rhoda. 23. nus. dgms. choir. sing(:


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Template by Elle and this is her blog.
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i don't really know what i want. haha.

anyway, mug hard people!(:

count your blessings.
every single one that God has blessed you with.
and thank Him for each and every one.
and you'll know just how much He loves you.
you five aren't my blessings you know.

i'm not going to care anymore. you can't make me.

i'm just so tired.

i don't want to think anymore.

i'll leave the speculating to you.

goodbye.goodnight.

if you don't know me, don't pretend that you do.

i guess i'm just finicky about such things and i do so dislike it when people think i'm something that i'm not. it's so irritating. who are you to know what my life is, you whose life is all stable and nice and full of fluff? don't go and give me that face and try to tell me that i don't know what suffering is. you don't know what i'm going through and stop trying to act like you know me through and through. just go away. i've no time to deal with airheads like you who think they've seen the world when all they've gone through is a meagre slice of life.

shoo.



oh i just love the detailing on this skirt.



and this necklace is so pretty



and so is this one.

haha. so random.

Christian Alphabet Poem

Although things are not perfect
Because of trial or pain
Continue in thanksgiving
Do not begin to blame
Even when the times are hard
Fierce winds are bound to blow
God is forever able
Hold on to what you know
Imagine life without His love
Joy would cease to be
Keep thanking Him for all the things
Love imparts to thee
Move out of "Camp Complaining"
No weapon that is known
On earth can yield the power
Praise can do alone
Quit looking at the future
Redeem the time at hand
Start every day with worship
To "thank" is a command
Until we see Him coming
Victorious in the sky
We'll run the race with gratitude
X-alting God most high
Yes, there will be good times and yes some will be bad, but...
Zion waits in glory... where none are ever sad!

haha. got that from my sister's blog. how true!



how do you manage to bear the silence?
i don't hate silences in general but this silence is suffocating.
or maybe only for me.
stop trying to act docile and innocent. rahh.



turn the light off and leave me in complete darkness

tear the chrysalis away,
it's not worth shedding tears over.
it's just a vessel, a tool to be discarded once used.

a painting on completion
is meant to be framed up and displayed,
not rolled up and put away.
either way, just start mixing your paints again.
a fresh canvas is waiting

A-shi-ra la-do-nai ki ga-oh ga-ah
A-shi-ra la-do-nai ki ga-oh ga-ah
Mi-cha-mo-cha ba-elim adonai
Mi-ka-mo-cha ne-dar- ba-ko-desh
Na-chi-tah v¡¯-chas-d¡¯-cha am zu ga-al-ta
Na-chi-tah v¡¯-chas-d¡¯-cha am zu ga-al-ta
A-shi-ra, a-shi-ra, a-shi-ra!

simple faith just goes a long way.(:

smile at the little things in life
and you're realise everything isn't really that bad.

i'm not going to waste my time frowning anymore
besides, i don't like wrinkles. gahh
go away shoo.

it's useless to fight against time.
it yellows, bleaches and fades
till you realise that the product of time is totally different from the original.
simulacra!
is A' still the same person as A?

haha. first time this year that i actually listened during philo. lol. i should pay more attention during class. and stop falling asleep. i sleep too much for my own good.
i think.

i want more almond pralines! but no marzipan please, i can't stand marzipan. and no, don't ask me to sit on it.



time bleaches everything till all that's left is black and white

talked to faith on the phone for one hour plus. haha. i'm reliving the days of sec 1 and 2 where i'm on the phone for hours on end. i miss those days. when i would talk to faith, jinghuan, hua xin, mayfong, sherry, may, jean about anything under the sun. the outpouring of joys and worries. the sharing of burdens. the bonding together. i love all of you girls. you all rock my world. absolutely.

touch the sky for me
it's too high for me to attain
but i know you can
when you touch it,
throw a wisp of cloud down
and shout out to the whole world that
you have accomplished this feat
and we can all eat pickled olives
and pretend that we're genuinely happy for you.
we might or might not be.
the main reason of the party being the pickled olives anyway.

The Blind Bus Passenger

The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was empty. Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg.

It had been a year since Susan, thirty-four, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis , she had been rendered sightless, and was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. Once a fiercely independent woman, Susan now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless and helpless burden on everyone around her.

"How could this have happened to me?" she would plead, her heart knotted with anger. But no matter how much she cried, protested, ranted or prayed, she knew the painful truth that?her sight was never going to return. A cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic spirit. Just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. And all she had to cling to was her husband Mark.

Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all of his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife regain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.

Mark's military background had trained him well to deal with such sensitive situations, and yet he knew this was the most difficult battle he would ever face.

Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to and from work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city.

At first, this comforted Susan and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however, Mark realized that this arrangement wasn't working, it was hectic and costly.

"Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again", he admitted to himself, but just the thought of mentioning it to her made him cringe. She was still so fragile and so angry. "How would she react?", he admitted to himself again.

Just as Mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "I'm blind!" she responded bitterly "How am I supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you're abandoning me".

Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened.

For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, how to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment.

He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. He made her laugh, even on those not-so-good days when she would trip exiting the bus, or drop her briefcase. Each morning they made the journey together, and Mark would take a cab back to his office.

Although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the previous one, Mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan would be able to ride the bus on her own. He believed in her, he used to know, before she had lost her sight,that she wasn't afraid of any challenge and would never, ever quit.

Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his sincerity, his patience and his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it and she was going to work all by herself.

On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said "Boy, I sure envy you" Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year.

Curiously, she asked him "Why do you say that you envy me?" The driver responded "It must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are". Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, she asked him again "What do you mean?". The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you when you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady" .

Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was fortunate, so fortunate, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe, the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness . You don't love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because you love her.

God watches over us in just the same way. We may not know His presence,andwe may not be able to see His blessed face, but He is there nonetheless! Be blessed in this thought: "God loves you even when you are not looking...or think that He isn't looking."
i'll watch out for you too

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to good manners and elegance. In love, you feel the most alive when your partner is patient and never willing to give up on you. You'd like to your lover to think you are optimistic and happy. You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as commitment. Love only works when both people are totally devoted.

Tag me if you wish and:
1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll challenge you to try something.
3. I'll pick a colour that I associate with you.
4. I'll tell you something I like about you.
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory about you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something I've always wanted to ask you.
8. You must post this on yours.

Stupid jean! now i must do this boliao thing. gahh.

jean
1. your ponytail last year was very nice to hit. hehheh.
2. no using nicknames for a week! haha.
3. green. practically everything about you was green!
4. your never-ending spastic songs! i feel pre-ety!!!
5. that time in kindergaten when you teased me about my specs. haha.
6. hamster. cause of the 'niam niam' sounds u will make for no reason. hahaha.
7. did u like jug before jmt?

and as rhoda is a perfectly sane girl, she shall not follow jean's example and tag every single person who tagged at her tagboard. haha. i'm not as boliao as you! hee.

i want to go to the grave where the fireflies lie. i'll lay a single tulip there and erect a wooden board beside it. and i'll capture the firefly in flight in oils on the board. a sprinkling of golden dust would do nicely too. that's what i will do. if only the grave still exists.

some things are better left undone. memories, better untouched. trying to reclaim times gone past will only serve to destroy all scrap of memory of it and utterly ruin your chances of ever being there again.

yet, how do you ever achieve anything if you don't take action?

still, i prefer inaction. i'm just like that. i'll go stand in the rain now. maybe i'll wake up then.

i'm wishing for my dreams to come true. i'm wishing so hard that my heart aches. so much so that i just wish that i never did start wishing at all. dreams slip through your fingers time and time again. it's like trying to hold water. just when you thought you've got your hands in the right position, it all flows out. and you're left with nothing once again.

there's no bubble to pop. there never was one. so even if you feel like popping one, you're at the wrong doorway. i don't blow bubbles. they're so fragile that i could cry. i don't like the thought of creating something so beautiful that i can't protect. of something that will only be broken in the end

i want the wind to blow right through me, tearing through me. i want it to remove the ache that has formed unknowingly from my grasping of wind. i want it to tear my grip away from the narrow tree trunk that i am clutching to. i don't want to touch the point where the sun's rays meet the tip of the leaves anymore. i just want to be sit on the swings at the top of the hill again. to close my eyes and not have anything weigh me down anymore. that, i want. and i hope you achieve that too.

dangshineun naneun pahboh imnida

i'll just lie in the empty field and listen to the symphony of rain. i've enough of discordant sounds.

i've given up hope of ever having a complete family

swirl of pastel pinks. i wish it will rain, but it stubbornly refuses to. ohwells. i'm used to it anyway.

throbbing headaches that refuse to go away.

since when have i become so stupid?

okay, i always was, nvm.



crumbling pressed powder between fingers,
you smear streaks of eye shadow on
the window pane.
first some light purple for emphasis,
then some white and silver to highlight.
lines of dark purple lining
mascara followed suit.
eyeliner in the dumpster,
lipsticks on the floor.
swaps of pink blusher and
dabs of lip gloss.
who needs concealer?

oh so rubbish.

untouchable, that's what you are
and that's why i will continue
yes, i will. jiayou!

i'm just so sick and tired of it all.

drop everything and leave

new skin! haha.

a girl once proclaimed self-righteously, "i do so hate people who indulge in self-pity!" she contemplated her words for a moment and nodded to herself, thinking of how SHE never did pity herself. no, not once.

then, her confident smile faded. she remembered, a distant blot of memory, tarnishing her wonderful self-image. the memories came crowding in, blocking each other out, in a tremendous effort to let itself be seen. the little girl stiffened, seeing how time and again, she had committed that frightful transgression. that transgression, that her lips had denounced just a moment ago.

hands covered her unseeing eyes as she tried desperately to block out those terrible images, of her savage, cruel self. for her memory had not just extended to those of shame and regret but also to those of her ugly self.

自作自受

that familiar chinese phrase appeared in her mind, fresh as if dipped in white paint. she screamed.

a scream that echoed around the empty room and vaulted off the high ceilings of the house. she was alone. truly alone.

she screamed again, desperate for help, for anything that might give her a glimmer of hope. her gaze settled on a dusty clock atop a battered piano. the hands were moving forward, cruelly. taking her away from redemption, from any hope of putting things right. she lifted a finger and stopped the second hand. but it only left a deep cut, not even stopping to throw her a defiant glare. this clock was testing her. she was sure of it. its golden hands gleamed, smirking. you can never stop time, it seemed to say.

"i can!" she shrieked and hurled the clock out of the window. "there! i told you so," she said in an almost triumphant tone.

alone in the wet, dewy grass, the clock peered out of its dented and chipped frame. two of its hands were bent. but did it matter? they were still moving, were they not?

i may seem like i'm playing a game
but i'm not

i'm pushed into a corner
driven up against a wall
there's only one way left for me to go
i didn't want things to be this way either
but i'm left with no choice
this is the only way left
for me to preserve ure heart

some may find me cruel
you might misunderstand
but i don't really care
just as long as you're okay
i don't mind

fighting against the circumstances pushed to me, i can only struggle feebly. for how can you row a pitifully inadequate raft up a raging waterfall? i'll just be thankful that i'm not dashed to pieces against the rocks, yet.

caged crickets are beautiful to look at, but their spirits are pretty much broken. i'll rather admire them in the fields where they are free to go wherever they want.

wouldn't you want that too?

would this fragile love ever end?

the scales are tipping-
not in my favour
they never do

that dull, familiar ache of wanting
and never getting
growing to be part of me

i just had a depressing bout of piano playing and my playing skills have just about anything but improved. ohwells. i should practise. but i don't. as usual. procrastination seems to be my most obvious trait. is it the tip of the iceberg or the bottom of it?

i want to spin the globe and wait for it to come to rest. and i'll go to the place my eyes first focus on. maybe it'll be the arctic, or japan? or paris? i set the globe in motion.

a beautiful whirl of colours like a kaleidoscope form beautiful pictures from behind half-closed lids. i mustn't cheat!

let's pass the grieving sea

how apt the song seems to be. i can almost taste the irony in the words i say. why can't i ever stop being so sarcastic and just learn to be more appreciative of my life? why can't i ever treasure what i have? why do i always do things i regret?

the globe slows down, but not quite yet. there's still some time left. did i spin it that hard?

yearning comes from deep within and wells up into the word 'i'. did you ever stop to think why the letter 'i' is in the middle of the word sin? well, i did. because of my self-centeredness did i commit most of my sins. or maybe all. can't i ever put others in front? can't i ever put God in front?

dear Father in heaven, please help me to stop being so self-centered and to always put you in the centre of my life o Lord. please help me to always think of others first before myself o Lord, please make it second nature to me Father. i know that i cannot do this by my strength alone o Father, so please help me and give me strength Lord, for i am weak and Thou art mighty. in Jesus' name i pray, amen.

the globe comes to a stop.

canada

today, i stood at the corridor
at the back of the
classrooms and watched the storm
descend. the clouds
rushed by pushed on mercilessly
by the raging wind.
the furious gusts whipped
my face and hair
as i leant further out
over the banister.
The world was coloured in shades of
grey and green, with hardly anything else
except for the bright red of
a car driving by,
oblivious of the impending wonder.
a patter of needles resounded
on the zinc roofs of the makeshift
classrooms.
i looked at the row of trees
outlined by the lonely sky
and wondered if anything could be more desolate
or beautiful.
the rain came
in sheets of white and grey,
mirroring my diminishing hope.
the impenetrable wall of water
in front was beyond my reach.
the cleasing fountains ahead,
just a distant dream.
i looked at the end of the corridor
and was amazed when i saw that
there was a gap in the watery wall.
i walked down the staircase,
exposing myself to the icy cold rain.
i paused and took in the majesty of the Creator
that allowed gaps in the rain.

i wrote that on wednesday but forgot to post it. oops. forgetful me. heh.

oh. and i cut my hair today. n it looks erm, nice? haha. depends on how you view it cause it's really very short. haven't had such short hair since primary 6 and somehow i have this feeling that keith will say "the HORROR!" or sth to that effect when he reads this. it feels quite nice having such short hair again cause i know i'm not going to waste so much shampoo and time shampooing. haha. n conditioning is so much easier too. fuss-free hair! maybe i should keep it this way. short, thin and frizz-free. i so dislike frizzy and messy hair but mine is always in a constant state of disarray. rah. no matter what i do to it, it still persists in sticking out in their individual strands, refusing to mould together into curls of some sort. sometimes, it just reminds me of me. aren't we all like that too? so should we continue applying conditioner, cross our fingers and hope for the better? or should we just simply cut it all away?

contemplating on unanswerable questions like that while mourning the loss of 2 inches of my hair isn't exactly the best of combinations. goodnight.

oh no, you call me first.

so happy

went back to dunman yesterday after don't know how many months. saw quite a few ppl but didn't talk much. sad. but at least we managed a sista lunch!(: which evolved into a not-quite-complete sista outing! but it was with the sistas nevertheless. woots! how wonderful! how exciting!(: n so like sherry to do the thumbs-up thing in front of the woman at tako pachi while we stressed her out by staring at her. lol. n zhuofei n jiawen being scandalous (fei wen). n yuxuan wearing the bob the builder hat. n may being all purple except for her hairband. n eating and waiting at yoshinoya. haha. don't worry, we do love the waiting.(: n sherry kupping my popcorn. hahaha. n too-sweet bubble tea.

oh i just love you all.

and i finally got my leaf keychain. haha. love you too chunlong!(:

would you still love me in the morning?