The biggest battlefield is not in Iraq, or in Lebanon. The biggest battlefield - the one with the most casualties and wars fought - is within the mind. You fight the thoughts that ambush you, the demons within your brain. The small (but oft most powerful) voice of self doubt that creeps in and leaves you crippled and unsure of everything you would normally feel convicted for.

The best part is, your enemy is you.

You doubt yourself and question your self worth, entertain ideas of becomings a lesser version of yourself simply because you're tired of maintaining the standard, you indulge in whimsical ideals and fantasies (where your life is perfectly happy) that will never be fulfilled and can only result in disappointment; you focus on the miniscule, even when the important needs to be addressed and is staring you in the face.

And then you have to fight yourself.

You have to remind yourself that you are worthy and of topshelf quality, that becoming a lesser person will leave you heavy with regrets and unwanted consequences; that reality, though much less nicer, needs to be faced and the choice to be happy lies with you and not circumstance; and you force yourself to face the important and stop shirking responsibility.

Everyday is a battle. It doesn't mean that everyday is World War 3 in your mind. Some days all you have to do is sidestep some mines. Somedays you plan and prepare for the next fight ahead. Because you have to be ready to face any sneak attack you might launch. If there's one thing I've learnt about unwanted thoughts, its that they come when you least expect or want them to. They hit you in the bus while you're alone, while you're in the shower, or just when you wake up.

I've been fighting the demons in my brain alot lately, specifically my past self that tempts me to lower my standard and revert to that old lifestyle and resume old habits I've made myself give up. It's no longer a small scuffle in my brain, I'm now on a full fledged war. It's tiring and frustrating and like in any battle, there are moments where I want to raise a white flag.

I won't though. And I'll win this war soon enough.


------


Deadlines are looming even closer and for once I am assured that things will be done, and done well. Am in the best group ever - Siew, Ler, Bella and our pretty boy Jonny. lol. Our level of efficiency amazes me and all other groups I have to do projects with pale in comparison. Mediocrity sucks so much more after you've experienced excellence. :/ Have French speaking test to prep for too, and I don't even know who my partner is. Today's French tutorial was missed in exchange for 4 solid hours of conversation with Bern. Had a talk with him and I'm now moving to do more things in church and cellgroup. It's as if I've come full circle....

Ah well. I'd love to muse and rant, but it's time to get back to work. I SIMPLY CANNOT WAIT FOR SUNDAY. More soon my lovelies. (:

They say you become more and more like the people you love. It's so true, becos I've actually become slightly wofflier, and SIEW IS BECOMING LIKE ME. ie. hard ruthless biatch with her words.

Oh wait - i meant smart intelligent 'tell it like it is' genius.

HEH!

So for all you out there who thought that I was harsh with my words? Read this.

And people ask me why she's my soulmate. PFFFFFTTT.

Rain On Your Wedding Day.

If a problem has a solution, DOESN'T IT CEASE TO REMAIN A PROBLEM?

Apparently not. Because if the above were the case, I wouldn't have to do a problem and solution journalism article. And I'd be much happier.

But NO. I have to write an article about a problem, and the solution to that problem. It's beyond stupid. :/

I can't wait for 4th FEB. Simply cannot wait.


I want to swim in ice cream, bathe in milk, and smell like a nice tub of vanilla ice cream afterwards.

Thoughts Swirling In My Brain

I've been busy lately. There's been a sudden rush of events that I've had to participate in (Open House, SAC Camp, PROJECTSPROJECTS) and most days I'm so exhausted I just collapse into bed and crash. Hence the total lack of substantial posts. But there are a million things running in my head and I want to get it out.

Don't blame me if this post is (more than) slightly random and haphazard-ish.


- I miss Orchard Road. I don't miss the shopping, but I miss walking down the busy streets through the crowds with my trusty iPod at hand (or rather, in ears).

- Chipped nail polish really bugs me. It's one of those pet peeves that annoy me no end. And yes, STS, I'm totally talking about you.

- What's up with wannabes? I'm not talking about just one specific group (like Emo punks for example) *coughyeahrightcough* but I've certainly met a few the last few days for me to be curious as to how they are/work. I would never want to overly imitate anyone. Why be a second rate version of someone when you could be the best version of yourself?

And since we're loosely on the topic of emo kids, I will never understand incessantly whiny, self-pitying idiots who for some deluded reason think it's cool to dress like a moron (read: tight black tapered pants), slash their wrists and bitch about the world all day. This is all purely my opinion, fyi. I mean, if you're happy being an emo kid then by all means continue with your (albeit odd) lifestyle. But the whole point of being emo, I would assume, is to be unhappy and miserable with everything and everyone. Which makes the whole 'happy about being emo' slightly paradoxical and probably impossible. Hahaha

- After a conversation with Bella/Ler/STS, I conclude that if I were forced to choose between a slightly emotionally retarded, old fashioned guy (who believes that real men don't cry) and a sensitive new age guy who is in tune with his emotions, I'd take the emotionally retarded one over sensitiveboy any day. And twice on Sundays.

- CellGroup yesterday was amazing. After two weeks without seeing some of my favourite people in the world, it was such a relief to see my cellgroup members last night. And more than that, it was so refreshing. Like running through a waterfall after a hot tired day, or jumping into a swimming pool after a sun tanning session. It's a brilliant feeling.

- I can't stand the word 'but'. It's one of the worst words in the world. It changes a positive to a negative, it disguises a negative as a positive.

"I agree with you... BUT"
"I understand.. BUT"

and the worst, most dreadful one is "I'm sorry... BUT"

It's a dreadful word.

- A.R Bernard is in town and I'M SO EXCITED!!!!!!!!! I'm definitely going to be educated, encouraged, and empowered. Cannot wait cannot wait. 5 more hours to go. YAYNESS


Ok now I've gotta get back to my work. Piles and piles of projects staring at me. They are exactly like the disease. :/ Later, my lovelies.

I'm so happy 'cos you're so happy. (:

My sister looks damn hot and I need to show the world how amazing she looks.

So there. Hahaha

I'm going to wait, instead of settling for second best.


Come quick.

I am not one to enjoy school events and anything even remotely related to school. I am the most antisocial person when it comes to participating in school camps, open houses, jam and hops (which I'll come to in awhile), and the usual host of events organized by a bunch of complete retards whose idea of fun is sitting in the sun and doing some lame ass cheer. (Ok the analogy was weird but hey I don't know what those enthu types do anyway :/) I am the girl who is most happy to leave school after class hours. The girl who finds it stoopid to hang around school for no reason.

But.

I must (albeit slightly grudgingly) admit that I had tremendous fun the past week participating in open house. The thrill of acting in front of a lecture theatre full of people, meeting a whole bunch of people and finding an indielover (who gives EXCELLENT backrubs) was all totally amazing. Even if I had to look hideous for the performances and it was a really crappy week for me, I have to say I did enjoy myself. Jam and Hop is not something I'll do again (god the cheena music totally killed me) but the company made it really fun. (Hirzi you are my Wade Robson, yo)

So. Many thanks to the fabulous Munah for asking me to join the whole LT Show Production. Thanks to everyone who participated in the show - you guys make me want to eat my words. I had a really sweet time. (:

Wogay. I have Journalism outline to do and I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT A SOLUTION FEATURE ARTICLE IS LIKE. I r so screwed. More another time my lovelies.

Speak Cryptic

Thanks for loving me when I'm not myself.


Favourite phrase this week -
"I AM THE COUNTESS OF CONDOMS. Don't talk to me. DON'T TALK TO ME."


Murphy needs to find someone else to befriend. CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEW WEEK TO COME.



See you all

So Much For The Sabbatical....

You know. The funny thing about pain/grief is that it never goes away, and it hits you when you least expect it - like at six in the morning while you are trying to sleep.

You wake up because something really hurts - in the OMGWTFBBQ you just stabbed me way - and by the time you are conscious enough to figure out what the heck hit you and what (and where) exactly it hurts, you can't go back to sleep. So you toss and turn, desperate to get back to sleep because you have a disgustingly long and potentially very tiring day ahead.

You fail.

You end up dragging your sorry ass outta bed to sit in the living room (your faithful dog following you and sitting right beside you thankfully), staring at your laptop screen typing nonsense. Hoping that your nonsense makes sense because you are really too damn tired and in pain to know whether you are coherent or not.


So I'm sitting here like a moron, in pitch darkness (the sun hasn't even risen yet) and total silence, trying not to cry even though it hurts like shit. The sharp pain that woke me up almost an hour ago has become this dull and hollow feeling in my chest and I feel disgustingly empty.

I didn't feel a thing yesterday. In fact (and I'm quite ashamed to say it) it barely crossed my mind last night, probably because I've been so busy and I didn't know what date it was. Maybe my subconscious was taking longer than it should to remind me that in exactly a month's time, it will be 1 year of not seeing him.

One full year. The big one - the first anniversary. 365 days. a few hundred thousand minutes and a few million seconds. The days have flown by. Flown by too fast in fact. 365 days seem like such a long time to spend without someone you love - and in some ways it is, and it isn't.

For the past couple of weeks I've been wondering how the hell I spent the most part of 2006 so happy. Did it mean I missed him less or not loved him enough? Was my grief span insufficient? The rest of the time is spent trying to recollect the old memories - even the dusty ones that I've long forgotten of. Those brief moments that didn't seem significant at the time - like walking into the kitchen and watching him cook while he was humming his favourite hymn - but now I treasure so dear and (most unfortunately) struggle to recollect.

I was reasonably happy still probably because in my mind it didnt fully register (for lack of better word and because it's really hard to express myself clearly) that he's gone. Most days I told myself he was a long business trip and that I would see him. See him soon. But this year, as so many major things happen at home and in my life - things that require me to look into the future (sister's wedding, for example) - I can't help but realize that he won't be coming back any time soon. In fact, he won't be walking through the front door ever again. He won't be there for her wedding, he won't be there to pick furniture and help paint her house with us like a huge family project, he won't be there to cook up a feast after the project. He won't see my future nephews and nieces. He won't send her down the aisle.

He won't be there to send me down the aisle too. He won't see my kids, or meet the first boyfriend I dare to bring home. He won't be there anymore.

And it hurts. Reality hurts. It's like the heart wants to stop beating because everytime it pumps blood, it hurts like a pregnant woman going through her contractions. It hurts everywhere and every part of me hurts. It just hurts. I can't quantify the pain, or say it is greater than yours, whoever you are. But I am in a lot of pain. Still. It's been 11 months and a day, and I am still in alot of pain.

It doesn't go away. It doesn't diminish.

It just hurts.

You know that feeling. The one where your stomach churns like its processing yoghurt. When your heart drops to your toes and you feel utterly and completely nauseated. The horrible sense of helplessness that hovers around you like bad aura. The feeling you get after leaving The Blower's Daughter on repeat on your iPod the whole day. It feels like a cumulus nimbus decided to permanently attach itself to your head. When you want to do something but you know that there is nothing that could ever remedy the situation and anything done would be futile.

Multiply that by a thousand and take it to the depths of infinity, and maybe that's how hell would feel like...

or how I feel when I look at the mass of project deadlines looming gloomily ahead.



Woe.

I have got second row tickets to watch the amazingly gorgeous and talented RACHAEL YAMAGATA in the Esplanade on 17 March.

Woohoo. (:

I haven't been blogging simply because I don't want to sound emo and dead. I am feeling both. But I don't like writing shit down, because it's no use magnifying the negative.

So I'm shutting up. Take it that I'm taking a (much needed) break, or consider it my sabbatical, if you will. But till I no longer feel like a corpse,

here's goodbye and goodnight, folks.

My sister bought her house today. It will be the very first home she can call her own, where her kids will be born in and where I will go to visit as the cool young aunt. In a few months, she will move out of our room, move out of our house and embark on her brand new life as a wife and a full fledged adult.

We all went to see the house she bought today. It's a modest four room flat on the 12th story in a comfortable neighbourhood near us. There's a straight bus to our house, and it's pretty convenient. It was exciting, looking at her new home, imagining how it would be, how the whole family would be part of the process together with her - renovating the apartment, shopping at Ikea, choosing wall colours, sinks and toilets - I'm so looking forward to it.

After the family outing to her new house, we reached home and started packing the christmas decorations away. It was just as we were clearing the ornaments and the tree that it hit me - My sister will be leaving us. For the first time in 17 years, I will have a room to myself and I'll sleep alone. Just thinking about it feels weird.

I'm going to miss her.

2006 was a year of change, and I believe 07 will be likewise. For the family, for me, and I'm looking forward to it. I'm still not completely used to the idea that it's 07 already - I keep feeling that the end of the year is approaching. I can't wait for what the next 11 months (plus) are going to bring. I actually believe it's going to be an awesome year.

Wogay. Done with my semi filler post (I thought if I didn't blog I might have to send my blog to the morgue). Still very much in love with Jason Mraz - now that's something that won't change anytime soon. School's good. Life's good. I'm happy.

Goodnight darlings.

This wasn't really supposed to be the first post of 2007... but because I've been swamped with assignments and projects and speech outlines and omgwtfbbq thinking about it makes me want to vomit, here's my favourite phrase of the whole day:

"Lings says:
i mean, you're gonna be in formal shit and you're rambling on like some starstruck kid about Neil Gaiman and whatnot :/"

So there. This is my first post. Have a good too-zero-zero-se7en everyone.