Starless nights

Nights like these
drive you crazy;
when even starless skies
mocks
reeking of solitude
and runs away with the moon

Perhaps.

Hello world. Pardon my disappearance for a couple (months).

Blogging was never an obligation for me, and i say that with apologies, for i doubt it'll ever be. Maybe it should (though i don't see how), but perhaps in knowing my posts live on a certain something for its existence, would aptly explain the lack in its frequency- 'inspiration', they call it.

However with that said, this post is none of inspiration nor motivation; just a mere case of fatigue, frustration and the unfortunate lack of a listening ear.

My life, (or school life rather since there's all there is t it now) has been going downhill. My job, school, dance class, table tennis.. t be entirely honest it'll take superman t cope. And i sure ain't no superman. My mom's making me quit the job at GV. "You can't cope", she says. And perhaps she's right.

Perhaps she's always right. Perhaps I'd prefer t have this honourable gift of thought taken from me- this inquisitive nature t question; t find a reason for everything. Perhaps sometimes things just are. Perhaps sometimes it's okay t follow; t conform; t not stand out. Perhaps it's fortunate not t be that one in a million (that everyone aims t achieve). Perhaps heroes have it hard (and never recognised only till after their deaths). Perhaps regrets are excuses. Perhaps prevention isn't better than cure. Perhaps it's not death that scares us, but the life after (or the lack of). Perhaps t get more, we should expect less. Perhaps all it takes t do more 'Right's, is just t do less 'Wrong's.

Perhaps.

Pet pet.

Hi, this is zhihao's turtle typing (trust me i took a month t figure out how) , he's dead so send your condolences. Cash will do, but we do accept cheques, visa, what not.



Says Aver.

And i dont know you anymore, or perhaps i never did, before.

Who was i t think i was different;
Just a page boy- nothing more.

The page boy- the silent role
someone he chanced, a heart he stole
but heart's a heart without its soul
a mere organ you can control

and here he falls, t his knees
this heart he so yearns t please
'No, no' he hears it scream
is it the heart, or is it a dream

Dignity and esteem thus low they lie
how much more before they die
Roses wither for carnations deep,
carnations, carnations, those he'll keep.

But torn away from his grip
carnations removed heap by heap
and with it, a void of anticipation;
an anticipation of a beeping sound
an anticipation- never found.

and here he falls, t his knees-
this time not for a heart t please
but rather a realisation,
a surge of indignation.

Still filled with love
of love and sore
here's an actor that's played out his act;
like an informant that's served out his purpose- wanted no more.

Thrown, stepped and splattered,
all over this cold hard floor,
this life- August 14, 1984.

Who was i t think i was different;
Just a page boy- nothing more.

Why.

I dont want t post this.

I wish t stop blogging, as i already have- for more than a month now.

But other than God, this is the only place i can settle my emotions in- my thoughts, my feelings, my struggles- there's no one else t talk t. Or rather no one i can open my heart t. Perhaps, not even you.

There lies the irony- the publicity of a blog, and the secrecy of my thoughts.

And this is where i realise how solitudinous i am. People- they're all around me. Friends- they're great company, but the baring of heart and soul- Sorry, i cant do it. Even as of now as i hear the incessant sounds of the keyboard around me in this computer hub, the soft humming of the antiquated air condition- i feel all alone.

For what i've read and for what it's worth- I'm sorry. For now i know it's me you hate- subtle, faint, but that's what i'll take.

God help me. Help you hate me.

Revival.

Readers discretion: Of the outlets I've been presented, this is probably the best place t put it all. By it i mean my current reflections. Which is also why, this post might be uncomfortable t some, so if you're not Christian perhaps its best you click here.

My heart and my soul
I give You control
Consume me from the inside out
Lord, let justice and praise
become my embrace
t love You from the inside out

Was previously at a crossroad- that internal struggle between my personal ideas and God's will, something which i had so painstakingly accumulated over the years, only t hand it over t God, and trust that He knows what's the best for us- what's best, for me. All this while I've just been a Pseudo-Christian; merely by name, someone who goes t church, says grace, prays, but lives in contrary t God's will. This church camp has changed my life, in ways more than one. Of which I'm glad. Someone once very aptly put that fear is the inability of being in control- of situations, of people, of things- and i think that's essentially what fear is all about. Of not being in control. I used t think that it was impossible, for me t let someone else take over the reigns of my life. Why invite fear into your life? I want t be in control of my life, for it gives me self assurance, and the notion that i am the master of myself and i alone have the mandatory power t choose how i want my life t be led. But then i ask myself, Why do i want t control? What makes me think i have control? If we didn't create ourselves, who did? Our parents? And who created their parents? If i dont have control, who does, and should i fear that being? In my opinion, any kind of fear essentially boils down t my own pride and desire for autonomy- self government. The fact that I've come t realise that autonomy is a mere illusion frees me fully from all these fears... and that's because i believe He who has control over my life does not wish t hurt me, but heal me and protect me, even in the midst of difficult and trying times. (Hebrews 11:1 ) Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. And with that faith i can fully hand myself over t Him. And with that faith- however minute it may be- i can do everything.

A trip t the movies

Seeing people everyday;
watching- as they walk away.


Been on the new job for two days running now. Tiring- got back at half past 3 am last night- but nonetheless rewarding. Golden village's nothing like Thai Pan; more formal, more regulated. You feel -for me at least- more like a working individual rather than a "call and go" worker. The weekly sign-ins for movies and EoM complimentary passes make up for the meagre 4 an hour pay. I'm contented. ^_^ Sort of.

Black court shoes make the feet go sore.

For those who know my location, please do not come and visit/disturb/laugh at me, am pretty much in my own world right now- of people i don't quite know- and not ready for the intervention of familiar faces. Yet.

My movie-buff dream; thank god, for i'm halfway there.