I've found housing.
God is good.

Physician heal yourself.

Know what you want, and what is yours.
Know your motives and deisires.
Counter them with Wisdom and the Word.
Worship and live.

We will have unfulfilled desires. Not all our desires are meant to be fulfilled.

Content thee.

You love me this much.

Bleh.

F this.

Move me gently.

I'm really tired and spent now. And that brings down my spiritual and physical immune system. Bitterness, lonliness and indignation. It will pass. Blessings.

We were talking about roses. Since Sarah received a beautiful bouquet today, from a secret admirer. He's still secret. Who would you like to receive flowers from.

Many people.
None I would want to receive.

Sex and Sinners.

Dennis is embarking on a very interesting project about prostitution.

I just came back from W*I*S*H. Women's instruction and safety house. A place set up by united way church to aid women in the sex-trade industry. They give them make up, soap, food, health check ups, condoms, and most importantly, a place to feel safe and human. I watched a video filmed in the 90s and a woman (God knows where she is now), immigrant-because-son-needed-medical-care-but-got-hooked-on-crack-and-son-got-taken-away-to-foster-care type, was weeping into the camera.

Grateful for that one moment, when she felt human again.

When have we become so base that we cannot even grant ourselves humanity?

It was for a navigator workday. We re-painted the entire room, and gave muffins to a lady on the streets, who knows where that aching heart has been.

I bleed.
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*Edit 12.34 am*

When the response to "so where are you from?" unfolds into a tale of pentatuchal proportion, and depends on who you're talking to.

We want to start a TCK* club here at UBC.

We belong to those who don't.

It's funny, my experience as a TCK wasn't granted to me simply by nature of my geograpcial situation. Having been born and raised in Canada till I was 5, then moving to england for a year before settling in Singapore for the next 15 years hardly calls for such classification of my confusion. But really, it was given to me.

I've been holding on to a duel citizenship (Singapore-Canada, or Canada-Singapore) for the past 21 years, and the tacit knowledge that I belong by right of birth, in Canada has always been in my discourse. Purely political, ignoring the occasional slip of an accent in Singapore. Had I remained in Singapore, I wouldn't have thought twice about being Singaporean through and through. But just by being here, and engaging with Canada, has forced upon me the implications of my nature of birth.

In Grace Hospital, Windsor, Ontario.

I pay local fees in UBC, I am seen as 'Domestic'. Despite the painful evidence that I am NOT culturally local.

Wah lau, cheemology sia... taboleh ta nah ah...sisder... relac one corner...

eh?

The next step to my identification with third culture comes from the cold expulsion of my identity as Singaporean. On January 22 2006, I will cease to be a Singaporean, and will henceforth travel on a Canadian Passport. Granted, the choice was mine, and granted, I no longer identify with Singaporean either. But hell, I've sung the national anthem for 12 years, the pledge is written in me, in stone. I am just discovering Canada. It's like my third date with the guy, heck.. it's an arranged marriage.

So yeah, when I return to Canada for my 4th year, I will be, according to my passport, coming home. I do not share the same citizenship with my parents or sibling.

Holy crow.

* TCK = Third Culture Kid.