Small town girl

Dissatisfied, to be a small town girl with small town preoccupations. I too, want to go see the world. To see the world, in its glorious splendor, overwhelming freedom and a horizon of possibilities..

Bring me! 

Break.

I had once prayed, that God would break me, break me down completely, that I might yield to His will for me. Perhaps He had already started a long time ago, but I was resisting, resisting silently yet persistently that I might not feel the pain and sorrow.

I too, want to take a break from myself, my own fortress and high tower. Away from myself to a place of art, beauty, contemplation. 

Sweet

dear rae,
paris's amazing. i've been here for the past 4 days. the museums are splendid and well stock with monets, reniors, van goghs and the likes.
the food is delicious and snow's pretty.
wish you were here.

Thanks for remembering. So sweet of you :) 

Musky back office

Musky back office with deathly silence and cardboards strewn all over. Very unlike what I had expected of an exciting new endeavor. I have a feeling this is the last they'll see of me.

Genes

Genes are hard to fight, because they are God's specifications for each one of us. My long battle with my self image seems to have borne some fruit when I stepped out of my teenage era, but the proverbial bulges still bug me once in a while. And a meal is always to me, a composition of its fats, carbs, protein. Which is why I hardly ever finish up a 'bad' meal, unless my taste buds tell me its worth the calories. Each day, the duration of time that I spend on my butt is always measured against the intensity I spent in the gym, triggering periods of guilt and quiet self reprimand. Fruits are to me, a source of good fibre and antioxidants, or not. I eat them, because they're good for me. Such an uneasy way to live, but it has become a subconscious habit.

Scholarly stress

On my way to language exams.. I ask why I'm subjected to such scholarly stress once again, but last night I had a dream. In my dream I was explaining to 2 university students the importance of good essay writing, reminiscent of my PS Peers Writing Center days where i explained tirelessly the need for good topic sentences strategically placed in their appropriate paragraphs. And strangely I was comforted, reminded once again my love for words and good communication. And I thank God that even in mastering a new language, I see how the language ability given me was trans-culture and trans-language somehow. Writing an essay in English or Malay was the same enchanting process for me, to make myself understood loud and clear, using the most appropriate words my vocabulary would allow me. And I find much joy and satisfaction in doing so.

I ask myself how to harness this passion. The impatience inbuilt in my gung-ho personality arises again. But perhaps, this time I shall leave it to ferment and grow. God plants and He will grow it. A season, for every activity under the sun.