosed and stubborn. But generally, children of an INFJ get devoted and sincere parental guidance, combined with deep caring.

In the workplace, the INFJ usually shows up in areas where they can be creative and somewhat independent. They have a natural affinity for art, and many excel in the sciences, where they make use of their intuition. INFJs can also be found in service-oriented professions. They are not good at dealing with minutia or very detailed tasks. The INFJ will either avoid such things, or else go to the other extreme and become enveloped in the details to the extent that they can no longer see the big picture. An INFJ who has gone the route of becoming meticulous about details may be highly critical of other individuals who are not.

The INFJ individual is gifted in ways that other types are not. Life is not necessarily easy for the INFJ, but they are capable of great depth of feeling and personal achievement.

Other Famous INFJs:

Martin Luther King, Jr.
Mother Teresa
Oprah Winfrey
Mel Gibson

Besides the messy desk, everything else is spot on. I like. +)

Take the test and post on my tagboard what you are! +)

The Burden of Knowing

"The best thing for being sad, is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins... you may see the world around you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honor trampled in the sewer of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then - to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the thing for you." -Merlin to the future King Arthur, offering a cure for his sadness and pain (T.H. White, The Once and Future King)




The unfulfilment within me pushes me to learn "why the world wags and what wags it". That's why I chose Sociology. And the more I learn, the more I know; and the more I know, the more hopelessness I feel, the heavier the misery which weighs down on my heart.



The world needs a visionary, one who comes in the name of Another, the thongs of whose sandals I'm not worthy to untie.






I smell a revolution arising. It is time.






For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief. -Solomon (Ecclesiastes 1:18)

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!" -Isaiah 6:8

Choose Wisely

Husband After Wedding





Wife After Wedding





Choose wisely. Marriage is for a lifetime.




Marriage is like lottery, but you can't tear up your ticket if you lose. -F.M. Knowles

But those who marry will face many troubles in this life, and I want to spare you this. -Paul (1 Cor 7:28b)

The Real Me

I'm nothing but a sad little runt whose bark is no scarier than its bite. Wait, I don't even bite. But I'll promise you the world, if you would only love me again.

She Walks In Beauty
Written by: Lord Byron (1788-1824)

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

I read the poem at the Convent's school library because no teaching internship stuff had been assigned to me yet, and the very first person I thought of was...





You.










The soul is not where it lives, but where it loves. -Anonymous

Many a man claims to have unfailing love, but a faithful man, who can find? -Solomon (Proverbs 20:6)

Anorexia Voices

"And by the way, Victor, you're not fat."

I shrugged off the remark as something any concern parent would say to her child. But as the running got underway and my mind unconsciously began to reflect, it hit me. My mum is not one to give verbal encouragement, and when she does, I know she's serious. She's getting worried.

How could I blame her? As I looked back, since the exams ended I've been running and going to the gym more often than ever. Together with Andrew and my mum, the family has begun a switch to a "eat less" diet. The suffering minority (Dad and Nicholas) thus has to put up with simpler, blander foods, with Nicholas as usual verbalizing his displeasure often enough to hurt my parents. Andrew's new weighing scale which can measure fat percentage is being utilized more often, leaving the old trusty spring scale to rust in the corner. I'm eating lesser and lesser, although still significantly more than the ladies in church, but much less than my usual portion. It still isn't noticeable that I'm asking for white rice, and less of it too, from Lao Di Fang. I even had to tell my parents that I don't go for second helpings now not because their cooking has gotten lousier, but that I'm just trying to cut down.

And it has been effective. Even as I sit on my chair, my tail bone can touch the seat. Never before has my butt decreased so much to this extent. My thighs are thinner after all the running; I didn't notice till Yaosheng remarked last week in church about how his thighs were still as huge as ever, and I chided him for making that remark next to someone like me whose thighs were "definitely" larger than his. Nonetheless, a quick glance (and a few more to confirm the horror) was that my thighs are now thinner than his! The funny thing is that according to the weighing scale I'm still at 74kg, and worse still, one day I can look fat as hell, the next day I can look scrawny.

Which comes to my next point. I find that I cannot trust my own vision anymore. The whole world is telling me that I look really slim now, and although I shrug it away as nonsense, I cannot help but wonder if they're telling the truth. But when I'm more awake and realistic in front of the mirror, I'm starting to find that it's no longer a dream. A month or two and (thanks to my parents' genes) I'll have the figure of an Abercrombie and Fitch model, save for the six-pack which still enjoys remaining a four-pack while my butt has slimmed down dangerously to the point it no longer serves its purposes as a cushion for the spine.

It's been a while since I've been toying with the voices in my head. Out of curiousity and for experimentation purposes, I've been fooling around with the supposed voices that go through the minds of sufferers of anorexia. It's under control (most of the time, unless I just binged down enough to make me guilty) and I've been listening to how these voices manipulate one's mind. They don't sound like the voices of demons or the Devil for that matter, low-pitch and disgustingly self-inflicting. They sound just like my own voice. With a logical and rational perspective, they push their point across clearly and matter-of-factly. Some of them go like this:

"It's the holidays, you might as well use the time to slim down."
"It's better than fooling around with Restaurant City, Hell's Kitchen Game or Bejeweled."
"To be a good steward, one has to make use of the resources God has given. An intellect, determination and genetics."
"You're single because you don't try hard enough. Since you don't have the money, then use secondary options like personal character, charm, oh, and of course, physical features."

Secretly, I know most of them are half-lies. I've plenty of things I have to do during the holidays, I don't play Facebook games that much to be considered a time-wasting endeavor, good stewardship comes from the usage of resources for God's kingdom first and foremost, not for personal gain, and I'm single because I'm super picky, not because I don't try hard enough. But I entertain them because they drive me on, often to the point of believing these absurb statements just long enough to feel the effects. Even then, I'm still (very eccentrically) analyzing these voices, and I can't figure if they come from a third party or from myself. The fact that sometimes these statements can completely obliverate my own ego, especially with the more irrational but equally believable accusations, reminds me to thank God for the voice of the Holy Spirit which restores my sanity to equilibrium. Nonetheless, it's scary, given their potential to harm one's mind. As time goes by and I tackle and battle these voices in my head, I begin to understand the difficulty by the doctors and counsellors who have experienced handling clients with anorexia and written tons of literature on the subject. And I have become more and more convinced that a medicalized perspective or psychological treatments will not be able to solve this problem. Unfortunately, that's the only alternative a secular, rational society can conjure up, and this problem looks set to grow exponentially as time goes by.

My biggest revelation yet? As I toy with these anorexia voices, I have began to unearth some of the more dangerous, long-standing and terrible ones in my head. So ungodly, black and sickening that the anorexia ones cannot stand in comparison. The very ones that have directed my actions and thoughts for more than half my life, and stand cunningly in total opposition to the voice of the Holy Spirit. And I'm beginning to suspect that these voices affect as many men in the world today as anorexia voices affect women.






Be careful what you wish for, 'cause you might just get it all, you might just get it all... and then some you don't want. -Chris Daughtry, from the lyrics of the song Home

Wouldn't it be good to be in your shoes, even if it was for just one day? Wouldn't it be good if we could wish ourselves away. -Nik Kershaw, from the lyrics of the song Wouldn't It Be Good

I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. -Paul (Romans 7:18)

An Extravagant Request

Should I die before my dream is fulfilled, let it be recorded that the author of this blog, like Elisha the prophet once did ask extravagantly, desired to have:

The zeal of D.L. Moody,
The conviction of John Sung,
The fundamental beliefs of Charles R. Fuller,
The dramaticness of Billy Sunday,
The Bible memory of Dawson Trotman,
The charisma of Billy Graham,
The scholarly language of C.S. Lewis,
The preaching authority of C.H. Spurgeon,
The determination of Eric Liddell,
The friendliness of Bill Bright,
The forgiveness of Corrie ten Boom,
The eyes of Fanny Crossby,
The love for the weak and helpless of Martin Luther King Jr.,
The hardiness of David Livingstone,
The vision of George Verwer.




But should God answer none of these requests, all this author wants is this:


The heart of Jesus Christ.




I have settled it once and for all with the Lord. No girl or friend or anything shall ever come first in my life. I have resolved that the Lord Jesus shall have all of me. I care not what the future holds. I have determined to follow Him at any cost. -Billy Graham, after a disappointing romance where the girl whom he was courting chose someone else. God later provided Ruth Bell, described as an "unusually beautiful woman, popular, and a devoted Christian". That she accepted Graham's proposal for marriage said much because her ideals for a marriage partner were well-known to be unreasonably high.

Ruth Bell's cheeks appear from frequent smiling!

But if I want you to remain single until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me. -Jesus, to Valentino, on a depressingly cold and lonely December night in 2008.

The Dogwood Tree

Once upon a time, there was a tree that grew along the road to the Holy City. It wasn't a very big and mighty tree, nor was it a beautiful one that bore delicious fruit. In fact, compared to his neighbors around him like the Oak tree or the Olive tree, there was nothing special about him at all. They all laughed at him for being small and useless, and worse of all, dogs came to pee at his feet often! Thus he was aptly named the Dogwood tree.

One day, there was news that Jesus would be walking past, but from afar. Oh, how he wanted to see that great man who was the big talk of town, but his feet were rooted to the ground. It didn't help that the mighty Oak tree was tall enough to see that great man, and the Olive tree was constantly boasting about how she heard from her relatives at the nearby mount about the stories that Jesus told. Everyone wanted to see Jesus, the Dogwood tree most of all. But alas, the things that we cannot have, only burn our hearts with desire even more for them.

One rainy day, the Oak tree remarked, "Oh, how I love Jesus. I'll do anything for Him." The Olive tree chipped in too, "I'll do absolutely anything for Jesus too. He's the most wonderful person in the world." The Dogwood tree said nothing. He was too embarrassed. After all, who would want him? What would Jesus ever want to do with a ugly, stunted tree full of dog urine at his feet? Tears streamed down from his face, but his neighbors didn't notice anything. After all, it was raining, and they were too engrossed in their conversation to notice his feelings.

One month before the Passover celebration, some woodcutters came to chop down the mighty Oak tree. The Dogwood tree was horrified, but the Oak tree looked at him and said reassuringly, "Don't worry about me, Dogwood. Jesus came to me in a dream last night, and He asked, 'Oak, would you give all of yourself to me?' I looked at Him and replied, 'Lord, I can give 10% of myself to You, the rest I would like to choose what I can be.' Jesus smiled and nodded His head. So now, 10% of me will be used to build the huge beam on which the glorious curtain of the Holy Temple will be hung on. The other 90% will be used as furniture in homes, to be useful to mankind." As he finished, the woodcutters took him away.

A week before the Passover celebration, some women came to the Olive tree to collect her fruit. They looked mighty delicious, and the Olive tree was proud of them. "Dogwood, Jesus came to me in a dream last night too, and He asked, 'Olive, would you give all of yourself to me?' I look at Him and replied, 'Lord, I can give 50% of myself to You, the rest I would like to choose what I can be.' Jesus smiled and nodded His head. So now, 50% of me, specifically the fruits that I have bore for this season, will be used as the base solution for the perfume to be poured on Jesus' feet. The other 50% I will live on for one more harvesting season to bear fruit for mankind before I die." As she finished, the women took her fruits away and into the city where it was mixed with some of the most wonderful spices the world had ever known in an alabaster jar.

The night of the Passover celebration, Jesus appeared to the Dogwood tree. He asked, "Dogwood, would you give all of yourself to me?" The Dogwood tree began to cry. He really didn't know what he could ever contribute to Jesus. He wasn't like the Oak, whose wood was strong and sturdy, nor was He like the Olive whose fruit was so precious to the people. "Lord," he replied in-between sobs, "I don't know what You could possibly want to do with an ugly, useless tree like me. But if I may, I would give 100% of myself to You, and so much more if I could only afford to. Use me as You will." Jesus smiled and nodded His head. "Dogwood, your reply means so much more to me than you will ever know." And then He left.

Suddenly from nowhere, a few soldiers came to chop down the Dogwood tree. Their axes were sharp and their hands brutal, tearing down his branches and chopping off his roots. The pain was excruciating, and Dogwood began to doubt if Jesus really meant what He said. But he bore the agony, and before long, he found himself transported into a prison.

There, Dogwood saw a man flogged and forced to carry his body up the hill. The people were jeering, and Dogwood realized that he was used as an instrument of execution. The man carrying him was going to die! At the top of the hill, the arms and feet of this criminal were hammered in to his body with rusty nails and lifted up into the darkening sky. Dogwood looked around, this wasn't how he wanted to be used! This wasn't what Jesus promised him!

Then he heard a voice. The criminal was speaking, his voice soft and weak. And that voice, oh that familiar voice, where did he hear it from? That's right, his dream! It was Jesus that was nailed to him. His beloved Jesus was dying right upon him, and there he was, lifting Jesus up on Mount Golgotha for the whole world to see and know that a Savior had come to give man God's gift of salvation and hope for all eternity.

Jesus was breathing heavily now. He won't last much longer. But Dogwood vowed to continue holding Him up, till His last breath. No, he won't collapse now, no he'll continue to stand strong. Then finally, Jesus whispered the most beautiful words that anyone had ever said to him.



"Thank you."



As the raindrops fell, the beautiful Oak beam on which the curtain in the temple was hung on was broken into two. The lingering scent of the perfume made from the Olive oil gradually faded as blood poured down over feet nailed to the cross. At that moment, Dogwood knew that there was no way he could have had made a mistake by choosing to give everything he had to Jesus.




Jesus came for 100% of you, nothing more, and nothing less.







I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on. -Jesus (Mark 12:43-44)

For those God foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those He predestined, He also called; those He called, He also justified; those He justified, He also glorified. -Romans 8:29-30

A Dream Occupation

After seeing Barcelona come back from 10-men down for a stunning victory, I realize what job I want in the future. There, see their manager Pep Guardiola? Cool huh? I want a job where I can wear a tuxedo and go around hopping like a madman, celebrating with the team and jumping into the "dao pok" with them. (Sadly I don't have the picture of him running towards his team with his hands in the air and his coat flying about, it looked so comical! But it was inspiring too.)




Why, you might ask? Firstly, because I look best in a tuxedo, and secondly, because I want a job where I can put my entire passion and heart in. Nothing less, or Victor will die. And don't worry, I don't mind getting my coat dirty. But if I can't dance, jump, sing, celebrate on the job, I don't see what's the point of doing it. And no, I don't want to be a soccer manager. I love the game, but not to the point of suffering heart attacks for it.







What is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person. Are we not, for most of our lives, marking time? Most of our being is at rest, unlived. In passion, the body and the spirit seek expression outside of self. Passion is all that is other from self. Sex is only interesting when it releases passion. The more extreme and the more expressed that passion is, the more unbearable does life seem without it. It reminds us that if passion dies or is denied, we are partly dead and that soon, come what may, we will be wholly so. -John Boorman

So I saw that there is nothing better for a man than to enjoy his work, for that is his lot. For who can bring him to see what will happen after him? -Solomon (Ecc 3:22)

Ugly Tomatoes

My mum was telling me about her childhood days again today over dinner. Somehow, the topic drifted to tomatoes, and she mentioned about how she had a wonderful neighbor (in the suburban neighborhood of Muar where she grew up) who grew tomatoes to sell at the market. And because the relationship between both families were really close, they usually made mutual, social exchanges. My maternal grandfather was the Chairman of the Luichew clan in town, making him one of the most influential men in the district, so the neighbor came to him often for small personal requests which he would try to help out if possible. In return, the neighbor would always give my mum's family tomatoes every week. Of course, they had to do business, so the best tomatoes got to the market, while the mishappened ones, or the ones with small bruises, dents, were given to my mum's family. In those days, to get free food was a blessing from heaven, no one really complained about how they look. And it was always appreciated. (Thank you to whoever you are, now I know how come my mum has her lovely, rosy cheeks. Man, come to think about it, every girl I've ever loved either had rosy cheeks or used a blusher often)

Anyway, back to the story. So that's how the subject of tomatoes came about. Then while I was collecting the dishes to bring them into the kitchen, a thought struck me.

If I were a tomato, which tomato would I be? The beautiful, sweet-looking one, the ordinary one, or the ugly, misshapen one? I assume the greatest goal of every tomato is to be consumed appreciatively by their... consumers. Then I thought about it.

The first one to be eliminated would be the ordinary one. Why? Because not all the tomatoes are sold at the end of the day. And since the ugly ones have been given free, and the beautiful ones bought, those remaining at the end of the day (and have to be thrown away) are these ordinary ones. Thus, if I were an ordinary tomato, I'll be nowhere near achieving my purpose for living.

The second one to eliminate (and alot of people might think me strange) I choose to eliminate being the beautiful tomato. Why? Because if you sit down and think about it, tomatoes aren't exactly the most outstanding of fruits. They're pretty tasteless, if not sourish, and a high percentage of it is just water. Thus, it isn't really noticed when eaten, even if bought at a price, and therefore not really appreciated specially. The ugly tomato however, came with symbolic meaning, representative of social ties, and with it, much love and appreciation. Moreover, my mum's family wasn't rich (which is testimony to my grandfather's charisma and social skills) and thus they always ate the tomatoes. Thus, when looking at the tomato dish today, she can still recall her neighbor and the close community ties that are pretty non-existent in Singapore today.

There's nothing wrong with being ugly, weak, easily-exploited or marginalized. God made this world to be full of paradoxes to fool man's greatest wisdom: rationality. And it's always the people that this world deems as invisible, forgotten, valueless, who God puts the most meaning and does the most number of wonders in their lives. So if you're an ugly tomato, there's no need to envy the beautiful ones. There's so much more in you that they might never find in themselves.



This is the paradox of beauty.



Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. -Kahlil Gilbran

Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. -1 Peter 3:4

Sickness and Examinations

Victor only gets really bad tempered on two occasions. Firstly, when he's very tired AND very hungry, and secondly, when he gets sick.

The last 24 hours was a killer. It started out with a toothache; my wisdom tooth suddenly decided to force its way out. Then, it subsided because of a worser event, I think it's food poisoning. Won't be eating the mixed food from that stall for a while. I puked, I purged, my temperature fluctuated randomly and I could hardly sleep. It's funny when you see food in it's original form coming out of your arse. It's not funny when it comes out of your mouth and through your nose. Sorry if I scared you Tams.

On top of that, I had an exam later today too. Couldn't study because my hands were too weak to draw the mind-maps, and I kept stoning or looking at my Restaurant City game if I weren't puking and shitting my guts out. And to think that my brain and my hand could settle the Hell's Kitchen game and hit a high score even then. But no, I didn't want to study. Tried to sleep, but fever came up and the room became too cold to stay in for long, so I moved to the sitting room. Thank God my prayers were answered and I reached semi-sleep mode from 4-7am, and from 7am to 10am.

When I woke up, I called my disciples to pray for me urgently, and I gobbled a banana just before going to school. Downed a bottle of 100 plus before the paper to replace the salt content and prayed that the gas might be released from my stomach. I still didn't want to study, so all I could do was hope that my conscientious work over the semester helped. And it did.

Thanks for those who knew my plight and prayed for me. Despite shivering throughout the entire exam, feeling really sleepy and weak, with occasional breathlessness, with God's help I penned out one of the best Soci papers for this final examination. Even better than the last two, despite being much more adequately prepared for those. In a way, doing mind-maps and having fixed pictures to regurgitate during exams are useful, but it also fixes me to stringent models that aren't flexible. However, for this paper, I just went in knowing what I knew, and God enabled me to draw links and make connections that I would not have made if I stuck to mind-maps. "In my weakness is His strength made known."



All glory to You Lord.



I haven't fully recovered yet, but it's getting much better. At least no more puking and the fever is becoming more occasional. Oh, I'm now at my lowest weight ever, 73.4kg. Yes, my goal is to hit 70kg, but not with puking and purging please. It's a terrible, painful way to suffer.




He that eats till he is sick must fast till he is well. -Hebrew Proverb