Sometimes I wonder...
Is it my fault?
When people cry, or rail at the heavens
Is it somehow my fault?
For not helping when I could,
For not trying harder-
For not simply being there...
And when they shout and cry
and scream anger at the shadows
I wonder-
Who are they yelling at?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just a sinner, nothing more
Monday, June 9, 2008
Thursday, June 5, 2008
In_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tis the matchstick, the first flame
The Light that God let be;
The catalyst, source-point
Singularity.
The still-sketch, wax-sculptures
Little things we see;
Great speeches, great figures
The Cross on which lay He.
The Symbols, sweet Music
Dreams and not-quite-dreams;
All this
and more--
That turn the locks of life;
Our key.
The Light that God let be;
The catalyst, source-point
Singularity.
The still-sketch, wax-sculptures
Little things we see;
Great speeches, great figures
The Cross on which lay He.
The Symbols, sweet Music
Dreams and not-quite-dreams;
All this
and more--
That turn the locks of life;
Our key.
Empty Space
Just wondering: What do people think of my blog?
A warehouse of emo poetry? A webpage of stories and thoughts?
Or just a collection of angst by some 16-year-old teenager with mental insecurities?
What is the point of this blog anyway?
Do people even read this blog?
Perhaps this is all my blog is.
A warehouse of emo poetry? A webpage of stories and thoughts?
Or just a collection of angst by some 16-year-old teenager with mental insecurities?
What is the point of this blog anyway?
Do people even read this blog?
Perhaps this is all my blog is.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Camp
LDC was for me, a stressful experience. For the first time in my life I found out the kinds of pressure leaders undergo. The stress and constant need to watch out for not only yourself, but everyone as well. I learnt that in LDC.
Funny how the Leadership Development Camp for the Year 2s turned out to be one for me as well.
Guess it was 3 years late.
I never really felt comfortable in the front. The Year 2s stand around, staring at me during the hike, going "Primer, where to now?"
The sheer feeling of helplessness when I(We) got lost. The worry and anxiety when Year 2s and Year 5s started falling sick. When people went missing, only to show up later (having been involved in 'other business')...the feelings are hard to describe.
Perhaps there is more to being a shepherd than just standing in the front. Or perhaps I am getting this all wrong.
I am not a leader.
Yet somehow, somewhere, I find myself in BB Steering Committee, the "leading" body of the Boy's Brigade. Granted, I am but a mere secretary, yet it would seem I am still considered "Steering".
By the grace of the Officers, God, and the rest of my Peers, I made it through LDC without dying from stress. (Thanks to one Officer in particular, your words really helped me through). Life really is about people. The relationships, the bonds, and as a certain person likes putting it, all about politics. People Politics.
I have Dreams for myself. Dreams I would like see through. I suppose everyone has them as well.
Somewhere, somehow, there must be a balance. Between the dreams we wish to have, and the dreams others wish to obtain. The middle ground, where we walk the same path, diverting sometimes, getting lost sometimes, yet still work together towards the same destination, although our goals may be different.
Responsibility and Ability.
Duty and Dreams.
Each and every person, living with what they have, seeking the life they want; always chasing, always looking, walking the thin line between selfishness and matrydom, the tightrope of society.
Perhaps thats what life's all about.
Funny how the Leadership Development Camp for the Year 2s turned out to be one for me as well.
Guess it was 3 years late.
I never really felt comfortable in the front. The Year 2s stand around, staring at me during the hike, going "Primer, where to now?"
The sheer feeling of helplessness when I(We) got lost. The worry and anxiety when Year 2s and Year 5s started falling sick. When people went missing, only to show up later (having been involved in 'other business')...the feelings are hard to describe.
Perhaps there is more to being a shepherd than just standing in the front. Or perhaps I am getting this all wrong.
I am not a leader.
Yet somehow, somewhere, I find myself in BB Steering Committee, the "leading" body of the Boy's Brigade. Granted, I am but a mere secretary, yet it would seem I am still considered "Steering".
By the grace of the Officers, God, and the rest of my Peers, I made it through LDC without dying from stress. (Thanks to one Officer in particular, your words really helped me through). Life really is about people. The relationships, the bonds, and as a certain person likes putting it, all about politics. People Politics.
I have Dreams for myself. Dreams I would like see through. I suppose everyone has them as well.
Somewhere, somehow, there must be a balance. Between the dreams we wish to have, and the dreams others wish to obtain. The middle ground, where we walk the same path, diverting sometimes, getting lost sometimes, yet still work together towards the same destination, although our goals may be different.
Responsibility and Ability.
Duty and Dreams.
Each and every person, living with what they have, seeking the life they want; always chasing, always looking, walking the thin line between selfishness and matrydom, the tightrope of society.
Perhaps thats what life's all about.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Reflections from over the Sea
People are such strange things.
Gone on a trip to a remote island. Got heatstroke, vomitting, and shat my insides out. Nearly got typhoid too.
And at the end of the whole thing, what did we get?
Joy. Happiness
Friendship.
For some reason, that's what people do. Even as we sat in the hostel, groaning on the beds, as the people outside suffered twice as much and hurt four times more, we still found the energy to laugh, crack jokes, and make remarks about each other's waste dispole units (both of them)
Singapore really is a bubble, isn't it? A little, tiny bubble, of order and peace and education.
And in closed bubbles, there's always stress. That someday the bubble will pop.
When that happens, will we still have the strength to laugh?
I hope we do.
I really hope.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the trip, a few things came to my mind. Chief of this was somewhat of admiration. I think I know what I want to be when I grow up.
If only I had the nerve to chase it. Or the legs to run.
Strange how hard it is to accept what you want, when you know you can have it?
The doctor asked me what I wanted to be. I didn't dare to tell him. Why was I embarassed?
Perhaps I was scared of being shot down?
Still...
At least I'm quite sure now. There's one thing I know I love.
Worlds and people. Ideas and things. Crafting, creating and always dreaming, always thinking, no matter what kinds of s*** life throws at you.
Idealist? Perhaps.
But that's what writing's all about.
Gone on a trip to a remote island. Got heatstroke, vomitting, and shat my insides out. Nearly got typhoid too.
And at the end of the whole thing, what did we get?
Joy. Happiness
Friendship.
For some reason, that's what people do. Even as we sat in the hostel, groaning on the beds, as the people outside suffered twice as much and hurt four times more, we still found the energy to laugh, crack jokes, and make remarks about each other's waste dispole units (both of them)
Singapore really is a bubble, isn't it? A little, tiny bubble, of order and peace and education.
And in closed bubbles, there's always stress. That someday the bubble will pop.
When that happens, will we still have the strength to laugh?
I hope we do.
I really hope.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the trip, a few things came to my mind. Chief of this was somewhat of admiration. I think I know what I want to be when I grow up.
If only I had the nerve to chase it. Or the legs to run.
Strange how hard it is to accept what you want, when you know you can have it?
The doctor asked me what I wanted to be. I didn't dare to tell him. Why was I embarassed?
Perhaps I was scared of being shot down?
Still...
At least I'm quite sure now. There's one thing I know I love.
Worlds and people. Ideas and things. Crafting, creating and always dreaming, always thinking, no matter what kinds of s*** life throws at you.
Idealist? Perhaps.
But that's what writing's all about.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Clinic
Come in! Come in good sir! Take a seat; now what may be your problem?
Mm. Mhm. Ah. Loneliness with a touch of angst I see. No worries, no worries, its hardly dangerous. Just make sure to have a good dose of Humor, and some Idealistic Hope as well. For this I recommend reading a few comic books. Just take two pages a day, three times daily. Also, don't forget to give this presciption to the nurse outside; she'll be more then happy to supply you with a bottle of heroic quotes as well. Just be careful not to overdose...
......
Hmm...a tricky case, I do believe. Have your been reading right? Thinking well? What has your daily consumption of skeptism been like? Mmhm. Mm. Oh, I see, I see. Not enough cultural depth in your diet, I believe. Just watch your morning newspaper intake; more "Local" and "Life" articles and less "Sports".
You seem to have an excess of self-confidence as well. Have you been swallowing your pride recently? No? I know they taste bad, but its good for you. Here, I'll prescribe you a few doses of "pridebeforefall" articles. Two articles a day, prefably after meals. That way, they'll be easier to digest. Just be sure not to read more than the recommended intake. See you!
.......
And what have we here? Tsk. Tsk. Fantasy Overdose I see. Who does want to be this time? A superhero? Oh dear, a really large overdose. Too much idealism and dreams in his system I believe. Might be a little tricky purging the excess hope from his soul.
Didn't I give a presciption for this? What, No? Tsk, youngsters these days, what with their illegal Fantasy traffiking and day-dreaming. This is why we have presciptions and guidelines for reading! But don't worry madam, just let me give him a quick jab of Reality and he should be as right as ra-
Oh? He's afraid of needles you say? Fine then. In that case, just give him some critcal feedback. Make sure he consumes it all too. There are a few critic clinics outside that will give you some. Here's the prescription. Oh, make sure he eats them with a pinch of salt as well; There's a chance he might be allergic to disappointment.
.........
What? What do you mean our stocks of Creativity are low? Prepostrous I say. The factories should be more than capable of-
Not effective? It can't be uneffective! It's Creativity! There's no other drug stronger than tha-
Yes, yes I know the natural producers are extinct. We wiped them out ourselves! All we had to do with isolate the relevant genetic structure and the precious chemical could be havested without all that stupid hassle and chaos and-
Failed? I thought they worked! Weren't those experiments a success? The simulated creativity and pseudo-inspiration were proven to have an effec- No longer any use? All our drugs depend on that thing! I don't care, we need to find some other way to simulate Creativity; There's almost none of it left.
Mm. Mhm. Ah. Loneliness with a touch of angst I see. No worries, no worries, its hardly dangerous. Just make sure to have a good dose of Humor, and some Idealistic Hope as well. For this I recommend reading a few comic books. Just take two pages a day, three times daily. Also, don't forget to give this presciption to the nurse outside; she'll be more then happy to supply you with a bottle of heroic quotes as well. Just be careful not to overdose...
......
Hmm...a tricky case, I do believe. Have your been reading right? Thinking well? What has your daily consumption of skeptism been like? Mmhm. Mm. Oh, I see, I see. Not enough cultural depth in your diet, I believe. Just watch your morning newspaper intake; more "Local" and "Life" articles and less "Sports".
You seem to have an excess of self-confidence as well. Have you been swallowing your pride recently? No? I know they taste bad, but its good for you. Here, I'll prescribe you a few doses of "pridebeforefall" articles. Two articles a day, prefably after meals. That way, they'll be easier to digest. Just be sure not to read more than the recommended intake. See you!
.......
And what have we here? Tsk. Tsk. Fantasy Overdose I see. Who does want to be this time? A superhero? Oh dear, a really large overdose. Too much idealism and dreams in his system I believe. Might be a little tricky purging the excess hope from his soul.
Didn't I give a presciption for this? What, No? Tsk, youngsters these days, what with their illegal Fantasy traffiking and day-dreaming. This is why we have presciptions and guidelines for reading! But don't worry madam, just let me give him a quick jab of Reality and he should be as right as ra-
Oh? He's afraid of needles you say? Fine then. In that case, just give him some critcal feedback. Make sure he consumes it all too. There are a few critic clinics outside that will give you some. Here's the prescription. Oh, make sure he eats them with a pinch of salt as well; There's a chance he might be allergic to disappointment.
.........
What? What do you mean our stocks of Creativity are low? Prepostrous I say. The factories should be more than capable of-
Not effective? It can't be uneffective! It's Creativity! There's no other drug stronger than tha-
Yes, yes I know the natural producers are extinct. We wiped them out ourselves! All we had to do with isolate the relevant genetic structure and the precious chemical could be havested without all that stupid hassle and chaos and-
Failed? I thought they worked! Weren't those experiments a success? The simulated creativity and pseudo-inspiration were proven to have an effec- No longer any use? All our drugs depend on that thing! I don't care, we need to find some other way to simulate Creativity; There's almost none of it left.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Lanterns and Fireflies
...And so shine your light foward, and by doing so, we give permission for others to shine their light as well...
Wouldn't it be nice if humans were like Fireflies?
Each and every single firefly carries its own light. Whenever darkness falls and silence reigns, the lone firefly will shine its light, a tiny beacon in the darkness.
But no! The firefly is not alone. Whenever one firefly sparkles, the rest of its swarm shall shine as well. And so a single fly can start off another, and a billion lights can result from one.
Wouldn't it be nice if humans were like that?
I hope they are.
Because that means we won't need the candle at the back anymore.
When hiking, the hike leader is always the one with the lantern. A powerful, wide-beam lantern that pierces through the fog of night, blazing a path through for the others to see. By the leader's light the group shall steer, and by the leader's light so can others see.
Too bad not everyone brings their own torchlight.
Of course, that is not to say nobody brings a torch. There's always at least 1 man at the back. 1 man with a small candle.
Not very large, a candle. Compared to a lantern, a candle barely shines at all.
Yet just as the lantern points ahead, so does the candle point behind. And around as well. The lantern always shines in front, blazing the trail, marking the future. The candle simply illuminates whatever's around.
What if a Boy was lost? What if a man had vanished?
By whose light can he steer?
Will the lantern turn its light from the future to search for the man? Perhaps. Perhaps all lanterns should do that someday.
But until then there's always the candle. The light at the back.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Different people give different lights. The strong beam of the torch, the soft flame of a candle. The flashes of a camera, the glow of a lumiscent screen. Different lights, different people.
Different purposes too.
What's the use of a light that shines in the day?
Wouldn't it be nice if humans were like Fireflies?
Each and every single firefly carries its own light. Whenever darkness falls and silence reigns, the lone firefly will shine its light, a tiny beacon in the darkness.
But no! The firefly is not alone. Whenever one firefly sparkles, the rest of its swarm shall shine as well. And so a single fly can start off another, and a billion lights can result from one.
Wouldn't it be nice if humans were like that?
I hope they are.
Because that means we won't need the candle at the back anymore.
When hiking, the hike leader is always the one with the lantern. A powerful, wide-beam lantern that pierces through the fog of night, blazing a path through for the others to see. By the leader's light the group shall steer, and by the leader's light so can others see.
Too bad not everyone brings their own torchlight.
Of course, that is not to say nobody brings a torch. There's always at least 1 man at the back. 1 man with a small candle.
Not very large, a candle. Compared to a lantern, a candle barely shines at all.
Yet just as the lantern points ahead, so does the candle point behind. And around as well. The lantern always shines in front, blazing the trail, marking the future. The candle simply illuminates whatever's around.
What if a Boy was lost? What if a man had vanished?
By whose light can he steer?
Will the lantern turn its light from the future to search for the man? Perhaps. Perhaps all lanterns should do that someday.
But until then there's always the candle. The light at the back.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Different people give different lights. The strong beam of the torch, the soft flame of a candle. The flashes of a camera, the glow of a lumiscent screen. Different lights, different people.
Different purposes too.
What's the use of a light that shines in the day?