Red Blooded Passion

3-1 was the scoreline when I switched on the TV.

And when it was over, it was truly over. The floodgates opened and spectacular goals went in one after another. 8-2! We tore the Arsenal defense to shreds!

Two similar, but deadly accurate goals from Young, and we know that Fergie's next generation of fledglings is ready to snatch the championships again.

Glory to Manchester United, the club where Dreams are made of.

TaTan Tan Tan (Hum to the tune of Beethovan's 5th Symphony))

Jac, Point guard.


I walked past Wheelock Place today, and the Orange Julius outside was replaced by Garrett's. Borders is moving out. Starbucks has undergone a revamp and now looks like a chic coffeehouse.

And in the blink of an eye, it's time to take down the portrait of His Excellency S R Nathan and his wife after staring at them in schools for 12 years. It's time to usher in a new President.

Also, it's finally time for a break. 4 days in a row, after 19 days of work.

Wow. It's the dawn of a new era.

The Greatest Story Never Told

Won 2 and lost 1.

Lots of ways to write the script. So.... start now.

No wait-

Dreams, they jest.

I found myself in my old school after I fell asleep. Classmates from the secondary school appeared and we've to form a line. Hey, isn't this.. I trailed, and we were all happy to see one another again.

Ha. Secondary school. Those 'lion king' days were probably the most awkward and insecure days of my life- to date. Hello, mushroom head. But since a thicker skin have grown over this face over the last ten years, I doubt I'll ever feel so small again.

A stranger with a beautiful smile came into the dreamland. 'Why are you here?' I asked, but didn't get any answer. She sat down with me and listened to my stories on the secondary school life.

And that was my dream, before I woke up to piercing rays of sunlight and a (lovely) mother who shouted,'Late already! Late already!'

I've never been a good interpreter of dreams, or even attempted to interpret dreams. But standing in that past with my present being, it felt different.

In any case, I really don't know what the dreamt meant, but it was nice to dream of all of you again.
Sent via BlackBerry from SingTel!

The Jumpshot Project

I have a/an
- entry level Canon 550 camera
- Zoom H4n sound recorder
- Lenovo PC monitor "stolen" from my Dad hooked up to my Mac
- Final Cut
- a cheapo tripod

And all I need to do is to come up with a brilliant script on the basketball team.

Guerrilla film-making, here I come.

Walking.

I'm on the train, as we speak.

The sound of the train whisking by is making me sleepy. My eyes are getting droopy, even more so by the minute, and I can't wait to get home.

But I feel like buying green apples first. Thank God for the 24/7 Shop n Save.

Last week I had no weekends. This coming week it'll be the same. Gwen, who randomly dreamt of me, was talking to me on whatsapp, and she asked," So are you happy at your job?"

"I dunno. Just do lor." I said.

Right now, I've no idea where these will take me. And I know I'm the kind you can call 'stupid', who is willing to help at no benefits. Yup, I'm the kind who'll drive you all the way home from one corner of Singapore to the other without question.

Sometimes, I do wonder if I'm worth more than what I'm doing now.

But as Felily said, I'm immovable. So I'll just, as your tee shirt/badge/handbag says, keep calm and carry on.

I'm now walking to buy green apples. Just cos it'll make me a wee bit happier. Smiley face. :)

And then I walked out of the supermarket with cheap ice cream, ice lemon green tea and my green apples. Gonna get myself fat, and I don't really care.

Walked past the Ben and Jerry's section, which I stared at for a while, then told myself,"Let's go." I can't afford luxury these days as I count down to Hong Kong/Bali, and I don't want to be reminded that my past only exist as a memory.

Now I'm walking home. Something new, to be typing and walking, not to mention carrying a 5kg crumpler and a bag of apples, ice cream and drinks. It's nice. To be away from the ipod for a while and hear the city which is still very much awake.

Alright, I'm almost home. What do I realise out of this walk home? Life's not a sprint, and mine's certainly not a marathon.

It's a bloody odyssey.

He Hears And Answers

God sends dreams to seraphs and whatsapp to cherubs.

And they've been nothing but angels to me.

Once again, it proves that He's been listening.

For the past few weeks, I haven't been feeling the best. Moody, mopey, with the thoughts of "life sucks" swirling around. I know the main reason for me feeling that way. It's a fear, really. Fear of being alone.

(Having colleagues that quit no sooner than you learn their surname does bad things to one's mental health. Also, having no weekends to go out and meet friends is a downer.)

Yesterday night, I got a teammate to drop me off at a bus stop after training, and only after waiting for 15 minutes did I realise the usual bus has changed its route. It no longer stops at the bus stop I was at. So, I picked up my bag and walked. Could've gotten a cab, but nah, thought it would be nice to walk.

And so I did.

Along the way, I talked to The Man Upstairs. God, please, show me your vision for me. Let me hear your voice and guide me to where I should be. God, why am I behaving like an angsty teenager, with so much sadness inside of me? God, what have become of me? Why do I constantly get stuck in the past, unable to move on? And God, I know it was my own foolishness that brought all this. I know it shouldn't be on You to remove this burden, but you are so wonderful and selfless, that I know I can count on you.

As I walked, I could feel my heart swirling as I poured out my emotions.

I've never been so emotionally affected before- and it isn't because of food. It's a million and one little insignificant things which collide and burst into a huge fireball of unwanted anxiety, self-doubt and low confidence.

But I believe that He's always there. It felt like He was stretching his hand out, beckoning me. "Child, take my hand and I'll pull you out." It's just that, somehow, I've become a whiny spoilt brat. "No, Father. Let me indulge in my self-loathe. Let me feel sorry for myself for being this way."

I finished the walk home with a soft "Amen."

This morning, I woke with the same ideas in my head. I hugged my bolster tight, hoping it would transport me to yesteryear. Of course it didn't, and I went to work. Out of nowhere, Felily sent a whatsapp message.

"I dreamt of you. How are you!"

"Not so good..." and I began to lament about my black hole state. It was comforting. Joyce, too, far away in Australia, have been praying for me.

And it reaffirms the truth that He's always, always here for me. No matter what.

Maybe my blog heading "Refine me, Lord, through the flame" is really a hard process.

Pray for me, and I'll surely get through.

Amen.

We used to chase fireworks.

Now we're just chasing greens.

Render Me Hopeless.

If there was a way where video doesn't need rendering to be viewed, editors would have a life.

Yup.

I'm waiting for the darn video to be rendered. At 9plus in the night. And I must say, it knows how to take its time eh.

Oh. It's done! Great.

回家！