"I think you don't have the slightest clue of who you are".

And that's when it all started. I'm still uncovering new bits of information every so often, like shards lodged in the soft tissue of my brain after the fall out. "Oh hello..." It's a wonder that my desire for amiability, compassion and grace was turned into foolishness, insecurity and weakness. I guess I'm still slowly learning to growth in strength as in grace. At any rate, I don't think that that was true of me at all, but I can't say that I care enough to justify it. Only know that it won't happen again.

2 hour afternoon naps do not bode well for the night. Neither does stuff like... this. The walls are yellow and the mirror reflects the weary smiles that somehow light the dark. Green petals and post-it notes strewn around flash brightly asking for attention. Always asking for attention.

Somewhere Alfie cries, and says enjoy his every smile you can see in the dark. Through the eyes of Laura Mars, how did we get so far? ~ Gold Dust :: T. Amos

Who gave you permission to do this to me now?

Being finite has its plus points: There's only so much space within my attention span for stuff. So something's gotta give and I am going to use that to my advantage.

On another note, I worry that Laura did it, while Hannah didn't.

I awoke close to 8, my body still moving gingerly from yesterday's walk, ravenous. Oh the little things that remind me that I am human.

Glen speaks gently to me from 8000 miles away, "it's natural no?". I guess I am too harsh on myself, my expectations, my fears and my desires. And yet I am hard pressed to reign in this torrid energy quickly, toward some sort of productivity. Time lost means less will be accomplished, and I've already let too many moments trickle past, with nothing to show for them - yet. I guess everything will eventually be crafted into something beautiful at the end of the day by hands quite other then my own (thankfully). I'm still young, and that's my fault.

Still, I don't know what to make of this new vulnerability that seems to have shown up right at the center of everything. Translucent, light and pale, I can't tell if she's an angel or a ghost.

Today is the first or second of August?

A asked, peeling the little eyelets out of the purple and cream parking coupons. "The first..." I thought to myself as I felt a little gasp of relief shudder through my tired little self, pressed against the leather of the car. Safe. Finally, the blessed month is here and I can feel a little safer as the folds of my world are stitched tighter together. The old is gone and the new has come.

And then there is meeting familiar panic that arises from being taught the wrong things over and over again. But I must admit, there is something quite fun in facing your fears and seeing them dissolve in the light of courage. Also, I recognize that I am especially vulnerable when exhausted. In these tired moments, even the quietest songs that seep through my headphones break my heart.

~ The best things grow from the worst disasters, the best things grow when we begin again.

The Pig must keep out of the clutches of the Snake, who will make a complete slave out of her in no time, enmeshing her in his coils to the extent that the poor Pig loses all power of movement.

As I was going up the escalator in Lido, I reminded myself of the decision made long ago to ensure that all relationships I engage in are supportive toward my life goals. I've always sensed that I would do big things. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. But at the end of the day, there really isn't a point wasting time on people who have proven unsafe and untrustworthy, anyway. And there are plenty of people out there who are willing and able to love properly.

It's just good to remember these things. :)

H to the CCM

You know what life feels like for me?

I feel like I've had a happy deficeit

And I am now racing to catch up and am over-compensating.

I don't know if that's healthy

You'd be the ones to heal me.

Everything.

You're the craziest Singaporean I've met. I mean that in a good way. You're fun.

Truly appreciate all your help. I'd much rather work with one like you than...

You'll go far. Don't let anyone question your goals

One day you will be great whatever you do.

You make me happy just being around you.

I just need to tell you that you have the sweetest and most beautiful smile in the world.

It wasn't my intention to mislead you, it never should have been this way, what can I say? It's true, I did extend the invitation but I never knew how long you'd stay. When you hear temptation call, it's your heart that takes, takes the fall. Won't you come out and play with me?

It's getting hard to wake up in the morning, my head is spinning constantly. How can it be? How could I be so blind to this addiction? If I don't stop, the next one's gonna be me. Only emptiness remains, it replaces all, all the pain. Won't you come out and play with me?

Step by step, heart to heart, left, right, left, we all fall down like toy soldiers. Bit by bit, torn apart, we never win but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

But the stumper really was: "You must have gone through a lot of hell in your life. How else would you turn out this way? This happy?" Well actually, this is my usual self... But I have felt as if this sense of joy, of appreciation that I've held towards life has deepened within me. I am just trying not to explode with this excitement that I've uncovered about what I want to do with my life, and the people who will build it with me.

I honestly, can't believe how blessed I am, and I will find ways to express my gratitude to all of you.

Letter :: Franz Wright

I am not acquainted with anyone
there, if they spoke to me
I would not know what to do.
But so far nobody has, I know
I certainly wouldn't.
I don't participate, I'm not allowed;
I just listen, and every morning
have a moment of such happiness, I breathe
and breathe until the terror returns. About the time
when they are supposed to greet one another
two people actually look into each other's eyes
and hold hands a moment, but
the church is so big and the few who are there
are seated far apart. So this presents no real problem.
I keep my eyes fixed on the great naked corpse, the vertical
corpse
who is said to be love
and who spoke the world
into being, before coming here
to be tortured and executed by it.
I don't know what I am doing there. I do
notice the more I lose touch
with what I previously saw as my life
the more real my spot in the dark winter pew becomes—
it is infinite. What we experience
as space, the sky
that is, the sun, the stars
is intimate and rather small by comparison.
When I step outside the ugliness is so shattering
it has become dear to me, like a retarded
child, precious to me.
If only I could tell someone.
The humiliation I go through
when I think of my past
can only be described as grace.
We are created by being destroyed.

Do they work together to get her?