And so I left my job today…feeling like it wasnt time for me to leave yet.
What do I want, seriously?
Fickle fickle.
Category Archives: #dailies
Transitions
This Thursday marks the last day of my work…and the smooth transition into the life of tutoring. As of now I currently have enough assignments to see me through each month with a lot of moolah in excess, and am so excited because I really missed having some sort of challenge in my life.
And I have decided that if the NUS letter still refuses to come by the end of this week, I am going to log in and pick NTU. I think even if the letter comes, my choice will still remain. I am terrified sometimes at the thought of embarking on a whole new course. But this is me – and I choose not to settle for the predictable.
Speaking of which, there’s one other thing I am a wee bit excited for: it’s the grad night dinner next Friday. I have gotten my dress and accessories ready and am all set to go – except I can’t decide if I should do my hair by myself or get someone else to do it for me, in case it becomes one of those hair disasters I had encounters with so many times before.
Ah, I have been wanting a pair of heels so much……it doesn’t even make sense. I should just go ahead and get myself a pair of converse classics since they are versatile and won’t trip me when I walk.
I will miss all of my colleagues here; they are so fun to be around with. :’)
Dreams
I saw all the things I wanted to be, but can never become.
I always believed fervently in this notion that we are who we pretend to be, that if you pretend hard enough you will turn into or evolve into this ideal self.
But I am who I am, as real as I can be.
So what do I do now?
What if I end up being a letdown in university just because that’s just not who I am?
I feel like such a fraud.
in·cre·du·li·ty
That night, on my way home after work, I was feeling so lost and desperate that I cried out to God to just save me already. If you heard the prayer that went through my mind, it would probably sound something like a helpless cry: “WILL YOU JUST LET ME STOP MOPING AROUND IN MY LIFE ALREADY AND COME AND GET ME.”
And then it became a plea: “please Father, please.”
And then I surrendered: “Take my life and let it be”
Well, He must have heard me.
The next morning, he opened a few doors for me. Even the doors that I didn’t knock on…
Take my life, and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee.Take my voice, and let me sing always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use every power as Thou shalt choose.Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.- Frances Ridley Havergal
Not talking
I haven’t realised that I haven’t been talking for the longest time. I have given up on having fruitful, intelligent conversations and have settled for silence. It is so exhausting to talk. So exhausting to listen. Silence is indeed golden…and sometimes it’s better to not say a word. For someone who really has no self-control over babbling about my life’s biggest events to anyone I talk to, this has been a huge break. I am glad to be in this state but at the same time, I know why I have been silent all these while. Not only that, I have also been experiencing another wave of the writer’s block ever since school ended. To be honest, I am pretty disoriented with life right now. It’s been a long while since I have faced rejection squarely in the face…and it came too quick and struck me deftly when my guard was down. I am not even sure if I am going to accomplish anything anymore. And as it is with good luck (though I hardly believe in luck since I believe God controls the course of my life), when you get one rejection, a whole string of it follows.
I am tired of holding the fort. And no, I don’t want to talk about it – or things. I am fine and dandy with being silent and quiet. Now all I have to do is be calm and still (Psalm 46:10).
Which is an incredibly tough feat.
God please please please save me.
Damn it
I have a problem with being overly anxious. It is this same spirit that has caused me to fail my math exams year after year with a consistent F9. It is also this same anxiousness that has caused me to fail tests, interviews and etc. When I am practicing math I always get the answers correct. When I am in an exam it goes down hill. Same with what happened today.
Am so sick of being so freaking nervous all the time. WHAT IS THERE TO BE NERVOUS ABOUT, STUPID. I am so bloody angry with myself. The amount I have already spent on mastering this skill can already buy me a Prada. It’s enough.
Now I have to wait another two months before I can try again. What is with me and these tests that make me so jittery that everything I learn just goes out of the window?
The person who created tests/exams ought to be shot. Who says you don’t have knowledge about something just because you FAILED THE TEST?! A test/exam/interview is not an accurate measurement of someone’s intellect/skills.
I AM DONE HERE.
Dreams
“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone
Melbourne in June
Really hoping I get to go and things do work out eventually.
As for now, am really tired and have to hit the hay. Went to see Wicked today with Sam; it was good, but overhyped I guess.
My good Friday was really good. It’s too bad I can’t go for easter Sunday. Well its high time I stop being self-absorbed and spare a thought for my family.
I wonder what’s worse: Not having enough money or not having to get to buy whatever I want, when I want it.
I guess both are equally bad – and can coexist.
405
6 more days to a year since I set foot there.
Still feels like yesterday.
At times I fall asleep and wake up in the middle of the night with a startle while my room is still dark and cold and dry, and I’d pretend the hum of the air con doesn’t exist. It would usually be cold without flipping on the switch to it in my apartment on Kelton Ave. It was the 12 degrees cold that would chew me at the toes. During the few seconds before my eyes get accustomed to seeing the vague outlines and silhouettes of the furniture in my crammed room in the dark, I would pretend I was still in the white room with a white bed with white sheets against the white wall. I would sit by the edge of my bed for a moment and my feet would hover slightly above the floor, refusing to land itself. Carpet, not square tiles; fuzzy and soft, not cold and hard and unfeeling.
More often than not I retract my feet and tuck them in, under the comfort of my duvet, refusing to break the illusion.
I shut my eyes to the world and fall back asleep before I can make out where I am in the dark.
Sometimes I wonder what would it be like to go through all of my life missing the life I had there.
Growing up is no longer growing up
There’s something odd about being 20 and looking across to the other side of the train carriage, only to find a thirteen year old who dresses like you do. So is she over dressing? Or am I dressing too young for my age?
不认老也不行！！！！
Time really flies.
The only consolation is that…
She has the body of a banana/apple and you probably have yours somewhere in between a pear and hourglass.
So here’s a poem for all ya oldies like me:
