Saturday, March 06, 2004

at 11:34 pm on a friday night.

I shared a cup of pain with a pubescent youth.
I craved chocolate.
I had casual convo with an old friend of 13 years.
I tried and failed to love as best as I could a beautiful girl, who left in the end.
I contemplated marrying metal with flesh. again.
I pondered Derrida.
I checked my housing status and the bookstore hours.

at 11:34 pm on a friday night...

I wind up feeling that I have accomplished nothing at all.

Friday, March 05, 2004

now, get past this one.

I want to make it all right everything that I've said and done that has vaguely displeased anyone anything that I am that I've done that I've said that renders me unacceptable unlovable or disapproved of But then I realise that that would entail a loss of identity a compromise of the self then I question what I am and what is right and what is wrong and I realise I cannot come to any defination I am not even sure of what is characteristically me I think that is my greatest problem reconciling who I am with what I want with who I should be with who others think I am with what others want me to be There are so many parts of me that I repress for this I think I just want to be comfortable oh dammit.

And Love. Wasn't and isn't an easy thing at all.
But Agape. To love despite the cost, despite the ignorance, despite the process.
The Passion of the Christ was overwhelming, earth-shaking and ultiamately: numbingly quietening.
I can't feel much now, it hasn't changed my life or my perspective of God, i did want to faint, I did want to cry. I also marveled at the cinematography and make-up and thought that some scenes looked curiously LOTRish. Were the jews pieces of cardboard at one point? hmmmmm...

Now I'm out of the cinema, with a few new things to think about but for the most part, i sink into the mundanity of routine and grapple with everyday UBC vanier life.

Thursday, March 04, 2004

Today I met up with the Burnhams, family friends from Calgary days now currently residing in Salmon Arm (I have to figure out how they name places here). I wondered for a split second in their car what it would be like if I were caucasian.

No way.

I thought that it wouldn't make a difference. After all, I was born here, rasied in western coutries in my infant - toddler years. Heck, my best friend in my formative teenage years was white. Even in singapre, I had some residue of a Canadian accent.

So I envisioned peering out of blue-pupiled eyes from beneath blonde lashes.

The immense discomfort made me realise that the difference between us isn't just DNA

We are not the same

We are equal but not identical.

It's not just in our blood,
it's in our heart, soul, and mind (in biblical terms, every bitty thing we are.)

It's in the decisions we make, the reactions that betray, the inclinations we tend towards, the ideologies we breathe by, the beat in our step, the tilt of our postures, the path of our eyes and the insticts that rise from within.

All in that one pool of humanity.

So, now I know. It goes much deeper then I anticipated, or can comprehend.
But it's NOT a problem to be eradicated. It's a beauty to relish.


Oh my wonderful daddy came on monday. We ate alot.
He bought me 2 kg worth of rice. Cos i said that I don't have any anymore.
Ahhh. true love.
Amazing. I love my family.

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

wo he ta

I sit here and glower, tucked in the corner
of the number 17 down broadway. She sits opposing
me: pretty as a petal, a fragile flower wreathed in desperate attempts.

Lips that form the shapes of ideas that dance
in my ears and taunt my incapacitaed mind. Hair intoxicated with pretense,
and a face, layered like a geisha save the truth. Sway

I sit here and glower, tucked in the corner
of a colour that I share with her. My tongue drops
on the gritty bus floor. -Dead- after ten thousand years of history.
Still, I keep my hair jet black, embracing my blood while being absolutely
from hers.

I've found my research topic for sociolgy: the Chinese Identity.

Tuesday, March 02, 2004

Now the one thing I struggle with is my sense of self, rootedness and Identity.

Yes. Still.

A little bit of everything and I forget who I am. I compromise myself a lot in a desperate attempt to gain acceptance. Every now and then I get to a point where I question my identity. Do I really think this way? Would i really do that? Feel that? react that way?

Or am I this way now just because of you?

The head tells me it's all in the process, the heart says to drop dead and die.
13:07 hours

To too many people:

I love you. Now grow up.
Myself included.

"Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach. It is not up in heaven so that you have to ask "Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, "who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it "
~ Deuteronomy 30:11-14

God's law is written by man for man with an intimate understanding of man.
Nothing simpler then to Love.
Nothing simpler then through God.
Nothing simpler then a choice of letting go.

Now I just have to decide to love.

... . . .. . . . .. . . .. . . . . .. . .. . .. . . . . ... ... . . ... . . .. . .. .. . . . .. .. ..

16:24 Hours

I am darkish. Like shadow.
I scratch at my skin, too tight, too lose, too gawdy, too strict,
too much.
I teach myself that I am less then spectacular.

Monday, March 01, 2004

Rehearsals are always very interesting for me, usually very unfulfilling and dissatisfactory.

Either too much time is wasted,
or someone doesn't turn up,
or some technical problem sneaks up on us,
or the logistics don't work out,
or we run out of gaffa tape. The classic.

But it's always been worth it worth it.

Sitting all alone like that...

I find I'm not taking this seriously. It's really hard when no one else really does.
I no long spend energy propping myself up, being a lump is acceptable here.
Not to say this is negative, it's just different.

But I think, I've been spoilt by passion.

Sunday, February 29, 2004

When beauty comes by knocking

I am overwhelmed by the power relationships have in my life. How they are used for me, against me and by me. They are essentially all we have, all we are and all we want to be. One no more impacting then the next. In sociology, i essentially learnt that relationships are just power-struggles. How true and how amazing. We spend time and energy shaping another, imposing on and molding to fit. It's a constant process, of compromise and friction. But it's only though all that that anything matters.

And it's only though friction that heat is produced.

I would stand here, secure enough to tell you my insecurites. To lay it all out on the table, to give myself fully to the master's hand. With no fear of permanent damage. No if anything, it would be self-improvement. But the greatest gift out of all this: Fulfilment.

Talk to me. I love you.

Love seeketh not itself to please,
nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease
and builds a heaven in hell's despair.