End of the world.

Pitch darkness,

we're meant to see.

The end of it all,

for you and me.

They whispered,

they shouted.

The snickered,

they pouted.

Chaotic, and scary,

in fear they declared.

Gone is electric,

Oh such a despair.

Goodbye to their love ones,

daughters and sons.

Goodbye little children,

whose life haven't begun.

But wait just a minute,

just give me some time.

The world can't just end yet,

especially not mine.

So look at your calendars,

and look at your phones.

The 21st has past,

and I'm still at home.

Typing this poem,

so you can all see.

'2.0.1.2',

is just a movie.

Miracle.

20. 12 . 2012

Considering the world is going to 'end' tomorrow,

my sister and I decided to make our last meal.

TANG YUAN.

Wonderful white and pink colored balls of chewy flour.

It's not that I really think the world is going to end,

but if it really did...

I wonder if I lived my life to the fullest.

Sounds so cliche.

But really.

I'm 19.

Has 19 years been enough?

I know it won't really take a miracle to see the sun set tomorrow..

but I know that if and when it does,

I'll have another day.

Another day to be a miracle for someone else.

Bundle of blunders.

I lie here quietly in the shadows of my room. As rays of sunlight breaks the still darkness of the atmosphere. The winds of the early morning breeze causes my pale curtains to flutter, and more light gushes in. 

And I wait. 
Wait for the first thought of the day to creep into my head..



I like to write. 

Always have. There are many mediums which one can pour emotions into, be it music, dance, exercising, (drugs,smoking, drinking; God bless your soul ) and even food. I put mine in words.


I want to give thanks. Strangely enough, give thanks for every single plunder I have fell into. You see,
giving thanks for the good things is something that anyone could do. It aint original.

Why give a man what he already has?

Why do unto yourself what you can already do?

Therefore, give sight to a man blind at birth;

And do unto yourself what you are truly worth.

                                               ~Joyce Khoo (inspirations before breakfast)          

My life is pretty easy. Fair share of pain and grief. But relatively easy to many. 
Yet, it is the little things that can drive me insane. A whole culture and obsession of trying to be perfect,
act perfect, look perfect. But why? I've asked myself countless of times.


But nevertheless.
I give thanks. That within a personal struggle to battle this chaotic yet silent war, I recognize myself a 
little more. I recognize how massively flawed I am yet I know I am far from worthless, simply because I choose not to be. 


I wouldn't say I have everything figured out. Heck. I often have no clue what I really am doing.
But isn't that how life is suppose to be. You're not suppose to know it all, neither are you suppose to have it all. What's the fun in that?


For when you win some, you rejoice. When you lose some, you try again.

If I knew I would never fail,

 I wouldn't have to try. 

I would think I have it all,

ignorantly living a lie.

So to all out there that feel a little lost,

a little down, 

and a little empty.

Know that this game hasn't ended,

the prizes, 

there are plenty.

Wondering how I measure up,

My reflection right against the wall.

Gazing back a girl in the mirror,

trying to fight it all.

To fight the pressures of a material world,

to fight protocol.

They say it's really nothing,

they say you should not fear.

You think it should be easy,

But answers are never that clear.

For Little miss perfect bangs at the door,

and she just won't go away.

She's looking to cling to me,

She's looking for a place to stay.

So in my troubles, 

I want to find a place my heart can delight.

A joy from above to fulfill one's heart,

A joy from doing what's right.

Look at me my child,

and tell me what do you see?

 Have I ever told you,

that you aren't good enough for me?

For if you saw yourself through my own eyes,

your sorrows,

your fears would disappear.

For my heart longs for your joyfulness,

as I watch over you,

my presence near.

So never again will you ever belittle yourself.

Don't let others determine your grade.

For you belong to me,

my child.

And you are fearfully and wonderfully made

With that thought.

I give thanks.

HELLO! HELLO!

They see me rollin'

They hatin'

Meet the crew.

3/4 of the crew.

*We're missing Nina and Kelvin.

Well,

I promised you pictures of our trip to cultural village.

So here.

The long house where we tried the blow pipe.

I must say I was pretty good.

The waterfall.

We had doubts whether it was real..

The top seemed more like a pipe.

But it was still real pretty.

"Kinda like plastic surgery.

 fake.

But pretty."

Moving on.

I was fortunate enough to be invited to a dinner with Ian,KZ and Bec.

There was terrible karaoke.

Words were wrong.

Tune...

None!

It was hilarious.

CIAO!

All is good in the hood.

I went to Cultural village.

It was hot.

I sweated sweat.

It's getting pretty late.

I barely see the letters on the keyboard...

 but basically I had a good day.

Filming with the crew.

iamsotired

I promise there will be decent post about it tomorrow.

With lots of pictures.

I know you like pictures.

:P

Goodnight.

Special moments.

19 feels good.

Doesn't really feel that different.

But still good. 

Well, for those of you that don't know.

I turned 19 yesterday.

You can still wish me/ give me presents/ buy me a car-or-house/ FOOD/ anything.

I'm flexible. Any of the above would do.

Well,

It's been quite awhile since I blogged,

but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.

In my case, I just needed a break.

Dinner with the family. 

The very people that raised me and made me the interesting person I am.

Thank them for they gave birth to your source of entertainment (how ever short).

ME.

Today's post would be something I recently cross pathed with.

It started with this book.

Special Moments. 

The journey of a mother and her disabled daughter.

And within it all,

how she found strength to give thanks.

I just came back from the EIP Christmas Party.

EIP stands for Early Intervention Program.

For special kids.

It was chaotic.

Extremely chaotic.

Children running in every direction and screaming in every language.

Laughing, crying, clapping.

But it was so beautiful.

Within all that chaos, there lied so much beauty.

They sang.

Along with their parents and teachers.

"God is good, All the time.

He put this song of praise in this heart of mine."

..and I was just blown away.

How this world defines good has just lost all its meaning.

What is good?

Well,

good; was the teachers that are able to love this little children, flaws and all.

good; was the 3 year old being able to sing even half the lyrics of the song.

good; was not crying when they went up on stage.

good; for this little children..

was being alive.

To be honest,

I was barely awake when I found out I had to attend this party.

Skipping breakfast and slipping into decent looking clothes,

my dad, my sister and I took to the event.

We were hungry.

But we didn't mind being patient.

After all,

 our patience only had to last a morning.

While we sat there and admired the patience of loving parents.

Patience that would last a lifetime.

The love of a mother.

It requires a special kind of love, for a special kind of child.

To bear every negativity the world could/would throw at her,

and love unconditionally the baby in her arms.

"Because through it all, I will be with you"