its not mine t make- its yours t take.

To Ms Lily Evans:

I'll hide all the bruises,
I'll hide all the damage that's done.
But I show how I'm feeling
until all the feeling has gone.
And for you t know-
friends, we've become.

8 weeks, 53 days, 1272 hours, 76320 minutes left.
And counting.
Honestly require a final form of motivation; something which is able t last. Circumstances, they tell so much- i am but forced t admit, i lack a disciplined mind. I have been impeded by every possible thing i have so solemnly sworn against. Is it testament t my weakness? Or is this truly part of God's plan- the one where i fail? Little by little, things get me carried away, drifting me, anything but closer, t the futuristic vision i have of every night; that vehement realisation of finding myself opening my eyes t a morning of bustling, city life- of street lights, of duplexes, of snow and bells, of mist and unconditioned weather- where i find myself, away from home, in the city of newyork. Please, Teo Zhi Hao (of the many posts by far the first) 'get your act together'. Isn't that of staunch motivation itself? Yes, it has t be. No, it must be. This is for yourself, not your father, nor your mother, nor anyone in particular.
Yourself. Yourself.

I ask in Your name, give me strength and wisdom t do what's right, and for Marcus Tan t teach in our class again.

Amen.