a click of the gears and a whirring of cogs and here we are again, twelve months and a lifetime later, full circle etcetera, still alive and functioning if not exactly kicking. that morning in march when i replayed all the christmas songs (it came upon a midnight clear / that glorious song of old / from angels bending near the earth / to touch their harps of gold) in a foolish attempt to live vicariously - because while 2012 was a monster of a year, i couldn’t bear to crawl out of it and into 2013 which was chewing me up with an even more hideous viciousness - still strikes with a clarity that makes it seem but so achingly brief a while ago.
oh pie and hot tomatoes, december. the seasons like to whisper their syncopated goodbyes. i’m a fan of whispers. too trembly. too reminiscent of those terrible, terrible movies. but i’ll take that any day over a loud display of emotions, cause that’s just me. and though i adore winter and whiteness, i really don’t want twenny thirteen to end. this is the beginning of the end, which is itself simultaneously the ending and the beginning of so much more, the upheaval of Earth and futures and realities and happiness and sorrow and excitement and terror. global warming and revelatory claims aside, doesn’t anybody else wonder if the world might end tomorrow?
found the antidote to my past few days of grousing (thank you for bearing with it… assuming you did): thanksgiving, service, good writing, good music, good food and good company (or lack thereof). it’s probably more like a panacea- apply generously to all situations and voila. [edit: yes, definitely good company #tyJ and #tyf hehehe; also, good movie. :’)]
get your head back in the game? mmmm… give me til the end of the year, please.
found this on my phone, dated sept 12:
had the strangest dream in a while last night. no surprise, of course. i always have dreams, they’re always strange. this one slipped away like quicksilver - stretched out my hands into the dusky, curtain-censored room and they were gone. say your farewells. maybe you can wish upon dreams. then people would start taking hallucinatory pills. and sleeping could be an industry. they would compare dreams - had a hundred and five dollar dream last night. cut yourself a slice of the lucrative pie.
we would stand at the side and laugh, slowly and sadly. maybe pray. probably pray.
the world might end tomorrow. prayer is probably always a good idea.
shall make a proper post to archive the scribblings (what do you call non-written scribbles? typings? scratchings? ramblings, perhaps), on my wordpress - which i have dutifully neglected since some time in october. ha ha ha.
today, for the first time in months, i think i finally remembered what it felt like to yearn, to long for You. to want to live like my heart is on fire. to thirst for Your word and to trust in it (and not earthly things) for daily sustenance. to see Your face in another’s. to have my heart broken for what breaks Yours.
"we are absolutely nothing. we have nothing to be proud about. we have no abilities and nothing to offer God. the fact that he chooses to use us is only due to his grace. it has nothing to do with us. if God should choose to raise up others for his purpose and never use us again we would have nothing to complain about." my slice of humble pie i’ll eat through and through. it’s been positively ages ): too long, my Lord. too long. someone please remind me of this every day.
in response to my overcooked reaction, he called me petty; it struck a nerve that no one had touched in a very long time. my defenses let out a war-cry and threatened to stick their spears into his face (and would have if it hadn’t been over the phone, which so fortunately gives one more time to slap a smiley face and an exclamation mark on). i suppose i felt hurt. that he compared us. when i thought i was doing my best already, to put aside whatever annoyance and desire to wield sarcasm like a sword & a shield i had to keep the peace. what a laugh. for obvious reasons, that didn’t work out so well did it. please i don’t care anymore i just want this to be over please please please. i don’t want to prove myself the stronger. what’s the point ):
but i think, all antagonism out of the equation, now i understand what he meant. i don’t want to be petty and caught up in all these things when there’s a world out there to serve. mean-spirited and selfish and so thoroughly unloving. there are so many things i don’t wanna be, like human, it’s dissatisfying. i don’t wanna be so full of these holey flaws, i wanna have mature loving unimpulsive Christian opinions that aren’t fake, i wanna have all the correct answers with all those biblical phrases ready to be spouted, i wanna have the benefit of hindsight and perspective and i want to mean mean mean everything i do and say. i want to stop making judgement calls when i’m simply not fit! and now You take all of that and turn it upside down, show me that every good thing comes from You. what does it mean to boast in my weaknesses. i’m only just starting to learn to admit need, please go slow. ):
dear everybody who i’ve offended or been less than christian to (namely: everybody), please hear my sincerest apologies out. it’s no easy job to be simultaneously too full of heart and completely heartless but still, that’s no excuse for not serving my duties. repent, i will. sleep more, i’ll try. a humble and contrite heart You do not turn away.
today was the first good day in a while after all :) why is it that happiness seems to come from all the unexpected moments… #tyJ.
last self-indulgent thoughts i will put in words on this issue: i cannot tell why and i cannot say how but i am called to be the bigger person so i will shut up and stop being so selfish. life is waiting to be lived and i cannot spend it forever considering the best course of response to actions that have been calculated to garner the most drama out of… whatever it is. do i wish the passive aggressiveness would stop? well, duh, as with everything else. but it will work out; not as though i have to continue the pretense after a while more anyway. and for what it’s worth - hell can be sure of this - i refuse to let this cast a shadow over my two weeks.
tough. i will learn to be as tough as i need to be. why won’t people just learn that nothing good ever comes out of not listening to both sides of the story ):
life is challenging and so much larger than myself. must learn to be less intensely childish / (insert random negative adjective). does no good for anyone, self included.
also i understand - i get tired of me too! :> see? common enemy. don’t talk to me if you don’t wish to, i never asked you to. in the end there are only so many favours men can do each other.
shh selfishness go away when i wake up will you go away ok tmr is gonna be good tmr is gonna be good woohoo ^^
what was it about today. like my fridge- chock full of good stuff, yet the stale nauseating smell (of durians/ metaphorical durians in question) pervaded the whole atmosphere.
he asked for honesty so i gave it to him: i am pissed but with none other than myself. why the firetruck does my selfishness know no bounds and how can i stop. of my impatience i make no facade. perhaps i am really just a frigid being utterly devoid of compassion. or an obnoxious kid still mired in her own world of roll-your-eyes and i-don’t-cares. i don’t care but that holds no currency when there are things a decent christian ought to care about right? i mean i’m cheesed off but You know that and i’m tired but You know that and i’m tired of feeling tired but You know even that too. and i am so done with incoherence and should-s and why am i not the person You made me to be and du-u-uh i know the answer but still—
there is a fine line between things that cannot be created and things that are too tiring to create on end, second after second day after day- i may consider more things to be the latter than the former than others, but i think this need is transiting rather rapidly (and obviously / visibly) from latter to former and that downright terrifies me. because i’m still learning to admit weakness and can’t a kid get some time to learn her lessons the hard way.
aren’t you tired of being so selfish all the time, kiddo? of course i am. but maybe selfishness defines me and i’m tired of myself. then the whole thing makes sense. but i don’t want to be tired of myself! i’m just tired of fallenness and brokenness and darkness and humanity/mortality. what is wrong with me that i can’t just surrender to redemption and grace.
i don’t want to play your acting game though i could beat you handsdownblindfoldedupsidedown because i’ve perfected the art and i do not ask for attention anymore, at least not the same way you do. i quit. i’m out. i’ve been there done that and it’s no fun at all.
being melodramatic and emotional as usual now that hormones have decided to make their monthly reign a dictatorial one. but when stark lucidity takes over and one sees realities and truths spill everywhere, what does one (read: self) do but overreact to them like the whiny kid one is. have i ever mentioned that i dislike being female so much every month. too damn sensitive for all the wrong reasons. i do not want to make it about myself, i don’t want to make anything about myself.
tough lessons for a long, long day at the end of a long, long week. oh take me now G ):
2am and i should be sleeping.
what is it about the night that makes it so tempting to launch oneself into space? orbit about the planets and take a tour of nebula forever. how daring of us to presume the universe has been made for us- and yet, when i behold it in all its majesty, when you take that idea and shake it hard, turn it upside down and peer into, when you grasp it, how could it be any other way, and even then even still what awesomeness, what grace. G of wonders beyond our galaxy.
the stars shall forever be an abode of intrigue to me (:
i actually enjoyed the interview (“interview”) thoroughly, much more than i expected to; probably because it was so different from what i’d imagined it would be. i liked the plurality of viewpoints, mostly well substantiated and certainly with their emotive bastions of conviction. at the end of it she smiled and said, we’d love to have all of you. you have strong ideals, good ideals; keep them. and looked me in the eye.
my idealism is too curious to stay hidden forever, but i suppose it’s a taste one learns to acquire. it is too, what shall i call it, tiring? sad? for me to clothe myself in pragmatism all the time. feet on the ground but you stretch towards the heavens in the end.
i am so tired; but it’s not a bad thing at all (:
don’t lie and say you’re over me / don’t mean nothing / i’m always getting over you
if there is anything i have learnt from this period, it’s that i can’t not write. it’s not that i write to live or live to write, nor that my writing is particularly good, nor even that everybody has their art and i adopt writing as mine. it’s just- something that. i. do. you take life and you put it in tangibility. words are palpable, practically, like experiences. yes, words are sensations- you can taste them, feel their burn, smell their scent, dance in their rain, close your eyes and fall into a bottomless multiplicity of universes.
i don’t like my writing; the room for progress is so vast it feels like i’ve found a corner of some unassuming cloud and i’m just grabbing feverishly at the silvered threads and trying to figure out why the heck they’re not actually as solid as they look while i stave off falling to an icy death for a few more seconds, while the whole sky is out there waiting to be explored. thoroughly. yearning for something to fill its hollowness up. but i write anyway. why do i write. because i am a monster and i have demons to exorcise. because i have a memory that leaks and a mouth that presses firm- refuses to speak when i have no proper words left, which people do not enjoy witnessing- and an opposable thumb. because if you ever want to incise yourself, words are sharper, more efficient, cleaner than razorblades. because in the daytime you paint with light, take the golden of crepuscularity and the pastel of blue and blanket whichever space you want; but at night, the darkness is reserved for ink, ink kept untainted by light pollution. isn’t it telling that they make light out to be the impurity, not the darkness? (what do you really want? what do i really want?) because i don’t know what i want.
this is turning out to be a regularly depressing post, you’d think after As i’d be able to sound happier. let me try again.
i think freedom looked a little like today. there was a voice that said students, you are dismissed and a sudden burst of- i don’t quite know. energy? emotion? electricity? and then standing up and pushing back the chair and walking away from the sports hall trying to maintain some last shred of unfounded dignity by pulling my back straight and my chin up and walking walking so fast past the group of girls from the class next to mine past the ecogarden and pond of fishes swimming obliviously past the under-construction 7-11 past the wide wide wide corridor to the 410 bus stop on the left past the sac past the list of the top 5% in academics past the amphi and now pick up pace pick up speed jog a little now run run running across the road past the people mugging past the pillars pillars of plaster and you know how the world closes in a little when you want to cry? how you open your mouth to speak and the words start coming then halfway through you feel the ball of cramped tension emotion that you have to spit out rising but you cannot no don’t let it stop it stop stop can you feel the waver forcing itself up oh no is that a sob do not do not let it out you aren’t supposed to be crying why are you crying you are not crying why is there this strange miasma swimming are those tears no they can’t be i won’t let them be?
yeah, it wasn’t like that, it was like- like a tear-less cry. like the sob was in my body instead of my throat. freedom felt a lot like non-freedom, just with more audacity in motion. still it came and took me and i let it have me. how can one moment in time change somebody’s world so much, everywhere, every second, and we not feel it? it felt wrong that our collective liberation was not as ground-shaking or life-changing as we made it out to be for the past few months. imagine: somewhere in the world right now someone is dying and you cannot even conceive of it, not their face or their death or their salvation. we idealise the end and call it hope so we can survive on these scraps of oxygenated air even when we know it might just turn out to be (as usual) an overhyped lie. but, and here’s the key, if you place your hope in the right thing it will not disappoint. hope is a sweet sweet song if you get the lyrics right.
i think i know i have not hoped for the right things- nevertheless, i am grateful and happy that, at least, this storm is over (: i will learn the right words and i will learn to sing again.
today was a day of a lot of lasts, for sure. last time passing through the road behind raja at the damn unholy hour of 6am watching the colourful-turban cleaner have breakfast (a simple thermos of coffee and a piece of bread) at windy benches, last time sitting at a raja bench watching the sun spread its smile so lazily so sleepily from behind the columbarium while the visible world on the other side remained in midnight blue slumber, last time taking a nationwide examination. but with each last comes a first. firsts will come and they will keep coming. Your mercies are new every morning (:
(the length of this post can probably be attributed to too many words left buried somewhere in my mind’s landscape. writing needs a nuclei to condense onto; sentences half formed will die unremembered if you conceive but not birth them. is it right not to let them come out when they will? but ok this must stop here.)
for now- the next eight months. the next eight months, and a whole lot of words to be written and shows to be watched and life to be lived. thank You :’)
how do you say goodbye / to everything you know / how do you leave behind / what holds on to you
ぼくたちが目指した世界 / どんな過去も抱えたまま / きっと辿り着く
踏み出した険しい道も / 僕らなら大丈夫まだ / 強くなれるから
world wars waiting to be fought next week and i feel on the verge of losing all three terribly. (why else would i be on tumblr at 10.49pm typing this stupiakz post out) concern is the domain of those who still believe and i’m not too sure i can include myself in that category anymore. so- do i feel much? nope.
candlelight for the ill and candlelight for the moth. and candlelight for the funeral. i cannot wait for this damn season to be over. it’s like you put life on the backburner for three months and come back expecting some of the world’s finest stew and then you find instead a burning building. because life runs amok. because you see, life doesn’t wait and you shouldn’t be living like the walking dead waiting for exams to end so resurrection can begin.
oh, everything’s gonna be fine. don’t be so worried you silly child. how many times does it take for you to learn.
what do you do with the leftover you / unbreak broken, it won’t happen / where does the good go
(can’t fight the moonlight)
p.s. if i don’t even want to trust G then why would you expect me to trust you
It makes sense that you’re afraid of the future. You’ve never been there. Anything could happen. If you’re even a little bit like me, all the worst possible outcomes live there. You might run into anything on that road and you would never see it coming. All the freakiest and most horrible things that could be might be and probably will be, right? If only you could see forward. If only you could get a glimpse of yourself way off in the future having made it safely across this struggle or problem. If only you could know that everything would be alright in the end, you wouldn’t have to be afraid.
If you knew you were going to make it, you probably wouldn’t even mind the difficulties as much, right? I mean, if you could go into the future for just a moment and know that you make it out alive - and not just alive, but whole and fulfilled - if you could know that for sure, then you could face these pains and questions and setbacks with all the bravery in the world, because you would know without a doubt that they are only temporary. It’s not a matter of cowardice - you’re not a coward, you just want to know. You’ll face anything - if only you could know.
Thing is… you do know. You know it’s going to be alright. You know you’re going to make it through. You already know that in the end, every one of your struggles and problems and hurts are going to evaporate into a distant memory underneath the overwhelming reality of eternal life. You know that you’re going to be more than alive, but filled and glad and loved forever. You know that these present problems are only shadows that are passing. You know you’re going to outlive the darkness. You know you’re going to wake up after the world ends to live forever with the One who made and named the stars. You know because you know Him. Jesus has made promises to you and even though you’ve never been to the future, He has. He knows. He is what’s coming for you. Don’t be afraid.
perfect love casts out all fear.
talked a bit more about unis tonight… i don’t dare to hope and i don’t dare to dream but i want to. and i know all this fear is only a product of my lack of faith.
a mustard seed, Lord, start something small. i will take it and love it and let it blossom.
yknow, those days with the too-long lectures, too-boring exams, too-sleepy breaks, too much false laughter and just pretense in general- on both sides.
in all honesty, i never want the end of october to come. i could make a home out of all this incertitude, burrow into the ambiguity and join air pockets; an inheritance of incompletion, of nebulosity. the adjoining tunnel between unformed dreams and blossoming hope, interlude between conception and execution. i want to stay here, time would you hand me a map instead of an onward ticket.
that moment i bowed my head on bent knee, opened laudate before the monstrance, i knew what it really was for that You’d called me there. i’ve forgotten to pursue it other than paying lip service, haven’t i—
from the desire of being preferred to others / from the fear of being suspected, deliver me, J… that others may be chosen and i set aside, others be praised and i unnoticed, that others may be preferred to me in everything, grant me the grace to desire it.
i understand now why i find it so high maintenance… not cos she’s narcissistic but cos i have too much pride. not her issue but mine. not her fault but mine. to put others’ needs before mine always, always. if i can see her darkness more clearly, then shouldn’t the greater obligation to love it fall on me? silly winnie.
p.s. no, this is not about you, not unless strangely unintended people have obtained the url to this tumblr haha
we’re tossing pennies in the well / empty pockets all turned out
Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
today was one of those days that were bettered despite all emotions to the contrary, because time restored my hp (hindsight + perspective) bar heh thank You (:
thank you for coming despite the morning fever, reminding me of why i’m even applying for teaching internship, coming to my rescue hahhah, and for being such a wonderful person and and and chocolatey things. so blessed to have gotten to know you better <3
to love, in spite of… hard lesson. in spite of all that i am and all that you are, in spite of all that i think, in spite of all these insecurities and brokenness, this unwillingness, and — i wish so badly You’d just break through, Yknow? force Your way through my stubbornness, petulance, indecision, caprice— make me do the right thing. except You wouldn’t cos You’re a gentleman and won’t enter until i open the door.
so. open the door, winnie. open it. i will… but go slow, Your love goes slow. faith is a steady, humble lamplight. (:
I am inside someone
who hates me.
(an agony. as now. — amiri baraka)
// Let me at Thy throne of mercy
Find a sweet relief;
Kneeling there in deep contrition,
Help my unbelief.
note the plural
i’m not very good at the optimism business, esp not today, but tmr will be better, that much is fosho. and i quite like GoT, imaginary guardians of culture induct me into the fandom pls.
idk what You want of me so You fight for me k? i mean. srsly. w h a t e v e r. i hate all these carnalities and i hate it when people try to involve me in them. and give me a good day alone so i can weather this storm very nicely without snapping and being bitchy. please. cos i think up to this point i’ve alr handled it better than i usually would have.
): this is the day the Lord has made, i will rejoice and be glad in it…
Savior, You have known me as I am
Healer, You have known me as I was
As I will be in the morning, in the evening
You have known me, yeah, You know me
From the fall of my heart to the resurrection of my soul
You know me, God, and You know my ways
In my rising and my sitting down
You see me as I am, oh, see me as I am
In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the brother who always obeys his father is furious at seeing the rebel son received with celebrations and joy. In the same way, many people who are obedient to the Lord’s word, end up becoming the merciless hangmen of all those who one day strayed from the Law.
In a small village in the interior, a well-known sinner was barred from entering the church.
He was angry and prayed: “Jesus, hear me. They will not let me into your house, for they think I am not worthy.”
“Do not worry, my son,” answered Jesus. “I too am on the outside, together with those I have always stood alongside – sinners like yourself.”
you might be my difficult person but that’s cos i see myself in you. so.
whatever You call me to, i will follow, no turning back. because - and this sometimes annoys me hahaha - You’ve never proved wrong. You did promise, so i’m going on a blogging fast ‘til i get my sign. no reading no writing just prayer.
crunch time, no time like the present #leggo #iceland #lifeiswaiting #beingultraobnoxious #cosican #seeyou #inaday #oraweek #definitelybynov1 #ilovemath #ilovehist #ilovegeog #iloveecons #ilovegp(ireallydo)