Youth and age, O what a vast difference!

I love this poem by Shakespeare.

"Crabbed age and youth cannot live together"
( From "The Passionate Pilgrim, XII" )

CRABBED age and youth cannot live together
Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare;
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee, youth, I do adore thee;
O! my love, my love is young:
Age, I do defy thee: O! sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.


Sometimes I wish you just would listen and understand how I feel. But you love to force your ideologies and theologies while I'm still speaking. Give me a chance.. Understand why I feel the way I feel. So much for psychology masters, huh?

Beauty That Surpasses All...

"Open your eyes, my child and see the beauty around you...Savour every moment before it fades like a lost memory..."



Up till today, I'm still thanking my dad for buying our house in Templer. The atmosphere really suits my personality. Every morning the mist appears and I'll be up either praying or writing and just watching the mist dance around the mountains. Early mornings are lovely in my area. Especially when I visit the two Thumbelinas and look for cats around my house, it has a little therapeutic effect on me.

My dad has really did up the garden although he's stopped for a while because of work. The front view of our house is really nice, now that all the weeds and monitor lizards ( EWW!!!) have been cleared. Even the house looks better with the new curtains.

Oh yeah, for those of you wondering who are the two Thumbelinas, here's a picture of them. Do you know why I love them?? Firstly, one is my favourite colour (the purple) and secondly... can you picture a baby girl that is a size of a woman's thumb sleeping in the flower? If you don't, then looks like I'm very imaginative. And thats good. I think.

Here's the reddish-pink one. Beautiful...

This is my favourite. The best among all the flowers in my house. I LOVE THE PURPLE. Its awesome. Everytime I see her, I feel so happy. I don't know why.
;-)

"For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape, give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away..."

Song Of Solomon 2:11-12

And so it bleeds...

Words cannot form
This burning pain
Scraping against the wounds
of my heart
Broken


Soothe it the rain could never
By no means of thought
Logic sleeps but the heart wakes
Groping blindly in the increasing
Silence


Idiot mouths speak
Worthless venom of speech
That our charity wrong
Immensely my heart
Hurts


Yet still I hear you singing
in the distance forming
A smile on my face
Of your assuring voice bringing
Hope


In your embrace my heart rests
My soul secured to the One above
A slow healing, a bandage wrapped
Bring forth
Peace

The Apple of Youth

C.S. Lewis is truly another author that has inspired me besides Jane Austen. I was in my sister's room the other day looking for my scissors that SHE BORROWED AND DID NOT RETURN and came across 'The Chronicles of Narnia' sitting on top of her CD player. I read the first three books two years ago but couldn't continue because of PMR. Then forgot about it until that day.

Despite SPM still going on, I took the book and started reading "The Magician's Nephew". Oh my, I was whisked into a world so beautiful that my imagination was flying off and I felt it was also a learning journey for me to explore how Lewis writes and improve mine as well. Narnia was born out of nothing. Pure Darkness until Aslan sang Narnia into life.

I just finished the first book when my handphone started playing "Remembering You" by Steven Curtis Chapman from 'The Chronicles of Narnia OST'. Just the right time. I've been having so many fresh ideas in my head (and heart) to start writing again so I prepared a special notebook for ideas and random sprinkles of inspiration that I now carry with me wherever I go until SPM is over so I can finally organize my thoughts and work the pen and paper. I really miss writing.

I still miss the nights and 4.00 ams I would spend writing under my Daffy Duck lampstand because my dad doesn't allow us to be up in such uncivilized hours. I also remember the steaming hot chocolate I would carry into my room before I started writing for the next 4 hours. I was such an active writer until SPM knocked on my door.

I can't wait to write my next masterpiece and hopefully continue Peter and Wendy's adventures together in saving Neverland from the evil Captain Hook and see Peter blush over Tiger Lily *miss that moment*

Wouldn't it be nice to write in a place like this??

Rubbish-ing!

No wonder God made us to have two ears and one mouth. My mouth gets me into trouble so I've decided to SHUT UP and talk when its really really necessary. Seriously. I detest myself sometimes for my big mouth.

Yesterday night I exploded. I screamed, cried and shouted into my towel on my bed. Dramatic, right? Thats the result of having pent-up feelings. Something I need to renounce.

I have finally found inspiration to write a story after 8 whole months since Peter Pan. I wonder how he's doing with Wendy and the Lost boys???


I wrote my first sonnet last friday. AWESOMEness...


Twilight is stupid. As well as New Moon and the rest.. What a bad way to potray "LOVE". Pfft!!!!!!


Tomorrow...I'm still thinking if I should have Pan Mee for lunch with the gang or go off alone to eat chicken rice by myself. Someone help me??

I don't know what to blog about so I'm just rubbish-ing some random stuff...


CARISSA...
GET..
A..
LIFE...

And Goliath approaches...

The day has finally come. Surprisingly I'm not at all scared and I don't feel stirred reading my friends's FB's and blogs of how scared they are. Seriously, its just another exam. With the exception that you're sitting for it in an exam hall that makes you sweat more than usual since the place where you're sitting is so far away from the fan and your papers are marked all around the country and your results can sometimes depend on the mood or emotional state of the examiners and if you fail, YOU DIE!!
Haha. Lame. *cough*

But I'm geared for it. People are praying for me and I've been praying since last year. And of course, I've been studying. I can finally look at SPM in the eye and say, "Bring it on, you scumbag!!". Sorry for my drama. Its what I do best. *dazzling smile*

Anyway, ALL THE BEST for all you SPM-ers. If you studied, good. If you didn't, God bless you.
Just look at it this way, FREEDOM is coming... are you ready for it???

Dear Jane and other ramblings

Yesterday night as I was studying, I came across my journal. I call her Jane (on acount of Jane Austen) and as I opened it and read everything that happened throughout 2009, I was amazed at how far I've come this year. My journal had almost everything: Body issues, back-bitting friends, a secret crush (that isn't so secret anymore, though I still wish it was), family conflicts, skyrocketing schoolwork, the pressure to "keep up an image", and fantasies of a writer.

I haven't written to Jane in four months seeing that my last entry date was 15 August 2009. So yesterday, I picked up my pen and started writing. Though I didn't write all the things that happened in the space of four months (yes, A LOT of things happened) but I will eventually.

Writing, for me, is therapeutic. Its like all the solutions to my problems are all in my mind and I just have to organise every data and pour it out on paper and POOF!! The solution appears and my troubles are gone. And I didn't need to confide in anyone. But there are times that I need a second person's input so that I'm not being destructive or whatever. Plus, writing helps me see a different perspective. And I release my emotions a lot.

Thats why I've been writing so many poems and sonnets! Yes, even sonnets!
Writing helps me to also come to terms with myself. Helps me forgive myself and understand why I feel the way I feel. Though there are times that I really can't understand myself.

No wonder I think I'm a weird person.
Cause I don't know of anyone else who feels this way. Okay, except Weijean. She probably understands.

"Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Write, for example,

The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings...''

Pablo Neruda - Tonight I can write -


"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say"
~Anaïs Nin