+me, again+

Sometimes, it takes just a word to jolt me into life again.
An 85 yr old  healthy man till diagnosed suddenly with end stage cancer. It is his refusal to cry that made me suck back in the air that almost came to grieve.
Patellar-femoral pain syndrome, grips me enough to tell me to stop. Stop running- literally, metaphorically.
Flat feet on my soles. I need insoles now, physiotherapy. I need long term supplements. Wear and tear at 25, I had thought of scaling more. I need to see the Dr for follow up. Realised I am not perfect.
I putting braces.
Was i so bend on perfection?
Still excited about braces despite all those pain.
A new me.
Perhaps, it jus about me.
Fussing abut me keeps me accompany.
its self improvement, joy
perhaps, and at times,
its plain- aloneness.

but, a new “me”
I want to be!

oh, the blues of room
Speaking of a place.
Welcome back,
Out of my maze
where so full of lack,
so much I have to say,
to keep it at bay
the sore and pain.
Remember the days,
i run in faint,
with someone, a fren
How long then
through lost and trend,
the lonely it gets.
A lone soul in the rough
I live through to be tough.
So, Welcome back.
Liven up the stack
of maze and muses.
that someone
hears.

+My Dream +

For all its nobility, its gloriest name wrapped in crown of victory, trailing behind its success stories.

Dreams, sparkle up the soul in the eyes.

Liven up the weary spirit.

Mind against body. Will over the flesh. Even when the odds stake high, walled up.

I know it exists, the chances of it surviving slim as it is, it takes an out-of-norm tenacity to sustain it.

My dream, it made me sweat, lose sleep, tear, ache and cry.

For my childhood dream to run my fingers

so free, relishing, flowingly, gracefully..

on the contrasting black and white.

I am living

.. to dream to play the piano..

WELL!

Till now, even though I oftne see sick pple is bed, the scariest sight is still seeing loved ones battered by age.
The way, they succumb to withering of their bodies, so vulnerable, shrunken up, and dependent, yet that an old familiar face, had grew up with me.
It is jus a period of time that is passing, after all, they are only in the fifties. still young. it freaks me still to think of the future.
Keep it at bay!

I went to the airport twice in 2 weeks. once in every 7 days. I like the coldness in the silent, my face against the cool pane of glass. I watched the planes glide into the air, and fade into the dark sky. The last time, I was there alone was in sec school, the day, I wanted to be so alone, to hide and cry. A lowest point in my schooling life.
This is the second time I am there, alone again.

Read some verses which made me scream.
“How long more must I wait?
How long more must my heart be sorrowful?
How long more will u forsake me?”

Met an impressionable lady. She 51, the same age as my mother. Told me how lucky she will be if she has a daughter the same age as me. She shared her life to me, 2 broken relationships, 7 yrs each. Both of them only stumble her faiith. Now 20 yrs alone, she still prays that God will give her another chance on love. I marvelled.

Sundays, which to be my favourite day, became my saddest day. The sting is still there at times. Why does it still hurts? Certain things are not meant to be started. Guard the heart.

Ran to the beach last mon. Saw a father playing with a kid on the sand. Gigglish frolick, rolling around the sand. The dad took off to spend time alone with the kid. undivided attention, Devoted time. Aloneness on earth, sitting on my Father’s lap. Made me smile at the golden sun rays, my hair russled, my heart tingled. For so long, i;ve not felt this way. He was so close.

Sunday today, I cried buckets again. so weak. this is not me. I want to change, I want back my own. Where’s that rebound. I will still keep faith, not becos I am deceiving myself, but it is the only sound thing still to do, Allow my saviour to redeem me again!

Still cant sleep!!

Surf aimlessly on line…. 5 more hrs to work!!

hmmm…. today, my piano teacher was really harsh with me. My heart jus could practise recently. Cant play anything right. thinking of forgoing this yr exams if things doesnt improve. And, out of frustration, I gave my teacher attitude!!!

Many things in my head- too many, sometimes I wonder if they all stamped from a low-moraled heart. There are things to do, but it seems more essentially that it is the will that is weak.

On top of my Dad’s op, I have :

1) Readings to do for my distance studying.. ( i have not even flip the cover of my 4 inch file of notes)

2) Assignment due on the 30th April.

3) 2 competency checklist to complete for my venipuncture and cannulation.

4) Piano exam- not started practiising scales.

….. how cant I sleep??!?!?!………….

+Dance without legs+

2nd day of my course… I’m one of the few who passed my test real early so I have time for myself again!! What a heaven, an unofficial 2 days break from work just to slack in the hospital!!

Anyway, I am back to “lomo-ing” in this little muse garden  of mine again!!

Wonderful place to write and prose my thoughts and feelings unguarded and creative.  The feeling of being yourself; free and unrestricted is priceless!! A cosy, comfortable quintessense of self! My muse indeed. Though I am somewhat intrigued by the statistics of visitors at this quiet place of mine., it doesnt bother me.  Somehow I feel safe here, at least right now….

Last sat, just before my disappointed encounter with Mr Regret, I saw a long time friend of my parents. She is a polio victim who is confined to wheelchair and as if mishap has not had enough of her, her husband divorced her and took custody of her two kids. I saw her full of grace in her two wheels, fingers poised and body arched forward like a elegant swan dancing with the melody of the worship music. The cap that hid her face failed to conceal every bit of contentment and gladness she radiate as she sang and wheeled herself in the beat of the worship music. Paralysed she was, but her spirit of freedom, stoicity and gratitude was far more alive, more joyful and exuberant than anyone else I’ve ever seen.

As I watched her, thoughts of my Dad’s  infliction of his cord compression swarmed into me.  Will he ever be as joyful, contented and grateful as this old friend of his? Will he also realised this matchless bound of peace, love and life?

I cant help tearing. i saw behind those two lifeless legs  an ultimate reason of living- a uncontained and inexplicable cause of joy.

How I wish so many would have seen it!

I am on course again… and it is so slack that I had time to seelp, 1 hr lunch and to surf!!

Came across this wonderful photo blog!!

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/12/the_year_2008_in_photographs_p.html

+cant sleep!!+

Losing sleep for 2 days straight.

A roller coaster in my head, a million scenes replaying, tons of feelings surging!!

I got to work tomorrow, in jus a few hrs time.

This week, I am helding on to prayers…

For my Dad’s op,

for a personal breakthrough…

my God never fails!! He is bigger that anything else!!!

+ reGrets+

It was one these nights again.

The haunted chills send tossing body and wet tears.

To mitigate the burning spikes. I thought of my old thrill- an excitment that once blew hopes of unspeakable joy.

Today, I saw him. At the end of the sat night service, with one hand on his mobile, glanced at me, and then walked off. I was left, yet again, in the dark scene of his recediing figure as the dim lights cast fading shadows of his leaving.

Should I have  know him more… I always wonder if I will be left with more regrets or relief in the knowing of his personality. His appearance in my life started from a long night cycle years back. I remembered that he was the leader of the pack, a group of rascals racing down the expressway in the wee hours of the morning. That was my first night cycle. It was first time, the stench of thrill mixed in the weird, inexplicable aroma of danger and excitment clouded me. As juveniles sneaking out in the night, 16 of us followed this chap along the expressway, down the steep slopes of Mt Faber, in the busy street of Geylang. Have this sense of danger subtly bud off my feminine dignity in its masculinity?

Nothing much build on from that night onwards, having belonged to a big church, my chances were never on my side to get to know this chap well enough. Many times, we had short conversations, but it often ended as it has never started, leaving me more tantalizing. Years has passed, my image of him remain stagnant in the night when we raced down the night streets, the speeding through the cryptic night air, leading yet to another eternal mystic. 

Though he still lurks somewhere in the corner of my life; behind the drum sets of my sunday worship, random conversations with nothingness in theme, I think I always saw his back figure, receding frm me, fading in distance, back into my early memories. And I’ve heard from somewhere, he already had better interests.

So, with regret, I write to remember this person, in ashes and dusts, in hopes and sorrow, that he is someone in my life, so close yet never meant to be.

I think to forget is relative. It is just how much that impression will change its worth in  the heart.

We’ll see.. till I met someone who sweep me off again.

Regrets!

thought of a place to go..

somewhere safe and sound

a reality of old;

of impish laughter

deep yet cold.

I thought of the place to go.

Went and yet,

Vent it was.

Forgotten the place,

where now it turns wet,

and avoid it seems.

I thought of the place to go.

But I have forgotten the flow.

it needed a password.

Once at the gracious tips of my fingers,

now the sound it so foreign,

I couldnt remember.

I thought of the place to go.

Run..

run….

and run!!