Things Only Happen Once.

I had a revelation recently. Something that you may have already had the privilege of realising far earlier than I have, but I will share my thoughts nonetheless.

It is that things only happen exactly once.

If you think carefully about it, every breath you take is unique.
Every time you think about something, you think about it a little bit differently.
Every time you spend time doing something that is routine, there is bound to be something that is different from the last time you did it.

Can you feel the weight of it yet?

No?

Well, let me explain.

This phenomenon is known more commonly as Time. Every second that passes by is literally unable to return to us. Time is something we can never expect to get returns from. All of us are at the mercy of Time, blooming as we become adults, decaying as we grow old—whichever it is. We are not God; we cannot exist beyond Time, hence we must live through it, on a straight path, only moving forward and physically unable to move backward in Time.

This means that every time you get something done, it will be done in that exact manner once.

You will breathe a certain way, smell a certain fragrance, hear certain sounds, see certain sights, and complete that task in a very specific way.

The next time you write an essay, you might hold the pencil at a very slightly different angle. Slight, but different nonetheless. The next time you go swimming, your swimsuit will catch on a different part of your body. A varying number of hairs will fall from your head each day. You will taste exactly that amount of tastes in that day—no more, no less, and it continues to change each day.

Change is the only constant.
It's true.

But something that is truer than that, is that times are always changing.

Can you feel the weight of it yet?

Yes?

Then perhaps it's time to reflect on each moment. To never take things for granted to as far as we can remember, for we are human and we forget. To always remember to live in the present, fully, without a doubt. To continuously remind ourselves to do exactly that. To know that every moment, though different, is beautiful and made beautiful in its own time.

Things only happen once.

Watch as they go.
Feel as they come.
Try to hold on, but let go as they pass.

let's go, 2017.

the last time i wrote here, it was about the difficulty of adjusting to a working adult's life. four months have passed since i last posted here, and it's the new year now. since then, i've officially landed myself a full-time job; aged significantly (mentally, as that's what working at Mossery does to you) yet somehow still retained my rather annoying (to others) energetic self; felt far away from the church, missed it dearly, came back and still felt a bit of a distance but am eternally thankful for friends whom i can pick up a conversation with at any given time; and got into no relationships (no duh).

so, here's a brief list of what i've done this year. not because everyone is doing it, but because i want to document it and look back at it one day. also because i have pretty awful memory.

in no particular order:

1. worked with Sketch Post. from smaller, private functions to massive illustrated boards sent to the US for a convention, and having eaten at Nobu KL this year plus a few other fancy places without actually realising the incredible quality of food at the given moment. (also tried quinoa for the first time. i quite liked it.)


2. interview with Mossery for my academic internship there and eventually interning + working with them. 


• spent four days pre-actual-internship at Penang with Jun, Vivian, and Saloni. it was definitely the most interesting way to start my internship experience.
• learned heaps over the course of 6 months (internship + probation) - from the creative to the technical sides of everything at work.
• hung out way too much with my colleagues talking about death, outer space, aliens, among other things.
• learned a little bit of everything: coding, illustrator, photography, etc. hoping to learn more this year and master some skills!
• three times to Singapore this year with the team, and every time was a unique experience.
• brought the entire team to watch Esther, and the supper that followed after was a very interesting conversation i can never quite forget. (:
• had (and am still having) incredibly up-close and honest relationships with people at work. if it wasn't for people who are brave enough to be honest with me, i would not be a better person, nor would i be consciously working on myself. grateful.


3. worked freelance very very briefly and earning my first thousand bucks from a single job.


4. first time going to Indonesia to attend my first international wedding (:


5. The Sam Willows concert at The Bee, watched Into The Woods (live musical), saw Saturday Afternoon live a couple of times, went for The Impatient Sisters' music video launch, etc.


6. directed a full-fledged play on campus. incredibly grateful for people who are talented, teachable, and infinitely helpful with all things. even when i didn't openly ask for help, the community just came to assist. also performed a song live at the end of both nights of the show.


7. volunteered to teach 6-year-old kids graphic recording / sketch-noting over a period of 6 weeks during their once-a-week after-school extra class.


8. lost my grandpa (mom's dad).


9. chalked an entire wall in my church premise, also chalked my front porch. fell in love with chalk quite a bit. hoping to explore this medium a lot more this year.


10. The Last One Awake's intimate album listening party. i was surprised why i was even invited. gasp.


11. talked about priorities and responsibilities in church towards the end of the year and decided to let go of some stuff i had taken part in. it was tough, but i knew i had to let go before everything went to ruins with me not focussing on helping out at all. 


12. met amazing talents in person whom i never quite thought would come across - Angelyn, Marissa, Christian, Kevin Hagino, Si Hui, Shannon, just to name a few.


13. graduated from university, after 4 years of studying Literature and Gender Studies. i miss the ever-enriching discussions in class about all things human. 
• also did a graduation photoshoot with my friends from Bitesize Visuals!


14. worked with Idea Ink briefly as well - the Millenial 20-20 event was a definite eye-opener to graphic recording and honing my skills in that area particularly.


15. brother got married. woohoo!


16. got my first ever fountain pen from Jun and Vivian for my birthday this year. also got mutiple-layered surprises from my friends who knew i hated large crowds. i felt immensely loved this year on my birthday, and was grateful for every single person who bothered to wish me well.

2017 is a year of seeking discomfort for me. i've been running away from many problems in the past years, and though i tell others to be honest, i haven't been quite honest with myself entirely. we choose things to talk about, to see, to hear, to process, and we filter the rest to be archived forever. this year, i want to live an unfiltered life. i want to be straight-up honest with myself - whether it's in how bad i write, or how much i want to buy a silly thing because it makes me happy - i want to be completely honest. i want to make things because i want to, i want to be happy because it makes me happy, and i want to follow God because He's given me life.

some things i want to focus more on this year:

1. identify problems and solve them head on, instead of pretending that they're not there.
• i realised towards the end of the year that i had a terrible habit of pretending that problems aren't really there, especially if they're smallish problems that doesn't seem to be causing any harm or damage. i'm going to learn to speak up on these little things, because i've said it myself so many times that the little things matter the most.


2. believe in others and your(my)self.
• give the benefit of doubt to others. love my neighbour as myself. stretching on love rather than passing judgment. 


3. be involved.
• another bad habit i noticed is that i tend to shrink back and do nothing when i see others be involved. this is true in leadership terms. i'm the kind of person who balances out the atmosphere, so if someone else is loud, i'll speak less. if someone else is leading the team very apparently, i'll stand back. i think being less involved made me a passive leader, and as much as i believe that every leader has a style of their own, i also believe that if i push myself to get involved in different activities, i stand an equal chance in growing as well.


4. don't hold back.
• this one's a dangerous one, because it might wear me out. another habit to kill is the spirit of procrastination. i tend to avoid doing things that require more effort than i had expected, and i want to go against that current this year. be extra bold, extra courageous, extra crazy, and push myself all the way. rest is important, but this year is about getting productive (not busy!) in everything i am called to do.

change only happens when action is taken.

no empty words this year. embrace change.

perpetual adulthood.

roughly a year ago, i wrote about adulthood.

i talked about turning twenty-three and what adulthood meant to me.

a year later, i see a little bit differently.

i recently took the opportunity to watch a Malaysian production of Into The Woods, a musical that has always touched my heart and soul in ways i never thought it could be touched and transformed. my favorite song from the musical speaks to me a lot about adulthood. about growing up.

the gist of the song: no matter what happens, you're not alone. we all grow up, and things will seem less clear, less simple than it was when we were younger. no more mere rights and wrongs, and doing unto others what they do unto you. 'you decide what's good', based on what you believe in, what you know to be true. if you want to forgive a giant, then do it. if you want to love a witch, then do it. i find the song to be enormously powerful because it was sung by adults (Cinderella and The Baker) to the children (Red and Jack), which was one of the fundamental themes of Into The Woods. these relationships between adults and children--adults were once children too, and now they tell the younger ones about their experiences. they become storytellers of their own, and children too, will grow up to be another generation of storytellers.

it also talks about the mistakes that we all make: no matter who we are and how old or experienced we become, we're all human and we make mistakes. i really love how the adults tell the children to honor people's mistakes and fight for their mistakes, even, choosing to see the strength and necessity in making such mistakes, instead of finding fault in people, but at the same time without ever discounting the cost of these 'terrible mistakes'. somewhere in the woods that is adulthood, we're bound to lose our way a little bit, stray from the path, and make mistakes--but we're told that we're never alone. that no one is ever alone.

my favorite lines are definitely

"witches can be right, giants can be good"

it underlines the fact that nobody should ever be judged by the roles that they are assigned. just because the characters in the story are designed to be inherently evil (the witch and the giant), and even though they do act the way they're designed, Cinderella and The Baker refuse to believe that people are merely the way they were made to be. things are no longer as simple as they seem to be in the storybooks we read. 

as i've entered into my woods, though the woods are trees and the trees are just woods, i will be aware of wolves, of witches, of giants, of princes, of curses, and of anything in my path. the woods maybe a little bit dark and scary and uncertain of events, i'll know this in my heart: no one is alone. i can always count on someone, even if i think i'm in the loneliest of situations.

dear people who (think they) don't like to read,

hear me out.

i only started reading seriously at the age of 18. i come from a chinese-educated family and i've always found it an immense struggle to read, especially in English, because it required so much of my time and attention to finish a single book. nothing ever caught my eye because i was much more interested in comic books as a child. however, when i was 18. i finished The Hunger Games in the span of about 3 days for all 3 books, and it was the fastest i've ever read anything in my life. this, mind you, was my first time reading a legitimate book without being forced, after more than 10 years of staying away from any kinds of English books.

i think the reason why many people say they don't like to read or just can't read is the fact that how our already-short attention span was minimized by all the electronics and gadgets surrounding us in our lives. information is one touch away, social media posts are getting shorter and shorter, people only want to see pictures or charts, and anything that takes more than 15 seconds to load is not worth anyone's time.

behold, the microwave generation.

and i feel like i am able to say this, to tell this to your face, dear unbeliever of reading (or your own capability of being able to read), is because i've gone through it. nurturing a habit to read is never too late, and certainly not impossible. you just need to find things that you like. it's simple: just like wanting to get fit, you choose a sport or a workout routine that you like and suits you. reading is as essential as keeping fit, because it is precisely the mind's gym sessions. reading works our mind, and we need to keep those cogs in our brains going so that we can keep getting better at so many things in life.

reading also enriches our souls. every experience you get from reading a book, whether good or bad, is an experience that impacts your soul. it leaves a mark. there are so many great writers with so many fantastic stories (fictional or not) waiting for you to discover them. start easy, like me. i started with a Young Adult dystopian novel, which was only catching up to popularity then. if you're inspired by a certain famous person and have always wanted to know the secret to their success, read an autobiography. if you love the magical and fantastical, go to the fantasy section and there will be plenty of books to choose from. if you love romantic stories, then head on over to the countless stacks of Nicholas Sparks and Cecelia Ahern novels. if you're into entrepreneurship, grab a self-help book and start reading your bum off. the list is endless!

honestly, if you really don't know where to start, leave a comment below on what you're interested to read, and i'll find something that's simple enough and easy to read for you. i promise you won't ever regret picking up reading as a habit. ever.

nothing beats the smell of a book in your hands.

be creative.

we're two days away from Christmas, and i'm a mess.

i just finished one of the most stressful assignments to date (because i knew next to nothing about it), i have four pretty difficult papers to actually study for this semester, because they're all conveniently full of technical terms (the first paper being on New Year's Eve), i'm helping to produce an upcoming music video for church in January, directing 2016's PKVUM's Easter production and handling all the creative side of the committee within the whole of 2nd semester, stressing out about doing part-time illustrations for Idea Ink because i haven't done any in a couple of weeks now, and to top it all off, hormones are messing with everything that i'm feeling.

but amidst the chaos, just like every other time, i heard a voice.

Tigger here is just assisting me to hold the paper.

more often than not, when my mind sinks into a spiraling mess of an opaque abyss, my body goes into Panic Mode. Panic Mode is when i simply panic, and be highly anxious about everything, but i don't actually do anything about it. it's quite a toxic process because i end up procrastinating and feeling bad about procrastinating, hence sinking deeper into the said opaque abyss. however, like many of my other negative traits, it has progressed over the years, and it's not as bad today as it was three years back, though sometimes i do still find myself in rather rough situations.

tonight is one of those times. a few days back i posted a status on Facebook asking genuinely if anyone is actually sick of receiving my art as gifts, because the value of art is so subjective it can just torment the artist from inside out like this, and giving away one tiny part of your soul is never very fun when you suddenly realize the possibility of the receiver hating whatever that you've made for them, or worse, simply feeling indifferent about your work. tonight, as i finished that assignment, the stress didn't go away. the pile of projects--personal and professional--all came to haunt me simultaneously, begging me to somehow deal with them with equal parts of attention, which was massive to me. 

i showered, came back into my room, wrote the note down, and began to write here. 

you, my friend, as much as i do, need to hear this:

it's okay to be not okay.

we take for granted the cliches that come by our lives sometimes, that we forget how true they can be. it's okay to slip up, to procrastinate, to make mistakes, to not complete your tasks on time. it's okay. it's permissible, but it doesn't mean you should do it on purpose. i'm just saying that we're all human and we're not Santa's perfect little elves, designed to make perfect little toys in a perfect little world. we're far from it. living in a day and age of buzzing technology where we are demanded of our attention every single second of our lives, we almost always forget to look up at the sky, and enjoy letting our imagination going wild, thinking of a floating castle or making up silly things from the shape of the clouds.

so here's the deal: whenever you feel like you're panicking (and i'm speaking to myself too), stay calm, don't overthink, and do something creative.

now when i say do something creative, it doesn't always have to involve making things. it's absolutely great if you can make things--visual art, sculptures, ballads, jazz steps, documentaries, poems, anything! this is being actively creative. and i honestly believe everyone can do it. no, not everyone can be an artist of sorts, because that requires a very specific passion and direction, but everyone is definitely able to be creative! 

however, if you feel uncomfortable being actively creative, why don't you start with being passively creative then? all you need to do is pick up any form of resources, and you simply be the audience. it's as simple as going to the museum, watching a movie, catching a play, reading a book--anything that will let your mind wander. even the simplest act of stopping whatever you're doing, catching your breath, and observing your surroundings for a good 5 minutes, is being passively creative. you're letting your mind take a break from doing clockwork routines, so that it can stretch and have some fun imagining about endless possibilities. 

the most important thing to note? 

don't be afraid of mistakes. 

make them. make lots of mistakes. that's how we learn. that's how we get somewhere. that's how courage shows. oh yes, you've got courage in your heart alright. you just haven't seen yourself unleash it. 

merry Christmas, you. 

(thank you for reading my mega-long post. this happens sometimes.)

story / song.

one foot down, touching the wooden floor, his voice began to resonate within the room. the guitar made noises that was more than just arbitrary sounds, creating a melody that was more than just ordinary music. he breaks forth a smile as he made a mistake in singing the words. those who notice, smile silently as well. a story was being told, in tunes and in notes; it swayed above the air. the symphony of one guitar and one boy's voice resounded now, beloved instrument taking over to sing louder than ever. his mind focused, his hands steadied, his eyes unwavering, and then it dies. abrupt. there is an air of unsatisfactory which lingers. the thirst lingers. the show begins.

she sings. a rhyme of unmistakable soul so tangibly present in her voice. the changing of notes in one word takes your breath away. your focus is sharp on her—you can't take your eyes off her, nor ears. 'healing resides in the mingling of hearts', said she. her voice is fierce, not wanting to let go of your spirit. she holds on to your soul, with her song.

the violinist takes her place. they began to converse. the evident exchange of looks between musicians seem to spark magic. as if chemistry is happening and the song builds up from there, bubbling like an eighth-grader's science experiment gone wrong, except it's gone right. it tastes like gold, the melody of the violin and guitar combined. he sings of the moon.

the conversation between brother and sister through songs play in our ears. as he had sung a burning song that branded your heart, she sings a song to heal, to stitch, to mend the wounds. through the notes, you feel a story. you feel like you were pushed down, and then now you're being picked up again. anger turns into silence, and pain turns into paralysis. at least we're going somewhere. at least we're... going.

(mostly written on and off during Mia and Christian Palencia's set in Merdekarya, 6th of November, 2015.)

remember.

to the days unwell,
the hours darkest,
the silence eternal;
remember to die.

remember to live;
refuse to be taken away.
do not let:
unforgiveness, anger, pain,
sorrow, misery, disappointment,
take you.

to the days of ill,
remember your soul.
of wonder, of hopes,
of dreams, and of all things forgotten.
remember, remember.

raise your glass.

here's to the cool adults.

to the adults who never despise youth, because they know they've been there, and to those who tell you that you remind them of themselves;

to the adults who are almost the equivalent of supercomputers, filled with innumerable amounts of knowledge, with no way for others to access it unless they freely share it;

to the same adults, who share with us their wisdom with utmost humility;

to the adults who try their hardest to never let a promise turn empty, so that they will not disappoint a child;

to the adults who are hard at work, and are most serious with the people they work with. not because they are strict or disciplined people, simply because they know how much it matters to invest into people, to build communities, to create lasting relationships;

to the same adults who look at friendships as more than just beneficial;

to the adults who will never say no to an ice-cream, even on the coldest day;

to the adults who listen to you, and really listen to you, then giving you the most honest comments and feedback. they may not be pleasant to be heard, but at least they listened, and they tell you these harsh words so to maneuver you away from the mistakes that they have made;

to the adults who fell in love with playing in the rain, and had never ceased to seize the opportunity to do so since then;

to the adults who acquire others' respect from the air of authority they've gathered over the years, and not from the orders they give;

to the eccentric adults who stay eccentric;

and best of all, to the adults who are somehow still who they were twenty years ago, just like us, except they walk around now with an air of confidence only time and experience are able to give.

here's to the coolest adults.

surat.

dear Suzy,

you're five years old today, as i write to your older self. i write with much hope that you would be part of a generation that will not end up as ruined as ours.

i was born in the age of the revolution, dear Suzy. you may remember faintly the times when all your uncles and aunties would not shut up about how corrupted the government was. that is the time i am freely alive in. the time of tear-gas bombs and protests, the time of not being able to identify between peaceful gatherings and chaotic riots, the time when all our lives seemed like a bubbling cauldron of mess, waiting to overflow and spill everywhere.

i'm writing to you now, because i want you to know this: never stop fighting.

i don't know how life will be like for you in twenty years' time, when you're a young woman with great ambitions and dreams for yourself or perhaps, greater yet, for more than just yourself. (there's really nothing wrong with having dreams for yourself though, but mark my words, Suzy--the most life-changing ideas sparked from a heightened sense of selflessness. i hope you will have the courage and strength to pursue it.) but i am writing this to you because i want you to know, at the age of 25, no matter how Malaysia may be in 2035, i need you to understand that the fight is never over. not when we elect a new Prime Minister, not when we arrest those who had gone against the law, and especially not when the government is no longer under a certain party that has ruled too long.

you will have your own age of revolution, just like me. i never thought i would come to live in a time where everything seems like it's constantly falling apart. people stopped seeing hope in their lives--in the people around them and themselves. they stopped believing in greater things. as long as you open your eyes and heart, Suzy, you will see and know that there will always be communities who are crying out for help. and we will never stop fighting for a cause we believe in.

the fight does not end in a single, fleeting moment. it never does. and it speaks perfectly of our purposes as people, Suzy. we're not here to fight one another, heavens no. we're here to fight for each other. to speak up on differences and make one another understand. to hold hands, while staring at our scars, knowing that we can be happy together. the fight never ends because we want to keep fighting hatred with love, corruption with integrity, lies with honesty, cruelty with mercy, grudge with forgiveness--and just so much more. wherever you're headed to, Suzy, i hope you go with a heart full of love, hope, and unending dreams. know that Malaysia, your dear nation, the land where your blood spills upon, will always be home.

i hope you understand, Suzy, that our purpose here, is to leave a mark; the kind of legacy one would look back at and go, i've done the best i could.

love, Uncle Zainal

what's the rush?

photo from tumblr.

as i sung love songs that did not tell my stories--because i had none to tell--a revelation fell upon me like the apple did on the frustrated scientist. i had yearned for scenes that would belong to my very own real-life chick flick: the laughter, the hands-holding, the forehead kisses, the movies together, the snuggling, the sleeping in bed all day and doing nothing, the IKEA dates. it was true: i was looking at a relationship, desiring it, only for the good bits.

but here is the revelation: what's the rush?

we live in a microwave world where everything must be heated up within 30 seconds and ready to go, ready to be eaten, expected to supply all the nutrients any other food would. we live in a microwave world where everything has a timer to it: the peak of your career, the climax of your college life, the expiry date of your singleness. everything. and to be honest, i'm sick of it.

i can't believe it took me this long to realize it, but i'm sick of the expiry date labels society decides to stick on each and every one of us, telling us when it is appropriate to get a job, date, get married, have children, retire, have grandchildren, and die.

the facts are these: we yearn to get that partner, that special someone in life, because we're at the appropriate age to do it. because other people are doing it and you're not, and they're your age, and it's appropriate. screw appropriate. as much as these things act as a sort of guide to everyone, we don't need to follow it. God has amazing plans for each and every single one of us, and if every plan worked out the same way, in the same timings, it would not be the beautiful, chaotic world that we live in. face it: some people bloom later than the rest, and some earlier than most. some live a short life and some don't--it doesn't mean one is less glorious than the other.

singleness is almost never praised upon. as much as we try to tell ourselves or the people around us that it is okay to be single, all of us secretly worship the idea of being with someone. to find that someone who thinks you're as special as them, who wants to love you as much as they love themselves. how is that not an attractive concept?

but let me tell you this: you are a glorious concept. you, working your way through your destiny--the half-written book that God has prepared for you; you, a beautiful mess, as much as you would hate to think yourself to be one; you, a being created not solely to find your other half, but a being created to create, to inspire, to love. you are a glorious concept.

i'll be honest with you. i yearn for it, that perfect disaster of a man, waiting to happen. the chick-flick that belongs to me, the story that i can tell, the love song that i can sing, one day. but i'm not going to let this yearning ruin whatever else i have in mind now for the world. there's no rush to it, i remind myself. there's only you, and God, and whatever else in between that can happen.

if it happens, it happens.
if it doesn't, other things are still happening.

don't rush your way through this, surrendering your heart to someone who only wants to see how high they can throw it in the sky before it shrivels up in mid-air.

fight hard.

it's so easy to forget.

blink.

there goes all your dreams, hopes, passion, love. you don't do it on purpose. life just seeps in very, very quietly. i see now how people can just drown willingly in their work life. it becomes a necessity. a way of life. it takes over without having to ask for permission. you let it grow, infest, and eventually it becomes the thing that cradles you in comfort every morning when you wake up.

you live in comfort knowing that you will have money at the end of the month, food to put on your plate, a house to live in, and other life necessities.

comfort is a disgusting word.

it acts like a drug. it keeps you happy. constantly and consistently. it sways you in the ocean of everything lovely and great and wonderful, occasionally throwing you a wave or two of disruptions that may come in the form of disappointment, grief, but soon you are overcome by waves of comfort, knowing that you are okay where you are and you don't need to go anywhere.

gratitude and comfort are two entirely different matters.

gratitude sparks a response. comfort does not.
comfort leaves you in a state of high, it numbs you, and pulls you into desiring this numbness of the body and soul.

it's so easy to forget your purpose, when you're comfortable.

keep moving. don't stay down. keep feeling pain. go further every time. try harder, again and again and again, especially when it hurts. stay alive.

stay alive, and don't forget who you are, and why you're here as you, in this time, in this community, in this nation, in this world. you are you, so please, be the best version of you. don't just let time slip by you.

(inspired by recent events, as in the re-watching of Fight Club, the realization that there are more important things that matter, and that i physically am unable to take on the mundane, routine life.)

unpopular.

it took me a long time to finally realize and acknowledge it, but here's the thing: i'm not called to be popular.

to be painfully honest, i've always wanted to be popular--and at the same time, i never wanted to be popular. i wanted to be liked. i wanted to be the person who would always make a crowd laugh. i want to be the confident girl who is funny, outspoken, and loved by all. but i never wanted to do it, because i've always knew, somehow, that i'm not built to be charismatic, and even if i can, it would be something that is created and not innately in me from the start. it would be a facade.

so today, i hear from God.
i'm not called to be the popular girl.
to be liked by many, to be making people laugh, to be the class clown, to be the most cheerful, optimistic, loud person in the room.

i'm called to be different. quiet, yet powerful.
and by different i don't mean talented, gifted, or out of the ordinary. yes, i could be all of that, but i know what kind of different i am. the sort of person people don't really talk to and laugh about the things i tell them. the sort of person that is so easily overlooked sometimes, because we're so used to being alone. the sort of person who feels like an outcast, who can be forgotten, or placed aside, or less liked because of our overly-specific thoughts and overworked emotions.i know i am called to be different because i was all of these.

i know i am called to be different so that i know who to look out for.
who to not forget. who to not leave behind. who to listen to.

i'm called to be unpopular.
don't get me wrong, this isn't a pity party post fishing for compliments. this is me, telling you how i truly feel. and this me, telling you that maybe, just maybe, you're called to be something else from what you had wanted to be, also. trust me when i say it won't be as bad as you think it might be, for not reaching your expectations of what it should have been--what you should have been. but God has bigger plans, much bigger plans, for all of us. and i take pride in being different, set apart from the usual crowd.

God has a plan for you.

when i'm gone.

i imagine myself to be one of those people who are not dearly missed immediately when i'm gone. unlike many friends i know who are loud and know how to make their presence felt effortlessly--and don't get me wrong, i love these maniacal friends to bits--i am not like them. the kind of presence i have hardly ever take place immediately. it seeps into your bones; saturates your soul; burns a hole in your being at the slowest pace.

and when i'm gone, you don't notice.

you don't realize at the very first moment.

you think, oh, she'll come back. she always does. 

but it never happens.

little did you realize that somehow, i have taken over the tiniest parts of your body and mind. i know all the nooks and crannies. i know all the hollow spaces. i am familiar with all your voids, because i have been to the darkest places of your heart. and it was there that i had lingered. it was there that i stayed, so that i can feel your pain, your sorrows, and all of your unhappiness. 

so when i leave, i leave without a trace.

i'm not trying to sound important and noble, but i'd like to think that i venture into spaces where people don't always want to go to. and i choose to stay, in spite of the dim lights or recurring power outages within your soul. i don't mean to sound like i'm the kindest person in the world, but i'd like to think that i'm just designed to fit into the tiny little spaces no one looks at. not all the time.

so when i'm gone, it lingers.

it's not a sharp pain in your ribs. it's an ache that doesn't go away for months. 

i imagine myself to be one of those people who are not dearly missed immediately when i'm gone. because when i do vanish, when i do disappear, when i do take leave from your life, my absence becomes a small puncture in your life. you don't really see it, but you can certainly feel it. as time passes, the puncture, like weight carried over time, feels bigger. but it has not changed one bit.

i'd like to think that's what my absence may feel like to others.

or maybe it doesn't.

i do not belong here.

i do not belong here.

i had been living a
lie.
for a moment i
thought i had settled
down.
for
a brief moment i
thought i had stopped
feeling out
of place.

where are
you now?
where are
we?

i lay here, dead as
a lilac in
the winter
snow.

my
voice unspoken,
unheard, in
ruins.

i do not belong here.
i am sure
of it.

#discplesnotdependents

the sounds of a Sunday evening was slightly different today. instead of music from my laptop or voices from behind a microphone, we heard each other. the clinking of glasses and slightly exaggerating laughter echoed within our ears.

three years ago, we barely knew each other. most of us came from outside the big city, wide-eyed and innocent. we knew not what to expect. i, for one, who was one of the only people from the big city itself, but i knew lesser than you did. it had only been six months since i said yes to Jesus. i still had no idea what i was doing or who i was going to be. i still had no direction, no clue, no purpose.

three years ago, we had people looking after us, making sure we were settling in alright and doing okay with our lives. they comforted us and encouraged us. today, we are the ones taking care of the new students. we take them in under our wings so naturally because we know, how it was like to have arrived in a city with almost no one to call friend and nowhere to call home. we are one another's home away from home.

this is the result of discipleship. and i see it happening already even today at church. fresh faces who were once shy, talking to newcomers and making sure nobody was left behind. this is the power of discipleship. we don't just pass down our authority, we pass down our hearts directly to the people. we are prepared to be vulnerable and honest because we don't want any walls or lies to hinder our relationships. we want to stay true to one another.

we are willing to give you our hearts, our passion, our dreams.
and when you resonate with our vision, you would do the same.

it's simple, really.
whose lifestyle are you choosing to follow?

i choose Jesus.

inspired by true events.

i can't tell you.

i can't tell you what had happened in details, but know this: love was there.

no, not the responsible kind of love between family, where you sometimes feel obliged to say 'i love you'. no, not the love towards your children, where you adore them to bits and all you hope is for them to grow up okay--whatever your definition of 'okay' maybe. no, not the romantic kind of love between a boy and a girl or any other genders--whichever way you swing--where you find yourself smiling, heart beating too fast, blushing, warmth reaching from the ends of your hair to all of your fingertips.

no, not that sort of love.

but love was there. a very specific kind of unconditional love, where you need absolutely no reason to love someone, except simply because they are who they are. the type of love that asks for nothing in return, yet sacrifices all for you. a combination of both nobility and humility is found in this sort of love, where it expects nothing, and only seeks to love forever.

yes, love was there.

no regrets.

i just registered my courses for my second semester of my 3rd year today. it's happening. it really is happening.

suddenly i will have no more minor courses to take, and i'll be graduating in a year's time. suddenly we will all want to cherish all the times we have, but we'll still make the same mistakes of doing all our assignments a night before the submission dates. suddenly we will take all the time we have left on campus, try not to countdown to the end, and make every moment count by spending as much time as possible with all the people you love on campus, whom you may or may not see on a regular basis after you graduate. because you know how easily it is to drift away from one another without that daily routine that glues all of us together. you know how people let go and move on with their lives. one more year. roughly 16 more months.

it's more than just a little strange, spending half your time with friends you've met for barely three years, trying to figure out your adulthood and maturing at the quickest rate ever. no wonder they say college friends are the ones that last the longest. or did they? i don't know. all i know is that these faces, that were so fresh to me just three years back, are now some of the closest friends i have. these same faces, are some of the most passionate people i am so privileged to be able to learn from. these people have taught me so much, inspired me on so many levels, and stayed by my side even though i am the whiny, physically weak, overly-emotional person that i am.

soon we will put on our graduation robes and hats, say our goodbyes, and hope that our farewells are not as dramatic as Hollywood movies depicted them to be. i can only hope, with the strongest desire, that we will not truly go our separate ways, but we will find one another again, when our paths cross and when our dreams collide.

here's to the final 1.5 years left in one of the most significant times of my life.

OCD.

as an artist-in-learning (let's face it, i will forever be one), i've come to terms with chaos. disorder. unorganized things. once upon a time i had a real issue with keeping everything in order, under control, in place. i needed to feel like i'm in control. everything needs to be where it has to be. it HAS to be. but now, i've learned to let a little mess in. sometimes, even, let a lot of mess in. in terms of physical objects, or even mental states. i understand now that i don't have to be in control all the time, and if anything, God should be the one in control anyways. not me. 

so what was once considered OCD to me does not bother me as much anymore. yes, i still have the tendency to rearrange books in bookstores and make sure that place mats are parallel to the edge of the table, but it doesn't irk me very much if i just left it as it was. there is beauty in an unorganized mess of a hamster cage. there is beauty in a sort of chaos, where things are where they are, where you left them, where memories don't ever fade because they've never been rearranged. it's really hard to explain, but finally being okay with some form of clutter or disorganization is like gaining a new perspective on the world.

i'm glad i dropped the care a little bit on how things are.

it makes me see more than just the need to constantly wanting to keeping things in place.

warm, bright, and happy.

sunflowers are my favorite flowers, and both sunflowers and the sun has been quite a significant symbol all my life. it starts with Gensomaden Saiyuki, a manga adaptation of Journey to the West, where Goku, the supposedly Monkey God, is in love with the sun. he describes Konzen's (the first person who loves him like a son) hair to be golden like the sun, shining brightly. this is one of the comics i grew up with, and i had learned a lot from it. this story is precious to me like we are to God. Goku's pure love for the sun, simply because it gives him warmth and hope, makes me smile. 

and then we have Vincent Van Gogh and his well-known 12 Sunflowers piece. Van Gogh lived a rather sad life. nobody liked him and nobody appreciated his art. he was depressed, and in the end he took his own life. what he had left for the living, and for all future generations, however, was not just his sob story. it was this piece, and many more. it was hope, light, joy, that he had left for us. he had created great masterpieces, and it was a shame for him to have died before the world realized his talents, but i would like to think that it was not much of a shame, because his works lived on, and it never stopped bringing smiles onto people's faces.

the last would be Tae Yang. now you would wonder why i'm mentioning a k-pop artist's name here. well, i had my k-pop phase, and Tae Yang was the sole reason why i even got into k-pop. Tae Yang, his stage name, means 'sun' in Korean. the reason why he had picked this name is because he hoped for his music to shine like the sun, and to give hope and warmth to people through his singing. his hardwork and determination inspired me a lot through my Form 6 years. he taught me never to give up, and his smile always made me smile in return. 

now these three things may not make a lot of sense to you, yet to me, these are precisely the things that kept me going. before i encountered God, these were the sort of hopes i tugged onto. the sun. a field of sunflowers. light and warmth meant a lot to me. i kept hoping and dreaming, because i knew the power of hope. that there will always be light. and then God finds me and i know for sure, that there is a light brighter than all lights, and a hope stronger than all hopes, which lies in Him. sunflowers remind me of warmth and light. it is a flower that faces the direction of the sunlight. it is loyal and endlessly hopeful, always seeking out the light. 

to me, i'm the sunflower and God is my sun. He guides me, and i follow. (:

that's why sunflowers are my favorite, and that's why both sunflowers and the sun mean so much to me. 

“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: 

not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” 

― C.S. Lewis

faded future.

maybe we've got a faded kind of future ahead of us. uncertain, waiting to be unraveled. maybe i'll be your next knot, your next memory. we're not sure if we should be holding hands, we're not sure if we should even be doing this together--but we take the leap of faith, together. if we fall, at least we'll still be in one another's arms. if we shatter into a million pieces, promise me you'll keep some of my fragments, and i will do the same. it's foggy, the future. but i promise i won't let go. i promise i'll try. will you put your faith in us, and say yes?

was inspired to write a really cheesy little piece while listening to Helen Jane Long's Goodnight. gentle and quiet piano pieces always get to me.