oh alright.

I enjoy working with the kids. They exude a purity that is untrammeled by a sense of self or of falsified dignity. They're loyalty only to their interests, they will try, fall, rise, do, repeat, try, fall, rise, do anything to reach.

After the last wrap, we walked from Peace Centre to Dhoby Ghaut station tossing bits of laughter back and forth. I caught my reflection walking with us along the sidewalk - skirt peeking out unceremoniously from under my brother's over sized ALPA-S sweater.

This reminds me of being in JC.
What does?
Dressing like this. Like you don't care. A short uniform skirt and a baggy sweater and looking beautiful simply because you're young.

Like tiny knots in your hair. These balls of uncertainty ruin everything. But it's ok, right? It will only make you stronger?

Since I figured out how to start posting again, I decided to engage in a little spring cleaning and went through each post down till around May last year. The purpose of which was to delete certain unkind comments left by anonymous readers that serve no purpose, really. Let this act be a reflection of my overall approach to life.

But my real point is that in doing so, I came across much love and encouragement. :) And don't you forget it!

I have solved my unable to post things on my blog problem by switching to the old editor. WOOHOO!

Not that I have anything much to say. :)

Oh! To be a little more like you!

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There. 

I saw a girl complaining that the pain of not being seen was unbearable. I saw the mother lying in bed in her long flowing robes. Then the girl pulled out a sharp sword and told her mother, "Then you must die the death of a thousand cuts. It is the only way to save you."

The mother accepted this and closed her eyes. The sword came down and slicked back and forth, up and down, whish! whish! whish! And the mother screamed and shouted, cried out in terror and pain. But when she opened her eyes, she saw no blood, no shredded flesh.

The girl said, "Do you see now?"

The mother nodded: "Now I have perfect understanding. I have already experienced the worst. After this, there is no worst possible thing."

And the daughter said, "Now you must come back, to the other side. Then you can see why you were wrong."

And the girl grabbed her mother's hand and pulled her through the wall.

~Lena St. Clair: The Voice from the Wall. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan

There must be a storm coming. The passing minutes are punctuated with bouts of lightning, red, lighting up the silhouette of the far off forest canopy. I love tropical storms, and tonight, I will sleep deeply amidst its clapping power, thankful for the days gone by and the days to come. I cannot recall happier days. I suspect it's security that has descended upon me and my adventurous days are drawing to a stable, timely close.