The person who wrote YES
in margins disappeared
Someone else tempers her enthusiasms,
makes a small “v”on the side
for lines worth returning to.

A farmer stares deeply
at a winter field,
envisioning rich rows of corn.
In the mild tone of farmers,
says Well, good luck.

What happens to us?

He doesn’t dance
beside the road.

Naomi Shihab Nye

When I have to think of pretty things, the instant fix now is to look back a year.

The photos are so colorful as compared to what there are now, the entries I don’t even know where they come from, they have a tune to em.

But why is there an obvious detachment to all of that? Why do I read like I didn’t write it, and why does a smile form insipidly as I plough through the stash of memories, like I forgot, and then remembered. Why does our mind work in such strange ways when simple, really, is enough?

“Now’s not the time to point fingers but to see how all parties can salvage a broken relationship that started off with such promise” – Lee U-Wen, TODAY, May 25.

Social developmental model, at its best.

I was excited for the UNSW program. Dr P had a solid communications curriculum lined up I believed would have given SCI a good run for its money, present some feisty competition: wake our sleeping ahem out of his stupor.

But it’s back to the Big Four.

Someone tell me this is not a conspiracy.

Not born with the silver spoon, it takes a lot more to get to places. You join the fighter’s club, learn to put on the gloves on your own, and just punch and kick as you think would help keep you alive. You depend on Divine intervention and guidance, because you have nothing. You rely on love and support from family and truest of friends, because that matters.

But then you get to a place, and while some like Mr Hou used to say to me: the top is where you get to enjoy the freshest air, others like my sister constantly reminds that sometimes, it gets lonely on the top.

What matters.

knowledge is neutral.

Two days of being away from the office plus excessive amount of puking does wonders. I’ve come to terms (partially, for you can never be too certain?), with my pride- and greed-issues: Internalizing the idea of how we will never be able to have everything (materially and physically) has been much harder than simply knowing it. Still, I’m happier, knowing knowing, that now I can live with the idea of winnin some, losin some. Losing graciously, with the reminder that our God is a fair God, despite the unjust world; He giveth, He taketh away, and in this very life of mine, He has already accorded so much, I just need to remember.

I’ve also come to terms with my laziness-issues: spouts of over-enthusiasm versus episodes of putrefaction in front of the telé not wanting to do anything. In gloomiest days I am disgusted at how crazily I had taken on to tasks and commitments not differentiating between obligations and passion; that disgust is, in retrospect, clearly an outcome of laziness. Very similar to the occasions when I come home and am not very tired (weekends included) and look around the house wishing I could do more, clean up more, embark on some projects with pops, sit and talk with ma more (speaking of which, the sisters are not done memorizing Kayne West’s Hey Ma for our mother’s day special this Sunday!). But things are so different when I am tired. I only know how to deal with me, selfishness overrules, and I dream of running away to my own little crib with mismatched wallpaper, oversized Venetian mirrors and a standalone bathtub, I ought to be ashamed.

Conclusion: I need to try harder, not because I want to be Oprah-productive, but just cause God must have placed all these things, and all these people in this course, for a mighty reason. So that they may bless me as I attempt to be a blessing to them (or the other way round? i don't know, we try.)

Simon is a cameraman. He'll be with the crew of Amazing Race Asia 2. He's been and lived in many cities, but is Aussie by birth. We had a good chat over salmon + apple crumble.

D. doesn't like fish. She thinks it's too strong for her. She's been to Dubai more times than anyone could desire. She drinks her tea with milk.

Will wrties for an extreme sports magazine. Normally, it's 4pm and office setting for him, midnight and pjs for me He starts his conversations by saying, Becky from Hollywood, and I, Hi Will from Hollywood. But we're not.

V. has a funky surname cause she's married to a Macedonian. You can tell she's very smart but she doesn't flaunt it. She can be dressy and showy but she chooses to be simplistic fine. It was quite funny when she spoke about uncle selling chestnuts and ching chong dances taking place on Orchard Turn.

J. I've known for quite some time. We ran together on one occassion. I think I've not seen J in 3 years. But in 2 weeks i've bumped into him twice and twice, I knew it was him and he knew it was me. I waited for an acknowledgement both times but he didn't seem to want to give one. The next time I see him, I'm gonna shout his name real loud. He better say hi.


The faces we meet. There's just too many to let slip by.

Band of Horses: The End’s Not Near mmm Silversun Pickups: All the Go in Betweens the magic of layers Modest Mouse: Dashboard for we were dead before the ship even sank Regina Spektor: Hotel Room & Samson the sad masked in happy Copeland: Sleep just before the coffee and now coming to sg, perfect Damien Rice: Grey Room & Accidental Babies makes the marred stubbornly beautiful Youth Group: Forever Young is the song we should play at our convocation and cry Imogen Heap: Speeding Cars more on Yamagata: Sunday Afternoon live at the loft Artic Monkeys: When the Sun goes down we Bloc Party: So here we are with the Kaiser Chiefs: love’s not a competition but I’m winning Bright Eyes: Oh you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place long titles such a hit Dirty on Purpose: Light Pollution two words The Kooks:Naive & Crazy crazy cover you'll love it The Decemberists: Summersong and I’ve been here all along.