reckless, careless, thoughtless.

we used the term "dematerialize" alot in art history class to mean moving up into the realm of the spiritual, but its alternative meaning can be lived it out as a degeneration into a state of carelessness, recklessness, thoughtlessness. Feeling responsible and good are no longer burdens, but dematerialized into irritants to a hot and bothered soul. going where the heart dictates and doing what the mind concocts. empty hours creep past and I look on in amazement that I am unfazed. past days blend into a meaningless blur and many faces merging into a moving picture. ceasing to think or to be in tune with higher purposes are such easy endeavours that they suck you in; time starts to trot and gallop. I've no desire to be responsible for anyone's life, and perhaps, not even my own.

and yes, i got my new ipod nanochromatic.

toeing the line

Just a little detox from technology and email can leave me disorientated and a tad disconnected. It's as if i overslept and awake to find that it's mid-spring and the first dew and first breathe of fresh air has been enjoyed by the world and I've since lost out on that utility. See, a modern woman attempts to return to her rustic roots but is still constrained to think in deep-set utilitarian fashion. why should it matter that i have half the spring left when there is summer to look forward to. rest days are good. I appreciate just drifting into and out of sleep and consciousness on a hot afternoon in the comfort of my abode. human rights and non-violence fill my thoughts these days and i feel fulfilled in learning more about a subject i so instinctively gravitate towards but never found the motivation to know it as more than a familiar silhouette. Now it's taking form and i'm excited of how knowing it better will push me upwards, towards a higher calling as a crusader. in which area and for what issue i don't know. but i know i have to be a voice amidst the chaos.

Other issues dominated my thoughts as well. it was a little shocking to find that my suspicions of my presence evoking averted gazes and stumbling words was true. I was a little afraid that someone else would notice it, but I guess everyone was too frantically taking notes which i should be thankful for. once again, the tempest rages and i am shocked to find myself toeing the line between staying within friendly grounds and venturing into the wild. There is such a wild African lion residing in me that i'm afraid of one day releasing it that it'll be completely untame-able. roars.

Homer, Aristotle, Alexander

Rembrandt,
Aristotle Contemplating the Bust of Homer
Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY

portraying an inner meaning

The idea of rhetoric is that an orator speaks in public to an audience, but with Rembrandt one does not sense that the painting is a highly public statement. When John Stuart Mill wrote in the early 19th century that "eloquence is to be heard, poetry is to be overheard", he might almost have had Rembrandt's paintings in mind. We seem to happen upon an event and eavesdrop a little, observing something private and confidential. The painting has long carried a title that identifies the bearded man in floppy hat with gold chain slung from shoulder to hip, as the Greek philosopher Artistotle, who greatly admired the blind poet Homer. The face on the medallion hanging from his chain is Alexander the Great, Aristotle most famous pupil.

excerpted from Baroque & Rococo, Vernon Hyde Minor

I was first drawn to this painting because of the mystical dialogue between the eyes of Aristotle and the un-seeing Homer. Not to mention the fact that the painting was wrong in every sense of the word, with Aristotle in an ostentatious outfit and gaudy gold chain around him. Undoubtedly, Rembrandt was projecting himself in the image of Aristotle; if Aristotle was the philosopher-teacher who lost the favour of Alexander the Great, Rembrandt was the artist who was estranged from his patrons and contemporaries by the time he painted this.

I've a friend who believes all films are just a selfish production of directors, but i believe the beauty of art laid in the very roots of self absorption in a private world projected to a larger existence, be it films, paintings, writings, sculptures. Art has always been a private love affair of the artist and his creation, and great works of art merely love affairs made public.If you watch a romantic movie and swoon, you are but a voyeur in the literal sense, caught up in the romance that is of someone else's concotion, but it is art, because it appeals to universal emotions that cut across time, space and era. And this painting does precisely that, except that the time, space and era has been laid out literally, so in-your-face that anyone who knows Aristotle, Homer and Alexander will be amused.

rants.

the tension between having things her way and believing in my judgment that it shouldn't have to be that ONLY way characterized the conclusion of a double birthday celebration this evening. We didn't talk over it but I overheard complaining that she was the one ra-raing people and is always frustrated when things don't go according to her plan.

The story goes that I was supposed to lead Part B of a birthday surprise by sneaking into J's apartment to decorate it. Watching the hours go by and with no one being able to confirm whether they will indeed raid J's apartment, I made the decision to call the house party off, so that we might hold the destiny in our hands instead of the whims of the stars, and bring the party to where the birthday girl was.

Although my plan worked out more than fine, I was intensely frustrated by the fact that I was given a task to execute and not the flexibility to alter it for a better and more controllable outcome. Maybe cox both me and her have an overwhelming sense of responsibility to tasks we have to do and in that process inevitably have to step on each other's toes alot.

*

On this note, I noticed in a fair number of my friends a certain impervious-ness to comments, suggestions, last-minute flexibility. Set in their mode of thinking of how things to be done, they get easily frustrated when things don't go according to what they envision to be, if only temporally. Yet, they refuse to (or can't) see how what they conceive of as the "best laid plan" is really impractical and exists only in their ideal conception. Why can't they just see that suggestions are really opportunities for positive improvements? Why do they necessarily think that they are just inconvenient impediments to the execution of their grandiose plans? I am not saying I don't have my stubborn episodes. But to have that built-in as an auto-mechanism does test my patience. And like what Therie and I talked about today, patience is something i realise i have to learn as well. we all have our character flaws and as iron sharpens iron, so does one man sharpen another.

*

rants aside, today is a fine day.


I love to be giving my presentation on the Renaissance and Baroque, exchanging small talk with the other presenters, standing there on the podium and analyzing the figure of David. I love to satisfy my grandiose love of the arts, to bask in the feeling of being transported to Rome and Greece intellectually. I love to complete a quiz in fractions of minutes and translate what I learn into words and grades. I love to be handed a copy of essay questions as i mentally mark off the various deadlines that i might embark on my assignment early.

I love to be walking through the bazaar and to have someone hand me a free bound book of poetry. I love to be entering the Central Library with the gust of cold dry air greeting an overly zealous me with my too-elevated body temperature. I love to be talking a tad too loudly and a tad too animately as I gush to a friend like a bubbling brook. I love to be bumping into random people as i cruise down the corridors and weave through the mass of lunch crowd.I love to be sitting alone at a table at The Deck with the chattering as my background music as i sat there for an hour reading politics of non-violence.

i love to have time to hangout with various friends over the course of a day, starting with late lunch with Tzing, later lunch with Therie, hanging out with Tim, conspiring with the Nav gang. I treasure these spontaneous moments where i can take charge of my time and attention without the rigidites of worklife that will eventually consume me when I end my undergraduate life. I grew up wanting to be in my 20s and in university. I'm living out my dream. it feels surreal and happy each day to be in school doing what i'm doing.

the question is, what next? but perhaps there's too early a question.
i'd better start dreaming first.

whine.

hedonistic part of me wants a black 16Gb Ipod Nano.

i want more time and undivided attention with family. but it seems like all of us in our busy-ness (of all of us, me most afflicted) are caught in attention-deficit order. i can't hold a conversation with my sisters long enough without my thoughts floating to some readings i have to do for my next class. and the next presentation. and the next paper. terrible way to live i tell you. and it's not even workaholic season yet.

i wanna do more French!!

sigh.

fatiguee

there hasn't been a time when i've felt more purposeful about school, yet yearn more to sleep at home. what a dichotomy of desires raging in me. i seem to have no energy left for trivial pursuits like dramas and enrichment endeavours like French. Establishing alot of new friendships with the advent of year 4 but increasingly lacklustre in attending outings with old pals. honestly tired. seem so much like an excuse but physically i just can't pull myself out of the restful refuge i found at home. i never could sleep more than 8 hours a day, now 8 hours leave me feeling lethargic. O God make me more like Superwoman, with as vibrant a social life as an intellectual one. More friends to jio for outrageous fun, less desire and energy to execute. is it a good thing?

but i confess part of the problem definitely has to do with the fact that the workaholic in me never died. between senseless fun and understanding Roman Rhetoric, you know which i'll choose. it's not that i'm used to being a geek, but knowledge nourishes and refreshes me more than fun. sigh. i hope i don't die of overwork. it wouldn't be a very good testimony.

it is done.

i finally finished my paper on Clausewitz and Sun Tzu satisfactorily. Although at the expense of sleep and health. What a nightmare. I'm glad i persevered though. Thank you Lord that I didn't drop dead. really.

I can't imagine writing a thesis and having to struggle with a paper thrice at long?

layering on brick by brick

writing a 5000-word paper is like building a wall, you come up with a good stable structure upon which to hold your ideas and structure them into a coherent argument, but you're always a little unsure and open to shifting parts of the structure in order that you change the face of your architecture to be a little more indestructible. a constant low-level trepidation tugs at you to stretch yourself a bit further intellectually; to consider tearing down the structure as you go along to consider more factors like weather-proof metal and noise-canceling devices to insert into that structure, or in more dramatic instances to uproot those structures to build a firmer foundation first.. and yet you must come to a point when you decide in your heart that enough improvisation and improvement is enough and you will now concentrate your efforts to start layering on the bricks one by one. because, the most sturdy structure will always remain nothing more than an awe-inspiring structure at best and until you overcome your sense of inadequacy to step out and start on the next process of labouring, your learning cannot be complete and your skills unsharpened. When you finally end the laborious work at the end of it, you will then go away with a full appreciation that a wall is meant to provide a tangible fortress within which your ideas can stand for eternity.

Godsend.

Greetings to you from South Asian Connection. Words are powerful. Words have the power of life and death. Never underestimate the power of your words. With one small word, you can change a person’s life for better or for worse. The Bible says, “The tongu e has the power of life and death, and they who indulge in it shall eat the fruit or consequences of it - either for death or life. Proverbs 18:21.

Words have authority and can become a self-fulfilling prophecy over a person’s life. The word power used in the context of Proverbs 18:21 is a Hebrew word ‘yad’ with a word picture meaning of a physica l hand, to deliver something into someone’s hands. It is to delegate authority by what you speak and say.

Stop delegating authority through cutting poi sonous words from the pit of hell - words of death, bitterness and condemnation. With our negative words, we bind people. With our words of condemnation, we put people into emotional and psychological prisons, scarring them for life. With our words of death, we kil l people’s spirit.

Start today and decide right now to speak life giving words at all times. Positive life giving words take a life of its own in the soul of a person. The revelational word of God has got creative power to breathe life, to build and to edify. Speak life giving words of the Holy Spirit. Speak life giving words into your situation and into the lives of others. Speak hope. Speak confidence. Speak encouragement. Speak inspiration. Speak with boldness. Speak the truth.

Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation. Our words and actions are powerful beyond our comprehension. Words can kil l, words can give life. They're either poiso n or fruit—you choose.

Watch your thoughts; they become your words.
Watch your words; they become your actions.
Watch your actions; they become your habits.
Watch your habits; they become your character.
Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.

Make the most of every opportunit y. Be gracious in your speech. The goa l is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not to put them down or cut them out. Let your conversation be always full of grace seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. We are called to inherit a blessing. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.

I am responsible for what I say. You are responsible for what you say. God holds us responsible for what we say. There will be a time of reckoning when every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you and me unless there is forgiveness, true repentance and healing reconciliation.

I learnt alot about the power of the tongue through the traumatic few weeks, even if my hope to silence another's doesn't seem to have worked at all. I think for the time being, i made my stand very clear and that's good enough. I have come to realize that as a Christian, i sometimes have to stand alone, in order to stand up for what i believe in. I don't hope to convince the world that what i believe is superior or better, because it's not up to me to prove whether my beliefs stand or fall, but I do it because they are my beliefs and i appeal to another to respect them, because they have no right over my life to trample upon them like they're not worth a thing in the world. They might not matter to you but I have the right to hang on to mine and request that you steer clear of invading on my personal space to worship a God i believe in. I'm very tired to hear of everything as having a "utilitarian value" in the here and now. shortsightedness might be your state of existence but i appreciate my eternal vision very much.

philospher kings.

Socrates and Phaedrus gets into a philosophical debate about erotic love in an attempt to seduce one another. Plato records it faithfully, but they are really just surrogates for his elicit love affair with ideas.

* * *

I can be an excitable colt in the likes of Polus in Gorgias to do this and that. excitably i suggest this and that, and then realising that it's all no more than reactions to actions directed not at moi. i chuckle at myself, the irrational and reactional part of me that ceases to think in that gap of 5 seconds. Perhaps i'm still chronically hallucinating and making up stories in my head that doesn't even exist in the metaphysical realm. if only the characters would be a little more real.

Needing some space to pause to smell the flowers and do a little quirky dance.

more rants

i heart my blog. because it's so beautiful i feel inspired to write very often, even if they are just rants about everyday mundane things like how i feel and who i met.

i met doe-eyed Ralph Lauren boy today with his sleek new look. Btw I like how Therie and I are having a different look this semester as well. injects visual excitation to the semester don't you think ;) He looks less lost in school now and as charming as ever. I think he can melt an ice mountain with the warmth radiating from his smile when we parted ways today. i'm not exactly the ice queen on the block but i melted a little. Btw I got a very hot Teaching Assistant for one of my modules. I usually think it's crude to say someone is as hot as a hot potato but he really is. I sit in class observing the perfect geometry of his face. argh. iamsuchapsycho.

Guys can be such enigmatic creatures. Girls can get so easily wowed over by beauty. hmm was that a feminist-postmodern-deconstructivist statement or what?!?

study of war

Amidst lingering fatigue and a shroud of uncertainty, i continue the dance of my fingers across the keyboard. I am happily working on my Study of War essay, comparing the relative priority assigned by Clausewitz and Sun Tzu to the role of intelligence and information in preparation for war. I am pleased to say that it looks set to be an engaging and exciting paper; am going to discuss The Korean War (1950-1953) and the role of propaganda as a "non-lethal" weapon, amidst other case studies. The more i dive into the wealth of research, the more intrigued I am by the role of communications in warfare.

perhaps it's my own inclinations that determined the course of my Study of War essay, but i'm 1/2 hoping that this is the Lord's way of showing me that my thesis can be an extension of the level4k essay i am working on now. Talk about chronic laziness. bah.

I am still in labour pains with regards to trying to deliver my baby thesis idea. only few words (not concepts or ideas mind you) floating around: communications and media, politics, north korea. I am officially daunted by my first wild idea of positing the link between democracy and media in North Korea because data and information don't seem to be readily available.The silence of God and non-progress of my thesis research is deafening, in contrast to the bustle of those around me, all set to go with their topics. I'm not particularly striving to write a thesis, honestly! I think i will be quite happy to give it up if God will just tell me. But it is the lingering sense that perhaps God does have a topic for me to write on and i am to wait patiently even as i go about doing literature review.

God has been reminding me OVER and OVER and OVER these past months that He will provide water for me from a rock in the midst of the desert. It has been happening in many "small" ways like getting my modules and even orchestrating Putterman's 2 week hiatus with my paper writing for Study of War. Like how i can feel so unsure before the paper presentation but Dr Chong saying that it's a superb presentation with a good argument after that. I nearly broke down right there and then knowing that my God fought that battle for me. but I get this hunch that "the big break" is yet to come. He's going to fight even more amazing battles for me and i know i will literally just "stop and stare".

i so badly want to be right smack in the middle of God's will. I hope that's where i am. I know there's where I am :) i just wait for God to lead.

cleaner slate.

Ed called me at midnight to check out i'm doing and i started unleashing unglam spasms of sobbing across the airwaves of the Indian Ocean to the other end of Asia. I didn't realize that the gaping emptiness of Friday night masked layers of stress that I've been suppressing unconsciously. For the first time in a long time i cried and talked and sobbed some more and sniffed to make sense of all these emotions erupting finally. My heart had been protesting for the longest time to the throngs of people who have been making demands on my time and my ears: Stop urging me we should do this or do that. Stop calling me. Stop smsing me. Stop telling me we are meeting up this week or next. I just want to be left alone to think and feel for myself.

Ed was full of love and godly wisdom as usual and i woke up this morning feeling clean somehow, having spoken to a wise brother in Christ who made my thoughts and motivations clearer and less clouded by fear and uncertainty. But I know that I am still very tired emotionally and physically. I feel like I could really take sometime off for a retreat of sorts. dreaming of Taipei; the throngs of friendly, chatty, Chinese-speaking faces; the clear blue beaches and crisp clear mountain breeze; the bustling nightlife.. . make it happen, Lord.

rest in God alone.

August 20, 2008

Christ-Awareness

ODB RADIO: | Download
READ:

. . . and I will give you rest —Matthew 11:28

Whenever anything begins to disintegrate your life with Jesus Christ, turn to Him at once, asking Him to re-establish your rest. Never allow anything to remain in your life that is causing the unrest. Think of every detail of your life that is causing the disintegration as something to fight against, not as something you should allow to remain. Ask the Lord to put awareness of Himself in you, and your self-awareness will disappear. Then He will be your all in all. Beware of allowing your self-awareness to continue, because slowly but surely it will awaken self-pity, and self-pity is satanic. Don’t allow yourself to say, "Well, they have just misunderstood me, and this is something over which they should be apologizing to me; I’m sure I must have this cleared up with them already." Learn to leave others alone regarding this. Simply ask the Lord to give you Christ-awareness, and He will steady you until your completeness in Him is absolute.

A complete life is the life of a child. When I am fully conscious of my awareness of Christ, there is something wrong. It is the sick person who really knows what health is. A child of God is not aware of the will of God because he is the will of God. When we have deviated even slightly from the will of God, we begin to ask, "Lord, what is your will?" A child of God never prays to be made aware of the fact that God answers prayer, because he is so restfully certain that God always answers prayer.

If we try to overcome our self-awareness through any of our own commonsense methods, we will only serve to strengthen our self-awareness tremendously. Jesus says, "Come to Me . . . and I will give you rest," that is, Christ-awareness will take the place of self-awareness. Wherever Jesus comes He establishes rest— the rest of the completion of activity in our lives that is never aware of itself.

God says to me, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30)

my loving God.

what a glorious day the Lord has made. Rhetoric class was absolutely awesome.. and we talked alot about the bible and God and Christianity and Rhetoric. It amazes me how people are interested in my God, a God who loves everyone in a special way, a God whose love cannot increase or decrease by what we do or do not do. I'm absolutely loved, and i love God :)

This is the season of learning to balance on the beam with extra weight on my shoulders. More readings, more work, higher expectations, "enhanced" word counts in essays, more people to connect with and meet and investing in. To love people with the love of Christ, to spend time with them. I sense such a desire in me heart to invest my time and energy in the incoming batch of year1s in Navigators. I know for sure that they are the "new generation" God spoke to us of. I remember how at Matric training night Sup opened a time of listening prayer for what God is doing in NUS and both Ivy and I heard "Raise up a new generation" word for word. Such a powerful confirmation of the Lord's word. I am seeking the Lord about leading the new year 1 group.. I seek to do what He portions for me :)

Things get a little complicated as i sense a need to build a safety hedge around me and the new additions, esp with the brothers. To create that "safe" environment to love one and another as brothers and sisters in Christ. Jer thinks one of the freshmen is giving me extra attention and i somehow get "the vibes" as well. It's a delicate act of balance once again, between extending love and concern to "checking each other out". I thank God for a community within which i know i don't have to prove myself.. and I pray that i will play my part to preserve this loving community.

a rugged first week.

first week of school is finally over and lugged my laptop, backpack stuff with 5 books on war with another 2 in hand to City Hall to meet the girls for dinner and went to Chijmes for drinks after that. how incongruent, that visual image of an industrious undergraduate with all her industrious gear strotting into Le Baroque. Honestly, all i wanted to do was to escape home after a long day of classes but i knew i had to keep the commitment to go. Although it took all of my remaining 10% strength, God was good to give me a refreshing short time with Therie after class, and very comfy rides to town.

The music at Le Baroque was lousy, KC was still calling me/smsing me throughout the night, the waiters were rude, but all these can be compensated by the company that i had. 4 friends sitting round the table getting lost in their emo thoughts. Not very healthy i think, but once in a while, it allows for some quiet reflection and irrational feelings to arise like bubbles and go "pop" on the surface of a Hoegarden.

i saw PK in school after class. same resolute walk, same serious expression, same swift appearance. Some people never change. i know i changed alot in these 3 short years.

i'm pleased with how comfortable i feel in my skin these days. i'm irritated with how KC clings to me like a lifeboat. I'm excited about the modules and papers i'm going to write. I'm hesitant about taking 6 modules. I'm elated with the number of frens i have/i get to make in each class. I'm tired because i don't get enough sleep. I'm confident that this will be a good (academic) year.

I'm a bundle of emotions bubbling over and waiting to erupt in a splendid display of fountain-works.

hype.

the hyper freshmen jibes that envelope the campus every new academic year always disorientates me. the excitement and exuberance seems to an old soul rather like posturing and a tad unauthentic, as if everyone was working up to a frenzy to feel like they are in a clan-formation system. Perhaps it's the residue of orientation week? or the in-your-face hall culture, which i was never a part of. Maybe that's why it overwhelms me to the extent i feel the need to steer clear of these bustling crowds. I saw a few familiar silhouettes and faces, but only ventured to say "Hi" to those i feel i could skip the inauthenticity and be who i am. For other people, i was too tired to even make small talk, even when we were caught face-to-face. Alvin said i carry myself like a 25-year old, which i am pleased with, and have grown to like the me who will not be RA-RA for the sake of gaining attention or take up a conversation just to impress other people. i just wish i could feel more comfortable in a campus i've grown used to for the past 3 years and stop feeling like a jealous child with her territory encroached upon.

The diving suit and the butterfly

Viola, un livre joliment écrit, qui me motive pour écrire en français.

Derrière le rideau de toile mitée une clarté laiteuse annonce l'approche du petit matin. Behind the moth-eaten curtain, a milky brightness announces the approach of the early morning. J'ai mal aux talons, la tête comme une enclume, et une sorte de scaphandre qui m'enserre tout le corps.
i have pain in the heels, my head feels like an anvil and a kind of diving suit encloses all over my body. Ma chambre sort doucement de la pénombre. My room fades slowly into the twilight. Je regarde en détail les photos des êtres chers, les dessins d'enfants, les affiches, le petit cycliste en fer blanc envoyé par un copain la veille de Paris-Roubais, et la potence qui surplombe le lit où je suis incrusté depuis six mois comme un bernand-lérmite sur son rocher. I look in detail at the photos of the loved ones, children's drawings, the posters, the small white iron cyclist sent by a friend the day before Paris-Roubais, and the gallows which overhangs the bed where I am inlaid for six months as a bernand-lérmite on its rock.
Pas besoin de réfléchir long temps pour savoir où je suis et me rappeler que ma vie a basculé le vendredi 8 décembre de l'an passé. No need to think for a long time to know where I am and remind myself that my life changed Friday, December 8 of last year.

Jusqu'alors, je n'avais jamais entendu parler du tronc cérébral. Ce jour-là, j'ai découvert de plein foucet cette piéce maîtresse de notre ordinateur de bord, passage obligé entre le cerveau et les terminaisons nerveuses, quand un accident cardiovasculaire a mis ledit tronc hors circuit. Autrefois, on applelait cela et on en mourait en toute simplicité. Le progrès des techniques de réanimation a sophistiqué la punition. On en réchappe mais flanqué de ce que la médecine anglo-saxonne a justement baptisé le locked-in syndrome: paralysé de la tête aux pieds, le patient est enfermé à l'intérieur de lui-même avec l'esprit intact et les battements de sa paupière gauche pour tout moyen de communication.

Bien sûr, le principal intéressé est le dernier mis au courant de ces gracieusetés. Pour ma part, jái eu droit à vingt jours de coma et quelques semaines de brouillard avant de réaliser vraiment l'etendue des dégâts. Je n'ai tout à fait émergé que fin janvier dans cette chambre 119 de l'Hôpital maritime de Berck où pénètrent maintenant les premières lueurs de l'aube.

gift.

came home to a parcel from United States. Heidi! my dear friend i made at Yale sent me some mementos from last summer. what a surprise. Thank God for friendship. it's the most amazing thing that i have been given in life, besides family, and life itself.

my French prof, Pierre, lent me 3 films to watch today! They're all funny and good movies apparently!

I really wish to continue learning French at Alliance Française, because of how personal the learning is and the small class size (average 7?). The library rocks of course with good French literature, movie and music collection. But without good recommendations from Pierre i'd have depended much on trial and error. Pierre is new at the school but he totally rocks. one of those teachers you know who care about what they teach and who they're teaching. extremely patient as well.

I want to be prudent with my parents money though, and decided to take up French in NUS for the next 2 semesters instead, and consider continuing at Alliance Française after i graduate(being able to afford the lessons myself that is). another practical consideration is that i won't have the time to travel to Newton twice a week when school starts and i'm a whopping 4th year Political Science student. practicality. when did i acquire this necessary evil. i am missing French class already.

Came across a French album today by the most handsome French male ever. Pierre saw the CD and told me that his story is a tragic one; he was the winner of a reality singing competition and shot to fame, but all knew that he was going to die, due to a heredity disease. he eventually did pass away last year, at the age of 23.

J'ai observé le film "Peau d'âne" seul à l'Alliance Française sur un caprice hier dans la nuit puisque(depuis que) j'étais une heure tard.