Life, why are you so puzzling --
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Thursday, March 17, 2016
this drama is one to Remember
ohmygod, did I just make a lame pun there, ahah.
I am 2 episodes away from the end of this drama Remember, and it has been a fantastic ride so far.
The acting chops overall were so impressive, I am struggling to look for a synonym and adjective to better describe how I feel.
Park Min Young has always hit jackpot year after year with her dramas; I don't know how she does it. It's like black magic, ahah -- she always kills it as the female lead for any intense hurt/comfort OTP scenario. Last year we had her with Ji Chang Wook in Healer, and at some point earlier, it was with Lee Min Ho in City Hunter -- I mean, she seems to keep appearing in my favourite hero dramas!
Then we have the main villain who was superbly acted by Nam Goong Min; I cannot say this enough, I think -- he was so, so good. He really gave this drama the oomph. The rage meter for the drama can largely be attributed to him; he is so nuts, so evil, and so dysfunctional, all viewers want is to to see him burn. HAHAHA. As I watch, I hate him so much, it's hilarious; and at the same time, the back of my brain is noticing how so super-awesome this actor is and I'm scrawling down a memo to look him up later.
And finally, we have our hero played by Yoo Seung-ho, who has been living up to Korea's expectations of him. The first time I saw him was in a drama when he was ~17 years old acting as a secondary character in Warrior Baek Dong Soo. I was puzzling over why an important character was given to this mere boy who could barely pull off the physical demand of the role (i.e. warrior in a historical setting! he was sooo small then). But even then, at a young age, I could see it -- there was a calibre to him. And Korea was just waiting for him to grow up properly so they could cast him as lead hero, haha. Now at 22 years, I think he has proven himself beyond a doubt in this drama. I haven't checked for sure, but he's probably the youngest in this entire cast of veteran and much, much older actors and proving himself equal to (if not better!) than all of them. Simply, this boy is amazing and has years to go in the industry for us to watch.
I am 2 episodes away from the end of this drama Remember, and it has been a fantastic ride so far.
The acting chops overall were so impressive, I am struggling to look for a synonym and adjective to better describe how I feel.
Park Min Young has always hit jackpot year after year with her dramas; I don't know how she does it. It's like black magic, ahah -- she always kills it as the female lead for any intense hurt/comfort OTP scenario. Last year we had her with Ji Chang Wook in Healer, and at some point earlier, it was with Lee Min Ho in City Hunter -- I mean, she seems to keep appearing in my favourite hero dramas!
Then we have the main villain who was superbly acted by Nam Goong Min; I cannot say this enough, I think -- he was so, so good. He really gave this drama the oomph. The rage meter for the drama can largely be attributed to him; he is so nuts, so evil, and so dysfunctional, all viewers want is to to see him burn. HAHAHA. As I watch, I hate him so much, it's hilarious; and at the same time, the back of my brain is noticing how so super-awesome this actor is and I'm scrawling down a memo to look him up later.
And finally, we have our hero played by Yoo Seung-ho, who has been living up to Korea's expectations of him. The first time I saw him was in a drama when he was ~17 years old acting as a secondary character in Warrior Baek Dong Soo. I was puzzling over why an important character was given to this mere boy who could barely pull off the physical demand of the role (i.e. warrior in a historical setting! he was sooo small then). But even then, at a young age, I could see it -- there was a calibre to him. And Korea was just waiting for him to grow up properly so they could cast him as lead hero, haha. Now at 22 years, I think he has proven himself beyond a doubt in this drama. I haven't checked for sure, but he's probably the youngest in this entire cast of veteran and much, much older actors and proving himself equal to (if not better!) than all of them. Simply, this boy is amazing and has years to go in the industry for us to watch.
Friday, March 11, 2016
Had to take a pause while watching this kdrama called Remember --
-- because my goodness, it reminded me of the famous documentary Making A Murderer
(I'm half wondering if the drama writers weren't entirely influenced by Steven Avery's story)
and it's making me so emotional.
I hadn't blogged about it, but E and I spent the nights during our Cameron Highlands getaway watching this documentary from start to end -- and God, it so enraged us. And now watching this kdrama, the rage comes back, haha oh dear. If you have no clue what all this is about, please watch the trailers. And watch the documentary at least.
Unlike real life, the drama has a protagonist on whom we're putting our hopes, and as the audience, we demand that one day, in drama years, justice will prevail. There will be vindication.
Real life, however. RAGE. Just rage. Why are people evil.
Who says reality isn't dramatic. So much drama!
Who says reality isn't dramatic. So much drama!
Tuesday, March 08, 2016
Sunday, March 06, 2016
hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul
finally, a moment.
I couldn't find a moment (you know, crazy busy weekdays and crazy wedding weekends). Not that I was occupied a 100% outside of right now -- but you know, the right moment. to pen thoughts.
or just one thought, maybe, for now.
That is... I think I'm finally realising the meaning of the maxim: to hope, but not expect.
It is a thin line. That sweet spot called hope, that is neither despair, nor entitlement or expectation. And insya Allah, this is a step-up in iman; because this does seem like a type of submission. I'm starting to wonder too if we're being taught the same core lesson over and over but always being given an up on the ante with respect to the context, as we go on with life.
Hope gives me leave to live according to my heart, in consort with my head, insya Allah.
When I was a young girl, there was a fad started by the used-to-be-awed Lance Armstrong who fought against cancer and continued cycling in the Tour de France: these hand bands that said LIVE STRONG. People would sport it in a range of colours on their wrists -- mostly in association with athleticism and resilience etc. Later, I decided that while this live strong idea was quite awesome -- you know, not giving up, striving hard no matter what -- the motto that was preferable for me to live by was to LIVE TRUE.
It was something that stuck with me as I grew older and stays with me today.
Live true to myself, true to God and his Beloved Nabi s.a.w., and to have hope in my heart.
I couldn't find a moment (you know, crazy busy weekdays and crazy wedding weekends). Not that I was occupied a 100% outside of right now -- but you know, the right moment. to pen thoughts.
or just one thought, maybe, for now.
That is... I think I'm finally realising the meaning of the maxim: to hope, but not expect.
It is a thin line. That sweet spot called hope, that is neither despair, nor entitlement or expectation. And insya Allah, this is a step-up in iman; because this does seem like a type of submission. I'm starting to wonder too if we're being taught the same core lesson over and over but always being given an up on the ante with respect to the context, as we go on with life.
Hope gives me leave to live according to my heart, in consort with my head, insya Allah.
When I was a young girl, there was a fad started by the used-to-be-awed Lance Armstrong who fought against cancer and continued cycling in the Tour de France: these hand bands that said LIVE STRONG. People would sport it in a range of colours on their wrists -- mostly in association with athleticism and resilience etc. Later, I decided that while this live strong idea was quite awesome -- you know, not giving up, striving hard no matter what -- the motto that was preferable for me to live by was to LIVE TRUE.
It was something that stuck with me as I grew older and stays with me today.
Live true to myself, true to God and his Beloved Nabi s.a.w., and to have hope in my heart.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Friday, February 12, 2016
I'm properly excited now to re-visit a well-loved place.
Scotland, I heart you more than ever.
Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
Say, could that lass be I?
Merry of soul, she sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.
Billow and breeze, islands and seas,
Mountains of rain and sun...
All that was good, all that was fair,
All that was me is gone.
---
and ah, anticipating Season 2! this show is so pretty (for the place and the people) and epic. I've talked it over with E, and I conceded that it has not shined extraordinarily as literature (and I am only ~40% through the book; obviously I went on ahead with the TV version, eheh) but dang, it makes exciting TV! Also, it has an OTP to root for, and I'm obviously a sucker for that.
Hmm
I'm waiting on some other awesome show comebacks this year:
Prison Break, for one! (eeps, I loved Michael Scofield.)
And Gilmore Girls! which I don't watch --
but even I want to know if Jess and Rory will finally get together. :P
Monday, February 08, 2016
TO FORGIVE IS...
To begin
and there is so much to forgive:
for one, your parents, one and two,
out of whose dim haphazard coupling
you sprang forth roaring, indignantly alive.
For this, whatever else followed,
innocent and guilty, forgive them.
If it is day, forgive the sun
its white radiance blinding the eye;
forgive also the moon for dragging the tides,
for her secrets, her half heart of darkness;
whatever the season, forgive it its various
assaults -- floods, gales, storms
of ice -- and forgive its changing;
for its vanishing act, stealing what you love
and what you hate, indifferent,
forgive time; and likewise forgive its fickle
consort, memory, which fades
the photographs of all you can't remember;
forgive forgetting, which is chaste
and kinder than you know;
forgive your age and the age you were
when happiness was afire in your blood
and joy sang hymns in the trees;
forgive, too, those trees, which have died;
and forgive death for taking them,
inexorable as God; then forgive God
His terrible grandeur, His unspeakable
Name; forgive, too, the poor devil
for a celestial fall no worse than your own.
When you have forgiven whatever is of earth,
of sky, of water, whatever is named,
whatever remains nameless,
forgive, finally, your own sorry self,
clothed in temporary flesh
the breath and blood of you
already dying.
This made me cry, snot and all.
I had to put aside the reading,
and spend a good while repeatedly swiping at tears and thinking,
and then, now,
blogging.
I'm thinking... perhaps,
part of the reason for suffering and pain in the world,
is so as to engender beauty,
like this.
and there is so much to forgive:
for one, your parents, one and two,
out of whose dim haphazard coupling
you sprang forth roaring, indignantly alive.
For this, whatever else followed,
innocent and guilty, forgive them.
If it is day, forgive the sun
its white radiance blinding the eye;
forgive also the moon for dragging the tides,
for her secrets, her half heart of darkness;
whatever the season, forgive it its various
assaults -- floods, gales, storms
of ice -- and forgive its changing;
for its vanishing act, stealing what you love
and what you hate, indifferent,
forgive time; and likewise forgive its fickle
consort, memory, which fades
the photographs of all you can't remember;
forgive forgetting, which is chaste
and kinder than you know;
forgive your age and the age you were
when happiness was afire in your blood
and joy sang hymns in the trees;
forgive, too, those trees, which have died;
and forgive death for taking them,
inexorable as God; then forgive God
His terrible grandeur, His unspeakable
Name; forgive, too, the poor devil
for a celestial fall no worse than your own.
When you have forgiven whatever is of earth,
of sky, of water, whatever is named,
whatever remains nameless,
forgive, finally, your own sorry self,
clothed in temporary flesh
the breath and blood of you
already dying.
Dying, forgiven, now you begin.
-- Pamela Wagner
This made me cry, snot and all.
I had to put aside the reading,
and spend a good while repeatedly swiping at tears and thinking,
and then, now,
blogging.
I'm thinking... perhaps,
part of the reason for suffering and pain in the world,
is so as to engender beauty,
like this.
Sunday, February 07, 2016
This is a happy post, on a happy night!
just to remind and prove to myself,
the constant ups and downs of life --
they are to be expected.
And when life dips into a valley, for sure,
a peak is up ahead, insya Allah.
Had a nice meet-up with J, that culminated with a nice heart-to-heart chat at the end of the night.
And I am remembering beautiful, awesome, funny things to be thankful for.
Like the time I was trying to figure out what a phrase meant
whilst reading HP in Arabic
cause I really just couldn't find the root verb --
only to discover it translated to Viktor Krum! HAHA.
And the time I marveled at my class for being so awesome
and the best support system I could imagine
as a growing professional in my field
and this is 3 years out of school.
GOD I LOVE MY CLASS SO MUCH
AND WE NEED TO HAVE A MEET-UP BADLY
My family indulging ourselves in silly, private jokes
I can't even remember anymore how goose came to mean good! haha.
And Arashi putting a smile on my face!
(:
Thursday, February 04, 2016
Read this recently: The Differences Between Happiness and Meaning in Life
...even though meaning-making may be associated with negative emotions in the moment, it may contribute to greater resiliency and well-being in the longer-term.
I've been fairly torn and confused about whether it's a good thing or not to be equally negative as well as positive here, feeling pressured about having to put up a strong and positive attitude to things and life -- being adult, does it not apparently mean that you've got things figured out? That you've got two stable feet on the ground, so you bloody-well have no business wallowing about anything or being angsty at all. Or having existential crises at every other turn in life.
But at least this article is saying how a range of emotion is necessary for personal development and growth. So yes, to be constantly upbeat and happy on this blog is not only deceitful, but detrimental to well-being.
I have horrible days at least half the time! And other days that are wonderful.
And I need to get adequate sleep because I am guessing that it's the reason my fuse is getting shorter and shorter these days. And also the reason this post is so disjointed and incoherent.
...even though meaning-making may be associated with negative emotions in the moment, it may contribute to greater resiliency and well-being in the longer-term.
I've been fairly torn and confused about whether it's a good thing or not to be equally negative as well as positive here, feeling pressured about having to put up a strong and positive attitude to things and life -- being adult, does it not apparently mean that you've got things figured out? That you've got two stable feet on the ground, so you bloody-well have no business wallowing about anything or being angsty at all. Or having existential crises at every other turn in life.
But at least this article is saying how a range of emotion is necessary for personal development and growth. So yes, to be constantly upbeat and happy on this blog is not only deceitful, but detrimental to well-being.
I have horrible days at least half the time! And other days that are wonderful.
And I need to get adequate sleep because I am guessing that it's the reason my fuse is getting shorter and shorter these days. And also the reason this post is so disjointed and incoherent.
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
I don't think I've felt more in my life...
how I want to be away from other people.
And be alone.
on looking back at moments,
I really am happiest when roaming by my lonesome
not having to explain myself to people
or be in a certain way or behave as expected.
And it's not like I hate particular persons or anything --
I'm just tired.
I am missing my time with E in Cameron Highlands
when all we did was move at sloth-pace,
roam around nature armed with a camera,
having awesome food like scones, strawberries, and cream,
and enjoying the quietness of things.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
A promising k-drama called Moorim School that's got me so super-excited, I have to rein myself in;
cause one generally has to be cautious with the love to prevent disappointment.
but ohhhhmygod, sign me up for this.
this drama has my favourite tropes and is hence hitting all the right buttons for me.
It feels like HP! but not quite. or wait, maybe it feels like DT.
- a special school that is hidden and mysterious (after Hogwarts, how can anyone not love this trope -- if done well, of course); they have a you-choose-whatever-class-you-want-to-attend system, and only morning exercise is compulsory!
- a wise-mentor figure that does not let on what he knows -- gah, frustrating!
- secret histories of characters that hook you in
- very-likely hero prophecy plot -- and the icing on the suspense: we're not 100% sure who it is yet!
- intense rivalry/enmity that is looking like it will develop into an unlikely blood-brothers-friendship -- no bonus points for guessing that this was the clincher for me, because DTDraco/Harry, duh. And the pair of male leads are an orphan and an unloved-rich-kid to boot.
- kickass female leads who fight with sticks and fists; strong women are always necessary
- a subtle yet supernatural element threading through the world as we know it: do our boys have special powers? which one of them does?
- I can sense the existence of a really, really evil villain, the magnitude of whom cannot yet be comprehended by our protagonists who are embedded in the dramas of youth: figuring out goals and dreams, and juggling school with love, friendship, and bullying.
Basically, yes, it's HP, ahahah. Not all of it of course, but definitely the coming-of-age, finding yourself in the world, the world is more than what it seems, good-vs-evil part.
And speaking of awesome schools -- met K and N at a work course today, and had a hilarious account of the sad state of our Singaporean schools. Sad in the sense of it being... crazy, machine-making, unreal, and inhumane. (In other words, a microcosm of the actual adult world in Singapore, I guess.) K was telling us how she has morphed into a nutso-Mother who texts teachers and is obsessed over tests and exams hahaha -- and how she needs to return to her old chill self.
Because yes, K (oh how I miss her, she's so awesome), was, is, one of the coolest Mums I know out there. When we were in school, she was proof for me of a loving Mum who lived her own life, participated actively in the community, did not micro-manage her kids, and had awesome kids anyway! because you lead and parent by example more than anything. Despite being a busy mother, she still organised our class outings, planned class events, got involved in Muslim efforts, and basically built a career. She didn't miss out on the fun side of life. Of course, her husband is awesome-beyond-awesome. Seriously, behind every great man, is a great woman, and vice versa.
So anyway, K was telling us in her typical, comic, make-everyone-burst-into-laughter way, of her eldest boy scoring 93+ marks for all subjects in Primary 1 and still not gracing anywhere near the top 10 position in his class. Where apparently, it was not an uncommon event for kids to attain full marks on every single test paper since day 1 in school. Because, it appears, that marks are what all Singaporean parents have their eyes on.
And don't make me start on the increasingly-accepted norm of parents taking substantial amounts of leave because their kid is sitting for PSLE -- APPALLING. I cannot even. what. no, people, no. There is something wrong here. This is not right. Something is not right. And I don't know how or what to say, because they are my friends too some of them who do this.
My future kids, should God grace me with that responsibility, will likely be home-schooled. Why would I want to subject my kids to this life, seriously? So K was like all, yes, I need to home-school them, and what about character and resilience and tenacity and less outcome-oriented-ness and we were laughing it out.
God, I miss my class. I miss these two friends of mine. And unless it's Hogwarts or Moorim, I'm not sure I want to let my children go to school.
Monday, January 18, 2016
i fail to be light, yet again
Sitting by my lonesome in the wee hours of the morning, reading, and blogging, and doing whatever crosses my mind -- because my short holiday break from work has commenced! yay.
Maybe I really should consider having leave from work like this on a regular basis, so that I can return to my reflections without the thought of work responsibilities cluttering my mind. And I am aware that my being single and having generally few responsibilities allows me the luxury of delving into my personal projects to what feels like almost-infinite lengths of time. Alhamdulillah for that and for all the little things I fail to perceive.
Thoughts in point form!
* I thought today about how independent I am, or in other words... how selfish I am? Clearly, I don't run the nitty-grittys of my life, such as putting a roof over my head, since I live under my parents' roof (it's only monetary contribution that I give). Obviously, I owe a lot to them, and I need them; life would be way more of a struggle without them. I probably should express more gratitude for all of that. But what I mean when I say independent is the sense that I don't like being... tied down, told what to do, given expectations and roles to live by. And in general, I feel like I don't depend, or at least I don't want to depend on them. It's horrible of me, but I have now and then envisioned myself living somewhere far away by myself, so that I didn't have people's expectations to live up to. So that I could totally and freely explore being me without feeling like an ingrate. Which I feel like I am right now, hence this rambling. Don't get me wrong, I love my family -- couldn't have been blessed with better. But I always wanted that being by myself thing -- and it was probably the biggest push for me to study overseas when I was younger and hence was more than disappointed when I didn't manage to.
Oh gosh, it's been some time since I've blogged and felt like I needed to delete something because it shouldn't be for public consumption. And then I will often have a fight with myself because I fight for authenticity, and another part of me will fight for my self-image, because really, S, do you want to shoot yourself in your foot? Why do you always sabotage yourself?
* Which brings me to a memory of what Y said when we met up at the baby shower, after a long time. She exclaimed, Hah, you're still blogging??? and further implied how ridiculous it is to display things for the world to see. Which made me almost want to strike her off my friend list, but luckily, I treasure our friendship -- okay, I kid. I was hurt and affronted, so I gave in to some vindictiveness.
But really, how does one write at all if one does not write what one knows? And I already have a hard time half the time trying not to be too specific talking about things because yes, Y, despite what you said, you do know that I do not write things for the world to see. I don't mention people or even events clearly enough to have them be identified with more than a 60% certainty (most of the time). And the problem with that is, when you try to discuss or talk about things, it gets... fuzzy, and difficult, and meaning gets lost in my abstractness. Or even I get lost in my own abstractness -- when really, at the end of the day, I was really just upset that so-and-so did such-and-such to me, end. It is not easy to be an authentic reflective public blogger! (who also attempts to be politically, and socially correct)
Yes, why do I even do this. Other than the fact that I simply have the impulse to write.
* I really don't like who I am tonight.
* I feel like there's a general assumption that adults should have reached a peak or a status quo in terms of development of intellect, character, and spirituality. So people just don't feel like reflections like mine above are valid? Why are you blogging? Why are you writing a diary? Grow up!
What are the benefits of confronting one's ugliness? Evaluate them for rectification, I suppose. Swallow the reality of who you are... and then, strive to attain some level of beauty?
As always, I envision holding my heart in my hands, all battered and defective, for all my times of having stupidly dealt with things -- self-sabotage and what-not, and hand them over to You. For I don't trust anyone else, especially myself.
Maybe I really should consider having leave from work like this on a regular basis, so that I can return to my reflections without the thought of work responsibilities cluttering my mind. And I am aware that my being single and having generally few responsibilities allows me the luxury of delving into my personal projects to what feels like almost-infinite lengths of time. Alhamdulillah for that and for all the little things I fail to perceive.
Thoughts in point form!
* I thought today about how independent I am, or in other words... how selfish I am? Clearly, I don't run the nitty-grittys of my life, such as putting a roof over my head, since I live under my parents' roof (it's only monetary contribution that I give). Obviously, I owe a lot to them, and I need them; life would be way more of a struggle without them. I probably should express more gratitude for all of that. But what I mean when I say independent is the sense that I don't like being... tied down, told what to do, given expectations and roles to live by. And in general, I feel like I don't depend, or at least I don't want to depend on them. It's horrible of me, but I have now and then envisioned myself living somewhere far away by myself, so that I didn't have people's expectations to live up to. So that I could totally and freely explore being me without feeling like an ingrate. Which I feel like I am right now, hence this rambling. Don't get me wrong, I love my family -- couldn't have been blessed with better. But I always wanted that being by myself thing -- and it was probably the biggest push for me to study overseas when I was younger and hence was more than disappointed when I didn't manage to.
Oh gosh, it's been some time since I've blogged and felt like I needed to delete something because it shouldn't be for public consumption. And then I will often have a fight with myself because I fight for authenticity, and another part of me will fight for my self-image, because really, S, do you want to shoot yourself in your foot? Why do you always sabotage yourself?
* Which brings me to a memory of what Y said when we met up at the baby shower, after a long time. She exclaimed, Hah, you're still blogging??? and further implied how ridiculous it is to display things for the world to see. Which made me almost want to strike her off my friend list, but luckily, I treasure our friendship -- okay, I kid. I was hurt and affronted, so I gave in to some vindictiveness.
But really, how does one write at all if one does not write what one knows? And I already have a hard time half the time trying not to be too specific talking about things because yes, Y, despite what you said, you do know that I do not write things for the world to see. I don't mention people or even events clearly enough to have them be identified with more than a 60% certainty (most of the time). And the problem with that is, when you try to discuss or talk about things, it gets... fuzzy, and difficult, and meaning gets lost in my abstractness. Or even I get lost in my own abstractness -- when really, at the end of the day, I was really just upset that so-and-so did such-and-such to me, end. It is not easy to be an authentic reflective public blogger! (who also attempts to be politically, and socially correct)
Yes, why do I even do this. Other than the fact that I simply have the impulse to write.
* I really don't like who I am tonight.
* I feel like there's a general assumption that adults should have reached a peak or a status quo in terms of development of intellect, character, and spirituality. So people just don't feel like reflections like mine above are valid? Why are you blogging? Why are you writing a diary? Grow up!
What are the benefits of confronting one's ugliness? Evaluate them for rectification, I suppose. Swallow the reality of who you are... and then, strive to attain some level of beauty?
As always, I envision holding my heart in my hands, all battered and defective, for all my times of having stupidly dealt with things -- self-sabotage and what-not, and hand them over to You. For I don't trust anyone else, especially myself.
Monday, January 11, 2016
Ah, I should blog, I should just blog. I used to fall to this a lot more frequently, a lot more easily, when I was younger. Because writing things, privately or otherwise, and saying things out -- clarifies one's own thoughts first, before it helps others.
The fruit of all the service that I serve
Despair doth reap, such hapless hap have I.
But though he have no power to make me swerve
Yet, by the fire, for cold I feel I die.
In paradise, for hunger still I starve;
And, in the flood, for thirst to death I dry.
So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain
Amids my help, and helpless doth remain.
Help me to seek, for I lost it there,
And if that ye have found it, ye that be here
And seek to convey it secretly.
Handle it soft and treat it tenderly,
Or else it will plain and then appear;
... Help me to seek
... I wis it was a thing all too dear
To be bestowed and wist not where;
It was my heart. I pray you heartily,
Help me to seek.
Reading this for God-knows-how-many-times-already, but today hit me differently, harder, than before. And made me want, in that very instance, to go home and cry into a pillow. But instead, I sat sipping a Mango macchiato at a KOI cafe, stared into space, and waited for a meet-up with J.
Then there are excellent comic moments that make me snort out loud, like when Nostradamus was trying to advertise his complexion cream:
"If used from the age of fifteen," Master Nostradamus said briskly, "it will preserve lifelong beauty and enable the skin at sixty to look as young as that of a twenty year-old. The contents are quite pure. Sublimate, quicksilver, rose-water, and the saliva of a young person who for three days has eaten onions without vinegar. Boiled, I may assure you, for the length of two Paternosters and two Ave Marias, repeated with reverence."
...
She sent for the pot of complexion cream. If one had to turn back the clock, one might as well begin systematically.
I'm trying not to be deliberately cryptic, really, but these are my thoughts, all jumbled throughout the day. Was it Walt Whitman the poet who said -- I am large. I contain multitudes. To put them all to coherent form and give commentary, is maybe to analyse prematurely, who knows. Besides, I don't think I have the mental energy. Let me just have them recorded, and some other day...
The fruit of all the service that I serve
Despair doth reap, such hapless hap have I.
But though he have no power to make me swerve
Yet, by the fire, for cold I feel I die.
In paradise, for hunger still I starve;
And, in the flood, for thirst to death I dry.
So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain
Amids my help, and helpless doth remain.
Help me to seek, for I lost it there,
And if that ye have found it, ye that be here
And seek to convey it secretly.
Handle it soft and treat it tenderly,
Or else it will plain and then appear;
... Help me to seek
... I wis it was a thing all too dear
To be bestowed and wist not where;
It was my heart. I pray you heartily,
Help me to seek.
Reading this for God-knows-how-many-times-already, but today hit me differently, harder, than before. And made me want, in that very instance, to go home and cry into a pillow. But instead, I sat sipping a Mango macchiato at a KOI cafe, stared into space, and waited for a meet-up with J.
Then there are excellent comic moments that make me snort out loud, like when Nostradamus was trying to advertise his complexion cream:
"If used from the age of fifteen," Master Nostradamus said briskly, "it will preserve lifelong beauty and enable the skin at sixty to look as young as that of a twenty year-old. The contents are quite pure. Sublimate, quicksilver, rose-water, and the saliva of a young person who for three days has eaten onions without vinegar. Boiled, I may assure you, for the length of two Paternosters and two Ave Marias, repeated with reverence."
...
She sent for the pot of complexion cream. If one had to turn back the clock, one might as well begin systematically.
I'm trying not to be deliberately cryptic, really, but these are my thoughts, all jumbled throughout the day. Was it Walt Whitman the poet who said -- I am large. I contain multitudes. To put them all to coherent form and give commentary, is maybe to analyse prematurely, who knows. Besides, I don't think I have the mental energy. Let me just have them recorded, and some other day...
On a lighter note, put forth by the lighter aspects of my self:
It goes to show how far gone I am that I get how this is funny. This was AWEsommmmmeee! ohhhmygod. Unfortunately, unless you have enough knowledge of the history of this show, and the history of its members, this wouldn't be half as funny. And it shocks me again -- how am I this nut. Why do I so easily get sucked into things.
And Gary's latest music video has Jihyo in it --
Way to fan the flames, Monday couple.
You two just know you'll rake in all the $$$ exploiting your very evident chemistry, deshou?
Last but not least, something I just finished watching, that talks about the importance of mentors.
It has crossed my mind several times: Who can help me? I don't know anybody.
Where do I find them? Oh, I kid myself.
Several names and possibilities have already popped into my head.
The question appears to be,
how do I gather the guts and the discipline to do what needs to be done?
Saturday, January 02, 2016
Well, now I just feel silly.
Just came back from the yearly Ihtifal Maulid Nabi (i.e. celebration for our Prophet's s.a.w. birthday) -- only in SG this time round, meh -- and I was reminded today how small my self-absorbed problems were. Yes, they bother me. Yes, they unfortunately exist, at least in my mind. But the moment I started thinking about Nabi s.a.w., all I wanted to do was cry and cry and cry. For being so silly. For ever forgetting about him and the big picture and trust and faith. I don't like being this silly, pathetic woman. I want to be strong and work hard and make you proud. Please keep me close to you.
Today was very long, but I noticed a bit more this time how we were all concertedly there together, despite language barriers, racial differences, across distances, and across comfort zones, to be united under the same Prophet. It made me happy. Like, given another situation, would we be doing this? Would I have gone to a Tamil-Muslim house, say, to visit one of their boys who recently got into an accident? Would I go out of my way to take care of him seeing as how he's going to be coming to KK Rehab for therapy? Would we sit listening to Qasidahs in Urdu and Burmese and funny English lines thrown into the midst of the drumbeats? Would I have otherwise ever gotten to meet and hug and love people who I barely know but feel an affinity for? Sudanese, Yemenis, Syrians, Egyptians, Saudis, Malaysians, Indonesians and Burmese.
I'm remembering the two Syrian boys I met a year ago -- I hope they're fine. The family was already out of Syria and living in Turkey by that time when we met.
There's so much work to do out there, S. Let's get cracking. I think it's good that Rabiul Anwar is coinciding with the Gregorian New Year. Makes for a refreshing all-round renewal.
Just came back from the yearly Ihtifal Maulid Nabi (i.e. celebration for our Prophet's s.a.w. birthday) -- only in SG this time round, meh -- and I was reminded today how small my self-absorbed problems were. Yes, they bother me. Yes, they unfortunately exist, at least in my mind. But the moment I started thinking about Nabi s.a.w., all I wanted to do was cry and cry and cry. For being so silly. For ever forgetting about him and the big picture and trust and faith. I don't like being this silly, pathetic woman. I want to be strong and work hard and make you proud. Please keep me close to you.
Today was very long, but I noticed a bit more this time how we were all concertedly there together, despite language barriers, racial differences, across distances, and across comfort zones, to be united under the same Prophet. It made me happy. Like, given another situation, would we be doing this? Would I have gone to a Tamil-Muslim house, say, to visit one of their boys who recently got into an accident? Would I go out of my way to take care of him seeing as how he's going to be coming to KK Rehab for therapy? Would we sit listening to Qasidahs in Urdu and Burmese and funny English lines thrown into the midst of the drumbeats? Would I have otherwise ever gotten to meet and hug and love people who I barely know but feel an affinity for? Sudanese, Yemenis, Syrians, Egyptians, Saudis, Malaysians, Indonesians and Burmese.
I'm remembering the two Syrian boys I met a year ago -- I hope they're fine. The family was already out of Syria and living in Turkey by that time when we met.
There's so much work to do out there, S. Let's get cracking. I think it's good that Rabiul Anwar is coinciding with the Gregorian New Year. Makes for a refreshing all-round renewal.
Friday, January 01, 2016
c'est la vie
Ah, I meant to post before the new year! but as always, procrastination is my greatest weakness.
I actually had two previous drafts for my final end-year-reflection post, but because I had a super-ambitious post in my mind, I kept stalling with the writing and neither of those drafts got completed. So I figured -- S, stop being ambitious and just write, dang it.
Here are my thoughts and ramblings as the new year begins and 2015 is no more.
*My battles stay the same. Still fighting feeling weird and out-of-place in my late twenties. Every day I question why I'm so weird. Why can't I just be normal like everyone else. I think I've lost count the number of ways I've tried to think about this, me, my life. I've told myself it's all in my head, I've recognized and acknowledged that it's a very INFP trait, I've tried to change my mindset, and I've even attempted embracing my perceived weirdness. I have my good days, but this outsider syndrome with its negative emotional effects persist. Sometimes I get a headache thinking about it cause obviously I go around in circles.
*Starting a book club possibly one of the best things that happened in 2015, hand-in-hand with the growing love and attachment to my Kindle.
*Unpleasant experiences in the second half of the year with respect to attempting and obliging to be paired up in real life. Reality clashing terribly with my idealistic thoughts. Realising that I simply cannot live with the cognitive dissonance -- to the point of physical discomfort, really. I cannot pretend to do things for the sake of practicality. I am idealistic, and I don't know how to live or think any other way. And then, having made my decisions, I bash myself up about them and the level of ingratitude I exhibit. There is nothing more tiring and more surely leading to depression than constant self-blame and guilt. I think that's why my angst resurfaced as well, and haha, reading fics like this not helping very much either:
*Work was wonderful in comparison. I've had a great professional year. The work team has shifted in terms of dynamics, for the better. I feel more confident too, more trusted as a valuable team member -- one of my seniors even dubbed me the outpatient guru because I do so many outpatient speech-language clinics! I've been given opportunities to explore new theories, new ideas, learning new things; my thirst for knowledge is sufficiently fed and watered within this field and I find joy amidst the bustle of everyday work. I haven't shared this with anyone yet, but I might even recommence inpatient training. And my plan for the future keeps shifting -- I have ideas about my own personal projects, but I also feel increasingly attached to the team, to the environment, and the learning that does happen within the pressure cooker.
Having said all that, overall, I do feel calm in general about life. I do feel like I'm not stagnant, and that's what counts. And that though I struggle, I feel I'm growing. Or maybe in fact, because I struggle, then I grow. I pray that I never lose guidance and continue to seek it, because life is a long journey and more often than not, a rough uphill climb.
I actually had two previous drafts for my final end-year-reflection post, but because I had a super-ambitious post in my mind, I kept stalling with the writing and neither of those drafts got completed. So I figured -- S, stop being ambitious and just write, dang it.
Here are my thoughts and ramblings as the new year begins and 2015 is no more.
*My battles stay the same. Still fighting feeling weird and out-of-place in my late twenties. Every day I question why I'm so weird. Why can't I just be normal like everyone else. I think I've lost count the number of ways I've tried to think about this, me, my life. I've told myself it's all in my head, I've recognized and acknowledged that it's a very INFP trait, I've tried to change my mindset, and I've even attempted embracing my perceived weirdness. I have my good days, but this outsider syndrome with its negative emotional effects persist. Sometimes I get a headache thinking about it cause obviously I go around in circles.
*Starting a book club possibly one of the best things that happened in 2015, hand-in-hand with the growing love and attachment to my Kindle.
*Unpleasant experiences in the second half of the year with respect to attempting and obliging to be paired up in real life. Reality clashing terribly with my idealistic thoughts. Realising that I simply cannot live with the cognitive dissonance -- to the point of physical discomfort, really. I cannot pretend to do things for the sake of practicality. I am idealistic, and I don't know how to live or think any other way. And then, having made my decisions, I bash myself up about them and the level of ingratitude I exhibit. There is nothing more tiring and more surely leading to depression than constant self-blame and guilt. I think that's why my angst resurfaced as well, and haha, reading fics like this not helping very much either:
Why is everyone married?” I cry after Mrs Kennedy leaves, “Am I the only one?”
“I’m not married,” Linda points out, “And I wouldn’t worry about it, love. Plenty more fish in the sea.”
“No, haven’t you heard? Fish are becoming scarcer and scarcer! That’s why salmon is so expensive these days! THERE ARE NO MORE FISH!”
“Calm down,” Gladys tries to soothe me.
“And anyway, I caught my fish and threw him back in,” I say, “I don’t deserve any more fish.”
“I’m not married,” Linda points out, “And I wouldn’t worry about it, love. Plenty more fish in the sea.”
“No, haven’t you heard? Fish are becoming scarcer and scarcer! That’s why salmon is so expensive these days! THERE ARE NO MORE FISH!”
“Calm down,” Gladys tries to soothe me.
“And anyway, I caught my fish and threw him back in,” I say, “I don’t deserve any more fish.”
— Still Delicate, padfoot4ever
*Work was wonderful in comparison. I've had a great professional year. The work team has shifted in terms of dynamics, for the better. I feel more confident too, more trusted as a valuable team member -- one of my seniors even dubbed me the outpatient guru because I do so many outpatient speech-language clinics! I've been given opportunities to explore new theories, new ideas, learning new things; my thirst for knowledge is sufficiently fed and watered within this field and I find joy amidst the bustle of everyday work. I haven't shared this with anyone yet, but I might even recommence inpatient training. And my plan for the future keeps shifting -- I have ideas about my own personal projects, but I also feel increasingly attached to the team, to the environment, and the learning that does happen within the pressure cooker.
Having said all that, overall, I do feel calm in general about life. I do feel like I'm not stagnant, and that's what counts. And that though I struggle, I feel I'm growing. Or maybe in fact, because I struggle, then I grow. I pray that I never lose guidance and continue to seek it, because life is a long journey and more often than not, a rough uphill climb.
Saturday, December 26, 2015
some love stories are really forever
This isn't my wrap-up post for the year, although I've been really, really meaning to -- but the family just watched Dilwale together hehe, and I just wanted to post this:
Honestly, the plot was so weak, it barely crawled.
But if anything, this was a tribute to the Shak Rukh-Kajol pairing
that has spanned more than 20 years; and that, I fully support.
Seriously, the both of them on-screen together is just so awesome,
I'm starting to wonder which pairing in Bollywood could ever replace them!
And juxtaposed against the young couple pairing in this movie
only highlighted the amazing chemistry even more.
Not to mention that Kajol looks inexplicably gorgeous -- how on Earth.
2015 coming to a close soon, my friends. And yes, I owe a blog post.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
my reflection post for the year is due, it being December! Subhanallah how this year has flown, and every year seems to be flying by faster.
Don't think I have the energy to give a full reflection piece yet, but maybe a quick wrap-up of the main events of the year -- like my brother getting married and therefore me gaining another sister. Sisters are always great to have! (:
Don't think I have the energy to give a full reflection piece yet, but maybe a quick wrap-up of the main events of the year -- like my brother getting married and therefore me gaining another sister. Sisters are always great to have! (:
Also, this year has record number of friends having babies!
Pigey being the most recent, and the most...
jarring? is that the word to describe the feeling?
I mean -- it doesn't feel that long ago
when we were all kids ourselves and being thoroughly silly and immature.
How is it that one of us has a kid? Haha.
Also, this is just lovely and should be kept.
Tala'al badru 'alaina --
one of those songs my siblings and I learnt before we properly learnt to talk
and this makes very big fuzzy feelings in my heart.
after all the hate, seriously -- I cried like mad watching the Canadian PM giving his speeches.
Ya Rasulullah, please let your light shine in deserving hearts.
Amin.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Monday, November 30, 2015
I need to cultivate my supapawa
There will be moments when I have entire posts planned in my head, even specific lines that get conjured up that beg to be written down -- but then, time moves on, and the plans and lines fade from my mind, losing their intensity. They missed their moment, and cannot be reproduced without them feeling fake.
Which is why, words are also time beings. Words are especially time beings. You've got to catch them when they form and grasp them tightly for transfer onto something more concrete, like paper, or video, or at least into someone's memory.
It's the cold fish dying in your stomach feeling. You try to forget about it, but as soon as you do, the fish starts flopping around under your heart and reminds you that something truly horrible is happening.
Jiko felt like that when she learned that her only son was going to be killed in the war. I know, because I told her about the fish in my stomach and she said she knew exactly what I was talking about, and that she had a fish, too, for many years. In fact, she had lots of fishes, some that were small like sardines, some that were medium-sized like carp, and other ones that were as big as a bluefin tuna, but the biggest fish of all belonged to Haruki #1, and it was more like the size of a whale. She also said that after she became a nun and renounced the world, she learned how to open up her heart so that the whale could swim away. I'm trying to learn how to do that, too.
At one point, Nao, the teenage girl, asked if only depressed people cared about philosophy. And that line made me even sadder, because when I get into one of these philosophical moods, I do feel extra sad, extra like-an-outsider, and thinking how, my God, I don't think I'm made for this world at all. Oh well -- Nabi s.a.w. did say that some of the best people are the ones who travel this world light, knowing that we're really not here for forever.
It's amazing my love affair with books: how they affect me, and leave major imprints on my heart, on my mind.
I've been remembering this thought, this memory: I remember going for a scholarship interview years and years ago, and nerdily mentioning Lymond, in relation to either books I love, characters I admire or citing leadership quality maybe -- can't quite recall. And then the Indian man who interviewed me said something about how this book must be really popular, the boy who was in just before you mentioned him too! At which of course, I almost got entirely derailed from the purpose of my being there (i.e. a job/scholarship interview) -- because Lymond? Popular? A boy reading it? Are you kidding me??? My eyes must have been almost rolling out of their sockets in shock. I think I insinuated to the interviewer that he must have been mistaken, but he was like, Really! And I was like, Okaaay...
I concluded by the end though, that the interviewer really must have been mistaken about Lymond -- there was no way it could be true. I could not find a single human being in my vicinity who was reading Lymond when I was, and I had to force my friends to read the books just so I could have people to discuss with! That was how desperate I was.
If it was true though, then: who is this boy! That's what I wanted to know. We would have had lots to discuss.
Which is why, words are also time beings. Words are especially time beings. You've got to catch them when they form and grasp them tightly for transfer onto something more concrete, like paper, or video, or at least into someone's memory.
This story is intensely philosophical, moving, and made me cry unexpectedly;
but written with the straightforwardness of a teenage girl.
It's the cold fish dying in your stomach feeling. You try to forget about it, but as soon as you do, the fish starts flopping around under your heart and reminds you that something truly horrible is happening.
Jiko felt like that when she learned that her only son was going to be killed in the war. I know, because I told her about the fish in my stomach and she said she knew exactly what I was talking about, and that she had a fish, too, for many years. In fact, she had lots of fishes, some that were small like sardines, some that were medium-sized like carp, and other ones that were as big as a bluefin tuna, but the biggest fish of all belonged to Haruki #1, and it was more like the size of a whale. She also said that after she became a nun and renounced the world, she learned how to open up her heart so that the whale could swim away. I'm trying to learn how to do that, too.
At one point, Nao, the teenage girl, asked if only depressed people cared about philosophy. And that line made me even sadder, because when I get into one of these philosophical moods, I do feel extra sad, extra like-an-outsider, and thinking how, my God, I don't think I'm made for this world at all. Oh well -- Nabi s.a.w. did say that some of the best people are the ones who travel this world light, knowing that we're really not here for forever.
It's amazing my love affair with books: how they affect me, and leave major imprints on my heart, on my mind.
I've been remembering this thought, this memory: I remember going for a scholarship interview years and years ago, and nerdily mentioning Lymond, in relation to either books I love, characters I admire or citing leadership quality maybe -- can't quite recall. And then the Indian man who interviewed me said something about how this book must be really popular, the boy who was in just before you mentioned him too! At which of course, I almost got entirely derailed from the purpose of my being there (i.e. a job/scholarship interview) -- because Lymond? Popular? A boy reading it? Are you kidding me??? My eyes must have been almost rolling out of their sockets in shock. I think I insinuated to the interviewer that he must have been mistaken, but he was like, Really! And I was like, Okaaay...
I concluded by the end though, that the interviewer really must have been mistaken about Lymond -- there was no way it could be true. I could not find a single human being in my vicinity who was reading Lymond when I was, and I had to force my friends to read the books just so I could have people to discuss with! That was how desperate I was.
If it was true though, then: who is this boy! That's what I wanted to know. We would have had lots to discuss.
Monday, November 23, 2015
My sister asked, "What would you do if your friend or the person you love does something really bad, or something you don't like?"
I said, "Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds."
Ahah.
Have I mentioned how I've ambitiously purchased Shakespeare's sonnets on my Kindle?
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alterations finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Subhanallah.
So angry. And I think I manifest anger in strange ways. I often say how anger in me usually transforms quickly into sadness and depression.
Maybe a couple of nights' sleep will do some good and then, I will get back some equanimity and deal with this in the best way possible, insya Allah.
I want to please You. I want to please Your Beloved. Forgive me if it has been otherwise. Forgive me that I am still trying.
I really don't understand how some people are just out to condemn. Such negative thoughts! Isn't there that aphorism: people live up to your expectations of them! Why constantly think the worst of other people! I am so sick of it, truly.
So angry. And I think I manifest anger in strange ways. I often say how anger in me usually transforms quickly into sadness and depression.
Maybe a couple of nights' sleep will do some good and then, I will get back some equanimity and deal with this in the best way possible, insya Allah.
I want to please You. I want to please Your Beloved. Forgive me if it has been otherwise. Forgive me that I am still trying.
I really don't understand how some people are just out to condemn. Such negative thoughts! Isn't there that aphorism: people live up to your expectations of them! Why constantly think the worst of other people! I am so sick of it, truly.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
I read on a little further and found this.
In reality, every reader, while he is reading,
is the reader of his own self.
The writer's work is merely a kind of optical instrument,
which he offers to the reader to permit him to discern what,
without the book, he would perhaps never have seen in himself.
The reader's recognition in his own self of what the book says
is the proof of its truth.
-- Marcel Proust
The value of fiction is that ironically it helps us see the truths in ourselves? (:
So when I feel like I see parts of my life in a story, it's only because I'm reading a great piece of fiction that's teaching me more about myself.
And E reminded me of this great piece: Can Reading Make You Happier?
In reality, every reader, while he is reading,
is the reader of his own self.
The writer's work is merely a kind of optical instrument,
which he offers to the reader to permit him to discern what,
without the book, he would perhaps never have seen in himself.
The reader's recognition in his own self of what the book says
is the proof of its truth.
-- Marcel Proust
The value of fiction is that ironically it helps us see the truths in ourselves? (:
So when I feel like I see parts of my life in a story, it's only because I'm reading a great piece of fiction that's teaching me more about myself.
And E reminded me of this great piece: Can Reading Make You Happier?
So I finally watched Interstellar after L completely bugged her eyes out at me when she learnt that I hadn't seen it yet. And especially after I said how much I love stories that incorporate some concept of time.
I need to sit and discuss this movie with someone. Because, uh, I am somewhat confused. Someone needs to explain certain things to me, like how I'm supposed to wrap my head around the concept of five-dimensional space or how the heck Cooper dropped through a black hole and ended up where he precisely needed to be? Are we saying we still don't know the "they" that have been mysteriously placing things in just the right places and times for them? Or are they themselves the "they"? Cooper said he brought himself there. Or are we not supposed to know the "they", we just know they're there and they have been helping and the whole point is to trust that there's a they out there looking out for us... out of love? Is it God? Is it us? Is it fate as a tangible thing? Is it future humans taking care of their ancestors? (Oh my god, did I just mention off the top of my head a series of divine beliefs including Chinese ancestral worship? GASP -- I just proved to myself why this movie is starting to build a cult following.)
Like what the heck, you Nolans! Storytelling geniuses, and way to not let me sleep tonight.
This movie and our current seriously-awesome bookclub read, A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki, are both making my head hurt, my heart hurt. Things are resonating painfully with what I feel in real life. And I don't know if I'm imbuing meaning to the text, or they really are messages to me -- how do I tell? How do I tell. It's like little Murph in tears, trying to convince her Dad that there's a message that's telling him to stay, except no one believes her. So how to keep faith? How.
One of my favourite bits of dialogue here --
that made my heart thud at the possibility of this theory:
I need to sit and discuss this movie with someone. Because, uh, I am somewhat confused. Someone needs to explain certain things to me, like how I'm supposed to wrap my head around the concept of five-dimensional space or how the heck Cooper dropped through a black hole and ended up where he precisely needed to be? Are we saying we still don't know the "they" that have been mysteriously placing things in just the right places and times for them? Or are they themselves the "they"? Cooper said he brought himself there. Or are we not supposed to know the "they", we just know they're there and they have been helping and the whole point is to trust that there's a they out there looking out for us... out of love? Is it God? Is it us? Is it fate as a tangible thing? Is it future humans taking care of their ancestors? (Oh my god, did I just mention off the top of my head a series of divine beliefs including Chinese ancestral worship? GASP -- I just proved to myself why this movie is starting to build a cult following.)
Like what the heck, you Nolans! Storytelling geniuses, and way to not let me sleep tonight.
This movie and our current seriously-awesome bookclub read, A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki, are both making my head hurt, my heart hurt. Things are resonating painfully with what I feel in real life. And I don't know if I'm imbuing meaning to the text, or they really are messages to me -- how do I tell? How do I tell. It's like little Murph in tears, trying to convince her Dad that there's a message that's telling him to stay, except no one believes her. So how to keep faith? How.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Sunday, November 01, 2015
How is it already November.
This blog has started to crawl to almost a standstill. It hasn't been like this in more than 10 years.
I have no idea what this means, if anything.
Been revisiting old angsty feelings (are all these events connected somehow? -- the slow blogging of my early teenage days, the angst, the fanfic reading; yes, you heard me). I haven't felt like I want to break plates in a long time. But tonight, in between being properly adult and sane, there were brief flashes of angst.
Maybe it really is because of the fanfic I just got done with -- and you know how some people are 90% what they just read? Yes, maybe that's it. The protagonist is such an angry woman, I think she's rubbing off on me.
I should probably go read some proper literature.
This blog has started to crawl to almost a standstill. It hasn't been like this in more than 10 years.
I have no idea what this means, if anything.
Been revisiting old angsty feelings (are all these events connected somehow? -- the slow blogging of my early teenage days, the angst, the fanfic reading; yes, you heard me). I haven't felt like I want to break plates in a long time. But tonight, in between being properly adult and sane, there were brief flashes of angst.
Maybe it really is because of the fanfic I just got done with -- and you know how some people are 90% what they just read? Yes, maybe that's it. The protagonist is such an angry woman, I think she's rubbing off on me.
I should probably go read some proper literature.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
waxing fangirling nostalgia
This is here because I couldn't stop laughing while watching this --
it's fangirling in action:
Fangirling in whichever genre, language or country is the same;
the falling all over the floor like crazy especially cracks me up!
And I totally approve: Song Joong Ki remains on my favourite Korean actors list without budging -- and staying power more than anything bespeaks value, right?
GOD. I wish Joong Ki was still a Running Man.
Then we'd get to see him every week.
This fangirling behaviour reminds me of the time my friends and I were having breakfast during our recess from Arabic class -- and lo and behold, Nouman Ali Khan was sitting at the next table. I saw him first -- cause the sole lady there was staring pointedly at me when we were obliviously hunting for seats -- almost as if daring me to notice. Which I did, of course. When we sat down, I quietly announced to my table what was happening -- and the flurry that followed, ohmygod. HAHAHA. HILARIOUS. Because my cousin became completely flustered and got everyone else flustered and went like, "Where, where! How, how!" And the moment the boys from our class started moving towards him, the ladies jumped out of their seats too: "We want a photo also!"
Not to mention tripping over our feet in front of him and shaking so badly that it was impossible to take a photo. Ridiculous! I was so embarrassed. If it was just me alone, I would probably have feigned ignorance and quivered with excitement inside at best.
Even if it was Yamapi at the height of my youthful infatuation (I can't believe I'm so over him now -- ah, fickle celebrity love), I probably would just freeze like an ice block. Overt fangirling needs company.
---
I don't know why I'm in such a random mood tonight --
but here's something else which had me in stitches:
I'm sure I've posted this here before in the past -- but it so deserves a re-post.
This entire cast was classic.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
why are ravens like writing desks?
I'm alive!
This has to be one of the longest breaks I've had here in years. Not sure why it happened -- just maybe the fact that there was always a gazillion other things that took priority over this blog, valid or not. I think it's gotten to that point again -- why am I writing? who am I? (like seriously, S, at age 28?) I'm still discovering or rediscovering facets of myself -- I suppose it's always better to be growing than not.
Lots have been happening.
*A few friends and I have started a book club! And it's one of those things in life one just has a very good feeling about -- know what I mean?
*I also had a rather long break from work back in September, starting from Polling Day and stretching on for two weeks -- that included a Bali villa-getaway, an amazing self-paid Social Thinking Conference and Workshop (that gave me awesome ideas for social skills clinics!), and Hari Raya Haji. You would think with that much time away from work, I would get down to reflecting and blogging, right? I don't know what got into me.
*I successfully co-conducted two separate talks in primary schools about teaching and caring for our special kids in the mainstream setting! as M likes to say it --- coola!
*I am way overdue for a proper, reflective post -- my thoughts have been simmering for weeks and weeks. And it needs to be let out -- but believe me when I say I should sleep. I really should just SLEEP instead of blog right now. I don't know if everyone's work day is this much nuts (it probably is because I largely blame our crazy Singaporean capitalist culture for our lifestyles) -- but see, the moment I step into work, like literally the very second I step through those glass doors -- work just doesn't stop. I can buy breakfast but it would seriously be sitting there unopened until maybe lunchtime on some days. Like today, I managed to down my cold tahue whilst I grabbed a 30 minute discussion with my NUS student. The flurry of activity at work is just out of this world -- I am doing magical feats, I tell you. I cannot imagine what the medical doctors are doing upstairs in the wards. They might as well be Flash the superhero, as far as I'm concerned.
*Which brings me nicely to this point: that despite how seriously inhumane work demands are right now, I am so deeply thankful that I love this career. It is possibly my ikigai (:
I cannot imagine slogging away at something I don't at least feel a passion for -- and looking back, taking that step to pursue something different in my younger days, has really been one of the best decisions I've ever made. I've mentioned before: how I've learnt that the right decision appears to be accompanied by a feeling of liberation, rather than a feeling of entrapment. I carry that knowledge now into the future as I battle through other rough, unknown terrains.
*That rough unknown terrain currently being this incessant need to be married off before I tick off like a time bomb or something (whyyyyyy). I question my iman -- it probably is terribly deficient in many ways. But what do I do -- I just. Can't. Don't. Know. All I know is I don't want to feel trapped. Do I even make sense? I hope I do. I want a man who will set me free. I want an ikigai-equivalent in this part of my life too, can?
*Yes, I often speak in hyperbole and metaphor, okay. (It's the way E and I talk all the time. I should totally record one of our nutsy conversations.) Not everything is to be taken literally. Because sometimes, truths can only be seen when situations are stretched to the extreme.
*It's like what Dr. Jeffrey Lang advised us to do in his talk about The Purpose of Life (which woohoo! Shaykh Hamza recommended on his blog after I did okay, hehehe -- see why this shaykh is still my favourite no matter what?):
(circa ~1:49) When you want to investigate the truth about something, assume the opposite and see if it fits the big picture/life/our existence. So for example, if you ask, "Why does God let little children suffer? They're too young to know anything, it's heartbreaking", think of the opposing hypothetical situation where children are invulnerable until they're adult. What do you get? What happens to the world?
Then Mummys and Daddys wouldn't need to be Mummys and Daddys anymore. Parenting would be robbed of its value.
This has to be one of the longest breaks I've had here in years. Not sure why it happened -- just maybe the fact that there was always a gazillion other things that took priority over this blog, valid or not. I think it's gotten to that point again -- why am I writing? who am I? (like seriously, S, at age 28?) I'm still discovering or rediscovering facets of myself -- I suppose it's always better to be growing than not.
Lots have been happening.
*A few friends and I have started a book club! And it's one of those things in life one just has a very good feeling about -- know what I mean?
*I also had a rather long break from work back in September, starting from Polling Day and stretching on for two weeks -- that included a Bali villa-getaway, an amazing self-paid Social Thinking Conference and Workshop (that gave me awesome ideas for social skills clinics!), and Hari Raya Haji. You would think with that much time away from work, I would get down to reflecting and blogging, right? I don't know what got into me.
*I successfully co-conducted two separate talks in primary schools about teaching and caring for our special kids in the mainstream setting! as M likes to say it --- coola!
*I am way overdue for a proper, reflective post -- my thoughts have been simmering for weeks and weeks. And it needs to be let out -- but believe me when I say I should sleep. I really should just SLEEP instead of blog right now. I don't know if everyone's work day is this much nuts (it probably is because I largely blame our crazy Singaporean capitalist culture for our lifestyles) -- but see, the moment I step into work, like literally the very second I step through those glass doors -- work just doesn't stop. I can buy breakfast but it would seriously be sitting there unopened until maybe lunchtime on some days. Like today, I managed to down my cold tahue whilst I grabbed a 30 minute discussion with my NUS student. The flurry of activity at work is just out of this world -- I am doing magical feats, I tell you. I cannot imagine what the medical doctors are doing upstairs in the wards. They might as well be Flash the superhero, as far as I'm concerned.
*Which brings me nicely to this point: that despite how seriously inhumane work demands are right now, I am so deeply thankful that I love this career. It is possibly my ikigai (:
*That rough unknown terrain currently being this incessant need to be married off before I tick off like a time bomb or something (whyyyyyy). I question my iman -- it probably is terribly deficient in many ways. But what do I do -- I just. Can't. Don't. Know. All I know is I don't want to feel trapped. Do I even make sense? I hope I do. I want a man who will set me free. I want an ikigai-equivalent in this part of my life too, can?
*Yes, I often speak in hyperbole and metaphor, okay. (It's the way E and I talk all the time. I should totally record one of our nutsy conversations.) Not everything is to be taken literally. Because sometimes, truths can only be seen when situations are stretched to the extreme.
*It's like what Dr. Jeffrey Lang advised us to do in his talk about The Purpose of Life (which woohoo! Shaykh Hamza recommended on his blog after I did okay, hehehe -- see why this shaykh is still my favourite no matter what?):
(circa ~1:49) When you want to investigate the truth about something, assume the opposite and see if it fits the big picture/life/our existence. So for example, if you ask, "Why does God let little children suffer? They're too young to know anything, it's heartbreaking", think of the opposing hypothetical situation where children are invulnerable until they're adult. What do you get? What happens to the world?
Then Mummys and Daddys wouldn't need to be Mummys and Daddys anymore. Parenting would be robbed of its value.
Listen to it:
(this is one of several versions you can find on youtube -- but it's the longest!)
Wah it's been a while since I've had a somewhat stream of consciousness post.
Ja -- the kitchen-cleaning still awaits.
Thursday, September 03, 2015
Shots of Awe
how have I not discovered this youtube series earlier!
it's basically short snippets of narrative/commentary about anything in the world
-- always philosophical, thoughtful, and artistic.
mr darcy doesn't exist in this world, S
so what do I do, right?
but maybe,
if there's a Mr Collins,
stands to reason...
there may be a Mr Darcy.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Some time back, I read Sybil, The Classic True Story of A Woman Possessed by Sixteen Personalities, by Flora Rheta Schreiber. It was fascinating, and horrific. And completely unforgettable.
“Do you know what it means to have a whole day ahead of you, a day you can call your own?”
Because Sybil would go to sleep on some days, and wake up a week later, two months later, years later, having missed large chunks of her life. And in between, a varied range of personalities took her place instead, living her life for her, and making her decisions for her.
Recent korean dramas have shown a penchant for playing with the theme of mental disorders. Kill Me, Heal Me (starring Ji Sung and Hwang Jung Eum) did the story of an individual with DID (i.e. Dissociative Identity Disorder, better known as Multiple Personality Disorder) just like Sybil, which made the drama a must-watch for me. I felt like it did a fairly good job representing the range of split personalities an individual with DID could possess -- and on top of that made it hilarious:
The one that I'm watching now, Hyde, Jekyll and Me, (starring Hyun Bin as a rich dude with DID) has the same premise but doesn't quite depict the disorder as faithfully. Although! The suffering that goes behind it is a lot more what one would expect with such an individual -- the pain of not being able to control the direction of your life, you know? And hating the parts of you so much that you wish you could kill them, but wouldn't that be suicide?
I've realised there isn't a point to this post (must my posts all have clear purposes? must they be point-y? hm.) -- but just saying I'm loving these stories. And I love it when I can make connections between the things I've read/watched/experienced.
“Do you know what it means to have a whole day ahead of you, a day you can call your own?”
Because Sybil would go to sleep on some days, and wake up a week later, two months later, years later, having missed large chunks of her life. And in between, a varied range of personalities took her place instead, living her life for her, and making her decisions for her.
Recent korean dramas have shown a penchant for playing with the theme of mental disorders. Kill Me, Heal Me (starring Ji Sung and Hwang Jung Eum) did the story of an individual with DID (i.e. Dissociative Identity Disorder, better known as Multiple Personality Disorder) just like Sybil, which made the drama a must-watch for me. I felt like it did a fairly good job representing the range of split personalities an individual with DID could possess -- and on top of that made it hilarious:
Ji Sung did a great job switching between his roles -- so funny. Oh Ri Jin's face everytime he complains about how he isn't pretty enough or needs plastic surgery, haha!
The one that I'm watching now, Hyde, Jekyll and Me, (starring Hyun Bin as a rich dude with DID) has the same premise but doesn't quite depict the disorder as faithfully. Although! The suffering that goes behind it is a lot more what one would expect with such an individual -- the pain of not being able to control the direction of your life, you know? And hating the parts of you so much that you wish you could kill them, but wouldn't that be suicide?
Because it's Hyun Bin though, this drama does feel more romance-centric (Hyun Bin looks better than he ever has, I think, hehe) and a lot more typically what I'd expect from a k-drama:
I've realised there isn't a point to this post (must my posts all have clear purposes? must they be point-y? hm.) -- but just saying I'm loving these stories. And I love it when I can make connections between the things I've read/watched/experienced.
Here's a short documentary clip about Sybil and real multiple personality disorders:
Thursday, August 27, 2015
The song for me right now, I feel --
And in accordance -- I do also feel like I need a haircut!
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is, where your book begins;
The rest is still unwritten
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is, where your book begins;
The rest is still unwritten
(Her songs are all so awesome, seriously.
How could I have not appreciated her work before?)
---
There are some things in life not going so great right now -- but oh man, I am really appreciating work life though. (I keep remembering what K said back in the past when things weren't so great for her and she was like, "At this age, just let me work lah. Thanks.")
I am making great friends with some of my colleagues. Work is not super wonderful or anything; some days, like seriously, I want to scream and roll my eyes and scream again -- my head feels like exploding while I stare at the crazy mess of a calendar that we have for our team -- but the fact that I then leave work and have a great dinner with them and we bitch about things, and talk about bigger things than work, it makes all the difference. It makes it worth it to come in the mornings, knowing that today, hey -- I've got to have her back. And some other days, when I feel like collapsing and making a fit -- we convene in a therapy room at 6PM, and share tears and hysterical laughter, and then at least feel: this crazy place that we work at, this crazy world that we live in, we're not alone.
---
Selawat Mahabbah
(whose meaning I've only started to internalise -- it's so wonderful, and it does encapsulate everything you'd need)
Oh Allah, selawat, salam and blessings upon Sayyidina Muhammad with the amount of Your Love for him.
And increase in us, Oh Allah, the love for him.
And relieve from us whatever that we are in, Ya Rabb, with his love.
And provide us with unveilings, Ya Rabb, with his love.
And provide us with resolute health against whatever that we face, Ya Rabb, with his love.
Love, love, love.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Sunday, August 16, 2015
The goal of classical self-education is this: not merely to "stuff" facts into your head, but to understand them. Incorporate them into your mental framework. Reflect on their meaning for the internal life. The "external things" -- be they Platonic philosophy, the actions of an Austen heroine, or a political biography -- makes us more conscious of our own "reality and shape". This, not mere accumulation, is the goal of self-education. The journal is the place where this learning happens.
So many goals, too little time, limited self-discipline. But I will try hard, I will I will I will, insya Allah!
-- The Well-Educated Mind, Susan Wise Bauer
So many goals, too little time, limited self-discipline. But I will try hard, I will I will I will, insya Allah!
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Selamat Hari Raya!
Raya has been good! Our house is new in many ways, so when we had our guests over, there were tours hehe, and showing off new bathroom tiles and expensive foam mattresses and double-decker beds and 55-inch tv screens.
But above is my favourite corner in the entire house -- painstakingly created by my sis and me, that took hours, I tell you. Hours. It consists of: flowers painstakingly selected over ++rumination, Irada Sticker Art after ++anguish over which to select and regret for not sending over our own ni'al version to be customised, MWPP Marauder's Map (gifted by A and S from HP World in the US), Aroma diffuser (Tulip flavour), tiny pink wall clock with white border, Abah's old wooden shelf, the wooden "breathe" word art J gave me from one of her overseas trips, and our most current reads nicely arranged by order of height. We took so long arranging these items so that it'd look perfect -- seriously, hilarious to recall. We'd put something and then stare at it from a distance to see if it fit perfectly and then alter a miniscule bit and stare again -- repeat x 100. The time you see on the clock is in AM -- that's when we finally got done with this on malam raya. I'm surprised I could still wake up for prayers on raya morning.
I'm so happy with it now. *beams*
Some updates in life -- here they are:
* I have got myself a Kindle -- and it is one of the best things I've ever bought for myself in my entire life, really. How did I take this long to get one of these! It's amazing to have your entire library with you, in your handbag -- and it can also store PDFs, so I can read my journal articles for work and therapy. And it has dictionary functions and a cool paper-like screen surface, that can be adjusted to read in the dark. LOVE IT. This is a book lover's dream -- I thought I would miss the feel of paper, but no. No. No. It has been wonderful.
*I have started actually training others at work -- I couldn't believe it at first. Like wow. I attribute it mainly to the fact that most of my seniors are not interested in language clinics (as opposed to more medically-based clinics like feeding, swallowing and voice) so then it brings the expertise down to my level. We're also going over to mainstream primary schools to share expertise -- the career-driven part of my soul is trying not to burst from over-excitement and jubilation. But Subhanallah, I'm realising it now -- how Allah has put me in the right place despite all that inpatient nightmare. I've always wanted the mainstream school thing -- always, since back in my NUS days. Subhanallah, this is another example of how I should always trust God. Thank You, thank You, I love You.
*Match-making has entered my life in full-force. I am not even joking (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating). But -- ohmygod. What is with all this! Just -- God, I want to get out of all this crazy. Just -- let me marry someone who loves You, who loves me, and who I love. End.
*I have made some great and true friends at work -- and boy, does it make a whole load of difference. (:
Saturday, July 04, 2015
The family traipsed over to Swensens at the airport for sahur (i.e. our pre-dawn meal) at 3 am this morning.
Of course, I'm blamed as the instigator who woke everyone at 2.30 am -- but didn't we have a good time! :P heeeee. I love that my family does unconventional, spontaneous things like this.
This Ramadhan overall has been lovely for me so far. It really has. I haven't been superb with the worship, but I feel like I'm concertedly working to improve some little things. It's the small but consistent increments that pave the way to greater things, right? Insya Allah.
I pray that my heart stays peaceful and trusting the rest of this month and beyond, through whatever uncertainties this world presents.
Of course, I'm blamed as the instigator who woke everyone at 2.30 am -- but didn't we have a good time! :P heeeee. I love that my family does unconventional, spontaneous things like this.
This Ramadhan overall has been lovely for me so far. It really has. I haven't been superb with the worship, but I feel like I'm concertedly working to improve some little things. It's the small but consistent increments that pave the way to greater things, right? Insya Allah.
I pray that my heart stays peaceful and trusting the rest of this month and beyond, through whatever uncertainties this world presents.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Ramadhan is zipping by -- do you feel it? Everyone keeps saying how fast it's going, and before we know it, Syawal will be here and this precious time is over.
Going through mentally and emotionally stressful situations right now. Alhamdulillah that it's Ramadhan so that it takes away some of the anxiety. Really, if only every month was like this one.
Ya Muqqalibal qulub, keep my heart firm on Your deen, and in obedience of you, and in the love of Your Prophet s.a.w.. Ya Muqqalibal qulub, incline my heart toward your decree. Let me trust wholeheartedly that You will take care of all my affairs better than I could ever imagine, Amin.
On a side note -- been attending really awesome classes on my weekends, and something that Ust. F said has been scarily ringing in my head: if you have been learning and gaining knowledge, but it does not manifest itself in real-life improvements in you -- then know that Allah is distancing himself from you. In other words, if you gain knowledge, but do nothing to apply it -- you're in deep trouble.
GASP. My sis and me looked at each other and we were like -- O.O omg SCARY KOWAI. We will strive hard, okay? Insya Allah!
Going through mentally and emotionally stressful situations right now. Alhamdulillah that it's Ramadhan so that it takes away some of the anxiety. Really, if only every month was like this one.
Ya Muqqalibal qulub, keep my heart firm on Your deen, and in obedience of you, and in the love of Your Prophet s.a.w.. Ya Muqqalibal qulub, incline my heart toward your decree. Let me trust wholeheartedly that You will take care of all my affairs better than I could ever imagine, Amin.
On a side note -- been attending really awesome classes on my weekends, and something that Ust. F said has been scarily ringing in my head: if you have been learning and gaining knowledge, but it does not manifest itself in real-life improvements in you -- then know that Allah is distancing himself from you. In other words, if you gain knowledge, but do nothing to apply it -- you're in deep trouble.
GASP. My sis and me looked at each other and we were like -- O.O omg SCARY KOWAI. We will strive hard, okay? Insya Allah!
Friday, June 12, 2015
It's been a while!
June 2015 shall go down as possibly one of the busiest I've ever been in my working life. As teachers start enjoying their holidays, therapists start to go nuts with the workload -- because holidays mean... extra therapy time! Ugggg. I am running group therapy almost every day, it is exhausting. On the upside, my work units (i.e. a measure of productivity -- IKR, eee, systems) are through the roof this month. It should pull my appraisal up for the next financial year.
Outside talk of work -- it is a week to Ramadhan! And I am sort of feeling panic settling in at the back of my mind because I am tired and lethargic every time I get home, and I don't want to clean -- but our house is still not clean. Specifically our bedroom is still way far from the dream room we've been planning. And I am just... tired. And not sleeping well.
ohgod, I should just sleep. Ramadhan is comingggg, terawihhhh.
But before I do (because I've taken to watching loads of John Oliver these days) -- you've got to see this; something hilarious, and maybe really should be done in Singapore too, because how can we be apathetic about politics and governance with such crazy, cutesy things representing the important things of our nation? Then I won't keep mixing up MFA, MSF and MICA all the time -- acronyms are the worst. They actually might be a real ploy to prevent us from really caring about what these ministries are doing, ahah.
June 2015 shall go down as possibly one of the busiest I've ever been in my working life. As teachers start enjoying their holidays, therapists start to go nuts with the workload -- because holidays mean... extra therapy time! Ugggg. I am running group therapy almost every day, it is exhausting. On the upside, my work units (i.e. a measure of productivity -- IKR, eee, systems) are through the roof this month. It should pull my appraisal up for the next financial year.
Outside talk of work -- it is a week to Ramadhan! And I am sort of feeling panic settling in at the back of my mind because I am tired and lethargic every time I get home, and I don't want to clean -- but our house is still not clean. Specifically our bedroom is still way far from the dream room we've been planning. And I am just... tired. And not sleeping well.
ohgod, I should just sleep. Ramadhan is comingggg, terawihhhh.
But before I do (because I've taken to watching loads of John Oliver these days) -- you've got to see this; something hilarious, and maybe really should be done in Singapore too, because how can we be apathetic about politics and governance with such crazy, cutesy things representing the important things of our nation? Then I won't keep mixing up MFA, MSF and MICA all the time -- acronyms are the worst. They actually might be a real ploy to prevent us from really caring about what these ministries are doing, ahah.
ok good night! Friday is here!