Monday, January 31, 2005
hong blogged about fantasies and i can't remember what. fantasies are lovely to believe in. sentimental to read, and breathtaking to gush about to friends, and often we blind ourselves to the truth that presents itself in every perfection. that archilles heel, so tragic a flaw.
it's like how my friend would say, "from far see damn chio, from near near see until can peng"
argh whatever. i've lost the sudden urge to continue writing although i have tons more to expound on.
on another note, V day is coming. and i must admit i was terror stricken at the prospect, and had the jitter bugs tossing around in bed. being under severe duress, and after several chipped nails later, i condescended with an sms; with an invitation to a date. mind you i've never done this thing before, i never believe i should initiate such things. courtship has become.. oh no no.. i beg your pardon.. courtship IS a ritualistic passage in which the girl's only prerogative is to answer and not to propose.
apparently i have done the unpardonable act. this is your cue to GASP.
so sue me. i don't want to be the last one standing if you please. it's a self preservation thing.
Joyce Lim unzipped at 8:58 PM with 2 comments
Monday, January 24, 2005
not that i have first hand experience, but i've seen photos. and they say a picture says a thousand words, does it not.
Joyce Lim unzipped at 9:45 PM with 6 comments
Friday, January 21, 2005
but all we do is question, some leave even before the door behind the secrets are even revealed, others hasten away after discovering the horrifying truth about themselves, about ourselves. and so we tell others "Let sleeping dogs lie", indeed, let them rest in their kennels till night enshrouds us all in her deep swaddling cloth. the day is safer, the night; piercing.
mankind is a pathetic species. we seek companionship and that elusive "Love" that only the erudites claim as their own. how can one be a living testimony to Love's prowess unless he/she understands it; and to understand it, he/she must be so refinely aesthetically cultivated in the works of Shakespeare, deep love poetry, to the fine extent of finally experiencing the love our celebrated poets eulogise of. au courant must we be, these heartlanders, those buzzing mindless mob of hawkers beggars and iraqis, pish.. what do they know about love, some mock mindlessly. leave it to us. the au courant. the gallant, tasteful delicate us.
think you we're the only ones who form societies? no, we're imitators. shameful, high-minded, holier than thou creatures who merely copied from the earlier creations of life. the bees, bats, dolphins, lions, ants. think you we're original? look no further then. trails of blurred light tracing the endless highways and byways of our metropolitan earth. like busy little... what's the word?... Bees. we are the great pretenders of our time, and like a meandering snake, our unopened secrets, our cherished but unanwered questions, or even our answers, coil like a sleeping serpent, snaking itself into the very pits of our hearts. till we find that we can unwrap and hide no more and disintegrate into piles of doddering fools.
and there is no where to hide. Rushdie says so too. where can you hide from yourself? those dark secrets you loathe to the very guts of hell, those endless questions, those flaws that people fail to recognise, or don't bother to enunciate for the benefit of both parties.
and again i feel the angel of lettering slipping away from me and i should end here. i should. but on a lighter note, today is a lovely day. the clouds swarm together like.. what's the word again?... bees. like a swarm of bees. don't you just feel like the old adage isn't true? that mankind rises and falls but the surroundings remain entrenched? watching the trees carrying their heavy burden, the clouds drifting by and then coming back one 360 degrees turn later, you feel like your the one whose literally watching the earth roll by.
i have the curtains stripped away and my little pod-like box, suspended from heaven feels nakedlybare. two sides of square walls, two sides of square windows encircling me. if you've ever been to my room, you'd understand the suspension i feel in midair, a square box that's been tied to heaven, that swings like a swing when the wind blows, and me in my little square naked box is typing away petulantly, diligently, hardworkingly.
Nice.
a dash of jazz, the clear windows with no curtains to opaque the sunlight, and i imagine i'm out there on the dusty road with nothing but endless fields, and one endless road stretched in front to meet the horizon when sun sets. and i'm waiting for a kind driver to drive past and pick this little hitchhiker up, and with the windows scrolled down, we'll drive in that lonely landscape with the hot red wind in our hair, the scorching dust that follows us every mile of the way, and that sweltering sweltering heat of the sun to honey our eyes, lids, speech and motion. Joyce Lim unzipped at 2:44 PM with 1 comments
Friday, January 14, 2005
so ta..
a few days, a few weeks, a few months.
who knows.
Joyce Lim unzipped at 7:18 PM with 1 comments
Sunday, January 09, 2005
all i need now is patience, and the sweet remembrance of Him every morning and every night. sweet sweet love. i need reminders everyday that there is no need to rush, to set my heart right, to go, speak, be silent, and learn for all the right reasons. This year, things are going to change. New Year resolutions, they come and go, would i keep all of them, the answer is probably No. But there's just one that really matters, and then goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life.
Joyce Lim unzipped at 2:30 PM with 199 comments
Monday, January 03, 2005
my new shoes didn't fall apart, (thankfully), i seem to be a natural at getting my footwear horribly mangled in the oddest and most awkward of places but nonetheless i had my share of blisters. why Thankyou Blister Goddess, you have been most kind today, i think i've collected tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after the day after tomorrow's share of blisters, maybe you could turn your kindest attention somewhere else because i just feel too loved already.. awwww.
i was talking to andrew the other day about jazz and i made a mental note to blog about the subtlety and richness of their lyrics but today's Life section got a headstart, so i shall just borrow Renee Olstead's quote abt how pop music is just about "oh baby baby". Jazz is so much more. ok this is sounding like a advertisement, change topic.
i'm never one to thank pple on my blog but here goes. to Joshua Lau, if you see this. that present was the best present i had this christmas, it came at a time which was mired by idle chatter and mature christian skepticism. so yes, God's will be done not mine. and though i still don't understand fully "It's Not About Me", i shall strive to finish that book and start a new beginning of equipping and loving and training and humility and most importantly, of a contrite and melted heart that allows Him to mould and fashion into his very likeness. God hears my frustrations and doubting thomases, so at least this clears one skepticism of mine, that He does hear.
and to end this entry with a pledge to begin something afresh, i shall tell my God that i'm sorry, sorry for the things that made it, when it's all about You. Joyce Lim unzipped at 11:26 PM with 1 comments