hilm = the ability to not let your buttons get pushed


*zen* God, help me be a better person.

Now be silent.
Let the One who creates the words speak.
He made the door.
He made the lock.
He also made the key.

- Rumi

I typically have phases when I feel like I really, really, really, really, really, just want to be alone,
and escape to a mountain somewhere, away from other human beings.

But then thankfully E manages to make me feel less like an alien, 

(cause maybe she's a fellow alien, hoho)

and I have a good laugh instead.

Hmmm

I'm listening to something now, and I am reminded: heaven is surrounded with difficult things while hell is surrounded by attractive things.

😔  ganbatte, let's work hard and endure!

spoilers! for Peaky Blinders Season 3



I don't know that it's right; it probably isn't -- but what I end up doing when pain, existential pain, heartaches, beset me, is to eventually return to stories; and I typically feel at least a little restored. I am well-aware I should probably do a page of the Qura'an perhaps, do some zikr or remembrance of God; and at some instances, I think I unconsciously do. But it is through stories and then when I write here in reflection of those stories, that I feel nicely-purged of whatever emotional poison I feel sits somewhere in my chest.

It is stories that show us that our pains are not unique, that life gets to the best of people -- in fact, the worst of life gets to the best of people, it appears at times. That great character builds with pain and difficult crossroads, and that though some or most of these characters are fiction, it's perhaps not impossible that you could aspire to some similar level of greatness, that maybe you don't have to be hopeless, that the minute level of pain you encounter in life can be overcome so that you can be someone worthy of your own love and admiration.

The older I get, the more I've come to appreciate art in its varied forms; yes, still as entertainment, but more, as an expression of all of life's subtle or not-so-subtle difficulties and accompanying beauty.


I'm not sure how I segued into that, but I was appreciating this wonderful actor, who is making me keep watching Peaky Blinders although the Season 3 plot has lost its pull on me a little. Not to mention that an important character dies, and an-already-damaged Tommy Shelby does not need that lah, come on... haha. Can't we have some fairytale in fiction, please. I mean, seriously, if Philippa had died, can you imagine what would have happened to Lymond? I don't even want to imagine the pain he would feel, on top of the fact that he would probably blame himself for it.

But to get back: kudos to Cillian Murphy who plays Tommy Shelby so plausibly and convincingly, 

I am still buying him as my damaged hero/protagonist. True artists are to be appreciated.

Isn't it the truth that actually,
one person makes all the difference to your world?

and you realise they were put there for you.
I am grateful to You.

Back in SG and missing Nihon and the company a whole lot 💜💜💜

I'm sitting at Burger Up at the moment, whiling some time before my next therapy session -- I should probably use this time productively -- but I can't yet; withdrawal symptoms and all. I'm still in holiday mood and cannot bring myself to trudge through work.

Instead, I'm reorganizing my photos for FB -- stupid album function that makes ordering the photos a nightmare; all the photos are messed up right now so I can't tell our story in any proper chronological manner, and that's important to me. So now, I'm painstakingly numbering the photos in my computer folder to see if it helps and I'll reupload it all later.

Stories are important! Stories give context, and meaning, and depth and attachment to pictures. Even the prettiest pictures mean less without the proper context.

For instance, this here, is one of my favourites, 

because we were chilling after lunch

along Lake Kawaguchi. 

We had all the time till our bus ride at 7+pm 

and we sat down telling ghost stories.

Time flew by until it got dark 

and we had to trek back to Kawaguchiko station.

There was friction here and there among us throughout the trip

(mainly between my stubborn brother and my equally-stubborn self)

but most of the time, we cracked each other up a lot of the time

and I had such an enjoyable getaway.

The unbelievably lame jokes from A and S every other hour;

the laughing over our cluelessness;

our Taboo and Heads-Up games while queueing for rides or at night in our ryokan;

the playing and cheering each other on at arcades,

screaming whenever one of the boys managed to win a plushy.

I felt like we were all still young kids like we were years and years ago,

traveling together.

Our long-awaited cousin trip to Japan starts this evening!
I'm finally starting to feel the excitement creep in
cause I finally got done with admin work.

yayyyys, Japan, how I have missed you!

here are some cute Japan-related drawings 

from Florence Chavouet's graphic books 

(I totally adore them!)

yes, life doesn't have to be so hard, S, if you just let God, right.

ittekimasu, guys, I'm going to disappear for a while (:

Cute moment from today!:

I was doing a formal speech assessment with one of my little girls,
and as is typical, we have picture stimuli to elicit words from our kids.


Me: The boy gave the girl some flowers, what should she say?

Kid: I love you

I burst out laughing.

Me: No, no, no, before that, before that! 

Kid: Hehehehe


She had no clue 😆  -- the kid has bad speech and language delay, seriously, I'm appalled; how you gonna go Primary 1 in a few months, girl! But she's got romance down pat.