I don’t foresee myself blogging in the near future,but i don’t want to delete this blog for sentimental reasons (and just in case I come across something interesting that I want to share on cyberspace in future – it’s always good not to completely chop off bridges)

I remember one of the lecturers saying that essays must come to elegant conclusions, so this is my elegant final post on this website.

Thank you for reading my posts, it’s always heartwarming to know that there are people out there who bother to read what I’ve to type. Thank you for your comments, you’ve no idea how excited i am when wordpress sends me an email to inform me that one of you have left comments :)

I probably would not be updating this website henceforth. But who knows? I may just be bored and type something someday. Till then, goodbye. Stay healthy and happy!!

(C:  me

Dear Mr. Volvo,

It was really sad unpacking you today. You have served us faithfully for more than 10 years and it’s hard to see you go. You’ve always been there for me, from holidays in Malaysia to exams since primary school – i can always count on you to get me from one place to another in one piece.

That’s because you’re indeed a force to reckon with; a sight to behold. In all my life, i’ve only seen one other car that looked like you on Singapore roads. No other piece of metal is as solid and as “dignified” looking as you. Resembling a tank, you stop traffic – figuratively and literally.

I remember one of the motivations of getting my license was to be able to sit behind your wheel and go places with you. It is said that once we learn to drive you, we can drive any car. That’s because you’re heavier, longer and bigger, making you tougher to manage than your counterparts. Whilei can’t say that i’ve mastered you,i’ve gotten a hang of you. Hence, it’s with a very heavy heart (maybe even heavier than you) that i let you go.

I won’t forget how i refused to speak to someone for five days because she said that you were an old piece of junk. If i were a more violent person,  i would have fought (physically) for your honour. They don’t make cars like you anymore…you’re endangered like myself.
Some may think it’s dumb to write to you. But what do they know about cars like you - think herbie!!

You’d be missed.

Love,
me

Dear Neighbour(s),

Mummy says I should learn to be patient and try to ignore you, but i’m getting quite fed up. And because i don’t want to disobey, i shall rant about you(s) online. So let’s begin:

MAN, YOU FELLAS MAKE ME SUPER PISSED WITH YOUR KILLER LITTER TENDENCIES. Why can’t you all just get a dustbin, it’s not that expensive you know?! You don’t even have to get a proper bin for that matter, any plastic bag will do. Just stop throwing things out of your windows because THEY ALL LAND ON MY PARAPET.

Imagine waking up in the morning after a good nights rest, throwing open the windows wanting to breathe in some fresh air only to see wads of toilet paper on the parapet. Then your vivid imagination takes over and attempts to guess what’s inside the wad of paper. Besides that, i’ve found prune seeds, some smelly gooey brown mass that might be shit, orange seeds, orange peel, tooth picks and a whole lot of other stuff. I like surprises like snail mail, but not these kinda surprises if you get my drift.

It’s gross and really disgusting you know. Not to mention the bacteria festering in your trash outside MY window. I can visualise those air-borne microbes all rushing in the minute i open my window. Not a pleasant sight and thought.

But there’s nothing much i can do about it, because i can’t catch you red handed unless i station myself somewhere across and wait for you(s) to throw and most importantly, i’ve no idea who you are – if i do, you can be sure there’s no way i’d smile at you if you ever walk past me and i’d not hold the lift door open for you.

You(s) should learn how to be a socially responsible and gracious neighbour. If not, at least some obligation to be as i’m quite a nice neighbour. I mean, I put up with your chair dragging, handphone vibrating (oh yes, your floor my ceiling isn’t that thick, i wake up at 5am when your alarm goes off!)….stuff like that.

So neighbour, please be more considerate. Don’t kill my joy of living at springview with your killer litter. I’d keep you company if you plan to go buy a bin. I would even stay long enough to choose the colour of the bin with you if you like (mine’s white!).

Thank you!

Yours Faithfully,
Neighbour :)

Since the last post, I’ve been pondering over the age old problem of defining love. And I got my answer today in the form of a choral offering by the Hokkien choir during Bukit Panjang Methodist Church’s (BPMC) 72th anniversary today :)

The Hokkien service is made up of mainly elderly as they are one of the few groups of people left who are fluent (and i mean fluent) in the dialect. The entire service is conducted in Hokkien, from the songs to the sermon to the prayers. But i digress.

Anyway! As old age catches up with you, you aren’t that stable on your feet any longer. People familiar with BPMC’s recital hall know that it isn’t very elderly friendly. From the steep steps up the stage to the slippery parquet floor, the elderly had to battle those including the speakers and wires among all the other audio equipment laid out on the stage. In fact, some had to be supported up the stairs and led along the stage for fear of any misadventure.

But they braved their way up the stage and sang their hearts out on stage for the Lord. They were beaming with joy and grinning at the congregation as they presented the choral offering.

You know folks, that’s what love is.

It’s about going the extra mile and enjoying every minute of it because of the love you have for someone. The Hokkien choir could just have chosen to sit out today’s service because it was held in the recital hall instead of the usual sanctuary, or decided to sleep in because it was much earlier than their Hokkien service. But they came. And they not only were present, they had prepared a song to sing!

Love compels you to go the extra distance and make sacrifices. But not because you have to or are obligated. But because you want to and because you LOVE.

Happy 72th Birthday BPMC!! :)

I was awakened to an argument downstairs the other night…although it was largely muffled raised aggitated voices, i heard a distinct ‘But I love you!’.

It was stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as if the fact that one fella loving the other is sufficient to solve whatever they were arguing about. Or is it?? Rudely awakened at 4am, this is what my brain came up with and i’d like to share them with you! :)

What is love? We all have this common notion of some warm fuzzy feeling, but is that accurate? I mean, if it’s as perfect as it is set out to be, why were those fellas arguing at such a god-forsaken time in the morning? Shouldn’t they be sleeping, basking in the happiness of their LOVE? If not, then why do they say that all humans have this secret desire to be loved?

What is love?

Love songs on Class 95 offers some thoughts (you know those advertisements which aren’t exactly advertisements, whereby we have people sharing what they think love is?). These are some that i remember, not quoting verbatim.
1) “Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired” — in all honesty, this sounds very ego-centric. Is love really all about the self? If that statement is accurate, then we should just all get pets (stay away from cats though)

2) “You know you love a person when you have seen the person the whole day and can’t wait to see the person the next” — then what happens when the novelty is over?? you end up shouting at each other at 4am and cause others to awaken from their slumber?

3) “Loving a person means giving her your all. But if she loved you, you wouldn’t ask anything from you” — All as in life is it? I’ve heard that you know it’s love if you’re willing to die for the person. But you won’t know till you’re in a life- threatening situation yes? Wouldn’t it be too late by then?

Before my brain decided that 4am is too early (goodness, the sun isn’t even up yet!) to entertain such questions, I remembered 1 John 3:16.

¹⁶This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers

So perhaps one cannot define love, but i’m sure we know what love is when we see it.

photo courtesy of: http://stevelutz.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/argue-seuss.jpg

Excerpt from: Like the Flowing River (Paulo Coelho)

A man asked my friend Jamie Cohen: ‘What is the human being’s funniest characteristic?’

Cohen said: ‘Our contradictoriness. We are in such a hurry to grow up, and then we long for our lost childhood. We make ourselves ill earning money, and then spend all our money on getting well again. We think so much anout the future that we neglect the present, and thus experience neither the present nor the future. We live as if we were never going to die, and die as if we had never lived.’

Whenever 21st May draws near, I would always remember my pri 5 chinese teacher telling us that birthdays are not worth celebrating unless we are very young or very old. Her reason being that it was a feat for both the very young and the very old to have survived the past year and the celebration was to commend their efforts in surviving (the young with their low immunity while the old have to battle with the ill effects of ageing). What happens in between doesn’t matter because each year is no different from the next.

She must have mentioned it sometime late april or early may I think because i remember telling myself that  I wouldn’t celebrate my 11th birthday.  I usually hold my chinese teachers in high regard (simply because they are masters of a language that i’m trying to master) which explains the huge impact that statement made. I told my parents that I didn’t want a birthday party that year and I didn’t want them to buy me any presents or a birthday cake either.

But as 21st May drew near, I figured that I must celebrate my 11th birthday as I’d be too busy preparing for my PSLE the following year. When I was 12, I told myself that I must celebrate my birthday as it marks my final year as a child.

By 13, that statement didn’t matter anymore because she was no longer a teacher (she retired) so her statement doesn’t count. On hindsight, this has no logic but it made a whole lot of sense when i was 13 :)

I’d be 22 tomorrow and while I still remember my chinese teacher’s statement, I continue to celebrate my birthday. In fact, nowadays, my birthday celebration can span weeks. Hahaha!
And as always, I’ve come up with my own logic and here it is:

Unlike what she said, I believe that each year brings change. Be it a change of environment, a change of friends or a change of perspectives. Just as a book has chapters, my life has birthdays. And hence, I MUST celebrate my birthday – because it’s a once in a lifetime event; I’d only turn 22 once. It’s not only to remind yourself that you’re older, it preps you for change. Moreover, May is somewhat in the middle of the year, so  it’s a good time to take stock as well.

hahaha!! I wonder what my chinese teacher would say to that. Then again, would i be able to articulate that in mandarin? :)
And for all i know, all of this won’t make sense next year. But it does now and that’s all that matters! Woooohooooo!!

Dear Self,

It’s been a week since the exams ended and while i’m always happy that the holidays are here, Sem 2 always leaves me with a bittersweet after taste. While the end of Sem 2 heralds the end of an academic year, it also means that some dear friends are graduating.

Of course we would leave with promises that we’ll keep in contact and stuff; but we all know deep down inside that it wouldn’t be the same. Given time, we’d lose contact and only text each other on birthdays (granted that both of you have good memories). Meeting up would be difficult as people move on with their lives and sooner or later, that same friend whom you could share even the most trival of things and your deepest darkest secrets would be a stranger. Sometimes, it’s almost as if you both lived on different planets!

I read a poem that sums it all up and I’d like to share it with you:

Disappeared (Boey Kim Cheng)

It happens that friends drop out of your life
each year a face, a voice, lost, quietly gone
into a far country, each finding a way to survive.

You wonder about the few, whether they are alive,
the ones who matter, the maimed, the forlorn.
It happens that the angels slip unnoticed out of your life.

You dig up the letters and cards to revive
the smile, the touch of a hand, the lone
moment together, finding a way that will survive

the distance. Then you count the years, five,
ten, the absences, the test the defunct number, the wrong
address, the silence of the ones who drop out of your life.

You replay the scenes of love and strife,
remember the shared books, the loved song,
the souvenirs of friendship that will survive

the vanishing. You know that memory can thrive
on loss, and give them the lives you long to share,
the news of the dear ones who have dropped our of your life.
Yet you wonder, wonder, whether any of these will survive

Sigh, that’s life isn’t it? :)
–me

Exams are over! And melisa loh is very pleased :)

Goodbye world! I’m going to leave cyberspace for a while. Till then! :)