Great, Big Smile.

-SmiLe- =)

淘汰

Stumbling upon this song today, its lyrics soon wove their lil web in my subconsciousness.
只能说我输了
I can only concede defeat
也许是你怕了
Perhaps you're afraid
我们的回忆没有皱褶
Nary a wrinkle perforates our memories
你却用离开烫下句点
Yet you flatly iron them out by leaving.
只能说我认了
I can only resign myself to fate
你的不安赢得你信任
Your fears overshadow the trust you've planted
我却得到你安慰的淘汰
And thus I, have been eliminated.陈奕迅 - 淘汰

Excuses.

Haven't we heard enough of them?

When was the last time You did something for Yourself because You wanted to, instead of accomodating others and shelving plans because You'd wanted to be the sacrificial lamb, of championing a noble cause and hence, embrace martyrhood in the land of No Time?

Excuses - we conveniently nestle within them with putrid innundation, reportedly lacerating and wallowing.

Aggrandized patois aside, what purpose do Excuses serve?

Opportunity gives you the slip and ere long, trumpery precedes triumph.

Excuses.

Self-restraint.

Impediment, far from catapulting towards success, augments recurring defeats stemming from the waste of time concocting Excuses for oneself.

Bin them, Trash them, Decimate them. Do what you will for Life is a rudimentary lesson of living for oneself.

And so, with Time, the vestige of Excuses in their inert element, shall be weeded out.

No Longer Feeling...

Blue.
Tee Hee! =) =) =)

Free Fall.

1, 2, 3,
*Free fall*

If Only. Perhaps.

I was going to...
I had plans.
I bought the necessary items and lugged home 4 large bags.
I thought....

But now,
Why?

Breathing, to expel the sadness within.

This little game that we play -
Of watching the carousel rise and fall
As days, months and years slip away
Someday, it could be Me after all.

And if that day should come
When my wait would end
To nestle within your palm,
Sketching through the shifting sand.

Might it? Could it? Would it be?
I know not, for it's not Me.

Counting Down to Tuesday! =)

Sporting A Fringe After 16 Years...

....that lasted a mere day!

13 Feb, Sat

14 Feb, Sun
Valentine's @ Sheraton.

Which hairstyle do you prefer?
With a fringe or without?

Tenses.

My dream.

My reality.

Is, Are, Was, Were, Am and to Be.

For whom, of what, to Me.

As Always.

As always, I have.

M.2.M.

You stay a little while,
And touch me with Your smile...

Let me inside.
Make me stay right beside You. =)

[ M2M - Pretty Boy ]

This Day.

Sail where the sky thus meets the sea.
A lil Happiness to share in turn with me.
So come You shall and smile will I.
Speak not of words but eye to eye.

Me. =)

Shall We?

Hey, You.

Pretty Kitten is tired of running.

Are You?

Come, take a seat on the cloud and float away.

Let's be Happy together, shall we?

Chapter 2: The Torn Nest Is Pierced by the Thorns.

My Chapter could not be more apt than being mapped in George Elliot's words. Such lingual tenacity. Brilliant.
There is something sustaining in the very agitation that accompanies the first shocks of trouble, just as an acute pain is often a stimulus, and produces an excitement which is transient strength. It is in the slow, changed life that follows; in the time when sorrow has become stale, and has no longer an emotive intensity that counteracts its pain; in the time when day follows day in dull, unexpectant sameness, and trial is a dreary routine,--it is then that despair threatens; it is then that the peremptory hunger of the soul is felt, and eye and ear are strained after some unlearned secret of our existence, which shall give to endurance the nature of satisfaction.

This time of utmost need was come to Maggie, with her short span of thirteen years. To the usual precocity of the girl, she added that early experience of struggle, of conflict between the inward impulse and outward fact, which is the lot of every imaginative and passionate nature; and the years since she hammered the nails into her wooden Fetish among the worm-eaten shelves of the attic had been filled with so eager a life in the triple world of Reality, Books, and Waking Dreams, that Maggie was strangely old for her years in everything except in her entire want of that prudence and self-command which were the qualities that made Tom manly in the midst of his intellectual boyishness. And now her lot was beginning to have a still, sad monotony, which threw her more than ever on her inward self.

It was piteous to see the comely woman getting thinner and more worn under a bodily as well as mental restlessness, which made her often wander about the empty house after her work was done.

Yet amidst this helpless imbecility there was a touching trait of humble, self-devoting maternity, which made Maggie feel tenderly toward her poor mother amidst all the little wearing griefs caused by her mental feebleness.

She would let Maggie do none of the work that was heaviest and most soiling to the hands, and was quite peevish when Maggie attempted to relieve her from her grate-brushing and scouring: "Let it alone, my dear; your hands 'ull get as hard as hard," she would say; "it's your mother's place to do that. I can't do the sewing--my eyes fail me." And she would still brush and carefully tend Maggie's hair, which she had become reconciled to, in spite of its refusal to curl, now it was so long and massy. Maggie was her pet child, and, in general, would have been much better if she had been quite different; yet the womanly heart, so bruised in its small personal desires, found a future to rest on in the life of this young thing, and the mother pleased herself with wearing out her own hands to save the hands that had so much more life in them.

But the constant presence of her mother's regretful bewilderment was less painful to Maggie than that of her father's sullen, incommunicative distance.

Maggie had felt the strong tide of pitying love almost as an inspiration, a new power, that would make the most difficult life easy for his sake; but now, instead of childlike dependence, there had come a taciturn, hard concentration of purpose, in strange contrast with his old vehement communicativeness and high spirit; and this lasted from day to day, and from week to week, the dull eye never brightening with any eagerness or any joy.

It is something cruelly incomprehensible to youthful natures, this sombre sameness in middle-aged and elderly people, whose life has resulted in disappointment and discontent, to whose faces a smile becomes so strange that the sad lines all about the lips and brow seem to take no notice of it, and it hurries away again for want of a welcome. "Why will they not kindle up and be glad sometimes?" thinks young elasticity. "It would be so easy if they only liked to do it."

And these leaden clouds that never part are apt to create impatience even in the filial affection that streams forth in nothing but tenderness and pity in the time of more obvious affliction.Source:
The Mill On The Floss
George Elliot

Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust.

Genesis 3:19 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

Through the viewing hall, grave miens passed in sombre silence, relieved by the occasional cough.

Just as it was wheeled into its rightful place, clouds gathered in deep folds and draped gloom within defined parameters. Hushed whispers foliated and scattered bleakly in response.

Amidst the onlookers, emotions swung aloft at immeasurable heights.

Yet, the Little Girl was strangely void of such.

As her heart throbbed with her existence, it yielded a dull repose, obscured by stills of her childhood reeling furiously in cognizance.

Soon, it was over.

The Deed was done.

And as her stride refreshed its pace, the azure sky possessed a considerable fancy.

The Little Girl had grown up.

Again.

爸，你回来了。

• 1986 •

The Little Girl had always wondered how This Day would be.

And today, reality mapped out in the very way that she had feared.

In a flash, she saw her childhood flit before her eyes.

A cheeky grin. That thick mop of hair.

The cold, stationary figure before her had nary a trace of such.

Who was this?

Who was He?

A glance at the pink card cemented the stark truth.

The Little Girl signed the necessary documents, pursing her lips lest they betrayed what was repressed.

5 February, 5 AM.

It had been ten years.

爸，你回来了。

Bye, Pa.

Dear Pa,

All these years,

Why?

They rang incessantly.

Yet, I never got to say Goodbye.

Bye, Pa.

Perforations of the Mind.

What If?

What Is?

Worry.....Not.

Mere minutes ago, I was fraught with worry over an issue. Instinctively, I turned to Our Daily Bread and I know that the kinks will be resolved.

The misconception that God is a magician whose wand dissipates entanglements can be alluring to some. However, what the following analogy depicts transcends beyond mere magic. It requires self-discipline. God helps those who help themselves. So equipped with Faith, Initiative and Wisdom, God will guide me through the parched land. As always.

Like A Tree
READ: Ephesians 4:11-16

“He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water. — Psalms 1:3”

In the quietness of my final years I plan to watch a tree grow—a birch tree I planted as a tiny sapling over 30 years ago. It stands now in mature splendour, just outside our picture window—beautiful in every season of the year.

So it is with our spiritual endeavours: We may have planted, watered, and fussed over our “saplings” (those we’ve mentored) for a time, but only God can make a “tree.”

Occasionally I hear from those I ministered to years ago, and discover to my delight that they have grown to maturity and have been greatly used of God — with no help from me. It’s a gentle reminder that I plant and water for a while, and help others “grow up in all things into Him who is the head — Christ” (Eph. 4:15). But only God “gives the increase” (1 Cor. 3:6-7).

German theologian Helmut Thielicke writes, “The man who doesn’t know how to let go, who is a stranger to quiet, confident joy in Him who carries out His purposes without us (or also through us or in spite of us), in Him who makes the trees grow . . . that man will become nothing but a miserable creature in his old age.”

So, at my age, I may yet tend a sapling or two, but mostly I will let go and watch them grow. — David H. Roper• A Prayer •
Lord, I want to be used by You in others’ lives. Teach me from Your Word so that I can help others follow You. And enable me to let go and trust You to work in them. Amen.

Lesson #101.

- where boxes and their corresponding lids are sold separately.

Or at least that's what my receipt churned. The cost of lids accounted for 1/3 (or 33.33%) of my total expenditure.

That's the first and the last time I'm buying storage boxes (or anything else) from said location.

"Because We're The Most Trusted Name In News."

Preamble by Keith Olbermann at MSNBC [Transcript]

It's not every day that the head of a cable news network appears on TV to give credence to the claim that his network lies... by lying himself... so transparently that common sense alone gives him away.

Universe, Roger Ailes. Roger Ailes, universe.

The Fox News super genius appeared on ABC's "This Week" as part of the roundtable... and fellow panelist Arianna Huffington, our guest presently... called on Ailes to answer for the damage his network does to the country.

Ailes, claiming that bad blood between his network and the White House is now largely past... also claimed that Glenn Beck when he said that people are **going** to be killed--future tense... he was talking about Hitler and Stalin... who, of course, are dead.

CLIP:

HUFFINGTON: Aren't you concerned about the language that Glenn Beck is using, which is, after all, inciting the American people? There is a lot of suffering out there, as you know, and when he talks about people being slaughtered, about who is going to be the next in the killing spree...

AILES: Well, he was talking about Hitler and Stalin slaughtering people. So I think he was probably accurate. Also, I'm a little....

HUFFINGTON: No, no, he was talking about this administration.

AILES: I don't -- I think he speaks English. I don't know, but I mean, I don't misinterpret any of his words. He did say one unfortunate thing, which he apologized for, but that happens in live television. So I don't think it's -- I think if we start going around as the word police in this business, it will be...

END CLIP
"Word police," of course, is what Fox calls what everyone else calls journalists... editors and producers who, yes, police even the words I am reading to you now... to ensure, say... relative fairness and comparable accuracy.

Today, Beck said, quote, "If I used the word 'slaughtered' it wasn't in a context of Mao, Stalin or Hitler, it was in the idea that the truth is being slaughtered by this administration. Not saying that the administration is going to slaughter anyone."

CLIP

BECK: And when you see the effects of what they're doing to the economy, remember these words: "We will survive." No, we'll do better than survive. We will thrive, as long as these people are not in control. They are taking you to a place to be slaughtered.

END CLIP
I guess that wasn't English. Ailes's disdain for "word police", not only a slur against whomever at Fox still considers themselves journalists, but also explaining why he sees his goal not as journalism but as ratings, as you'll see in a moment.

Warning: If your head is fragile it may explode from his argument that when the president met with the GOP, Fox stopped covering it... because Fox is trusted, because Fox covers everything.

CLIP

AILES: I'm not in politics, I'm in ratings. We're winning.

HUFFINGTON: Roger, you clearly are in ratings, but if you are in ratings, can you explain to me why FOX went away from the meeting the president was having in -- why did you go away, 20 minutes before the end?

AILES: Because we're the most trusted name in news.

HUFFINGTON: OK and on that note...

WALTERS: I thought we were the most trusted name in news.

AILES: And we believe two liberal polls have now proven it. And the reason is we cover everything.

END CLIP
The "trust" claim, referencing a new poll in which a plurality says it trust Fox News, more than other news outlets... (apparently lumping MSNBC in with NBC).

Source : Huffington Post

Peppy.

" Happy (sha-la-la)
It's so nice to be Happy. "

[ Alexia - Happy ]

A Glimpse Into Squalor.

Dear God,

You know my thoughts.

Innocuous as it seems, I know now that I don't just want to do the Right Thing but to strive for what is GOOD.

Recently, much has culminated and were I to count them, such incredulous coincidences stack up against conventional logic and rationale.

These tides sweep into my life as if on cue, over and over again.

Of which, God? Of which?

If This bears fruit then why does That appear on a golden platter despite and regardless?

If That were to be ordained, then, pray, what is the meaning of This?

Wisdom & Discernment.

Dithering offers neither.

Dear God, You know my thoughts.

Now help Me to decide my actions.

Amen.

Did You Ever Talk To God Above?

Did You ever talk to God above?
Tell Him that You need a friend to love.
Pray in Jesus' name believing that God answers prayers.
Have you told Him all your cares and woes?
Every tiny little fear He knows
You can know He'll always hear and He will answer prayers.

You can whisper in a crowd to Him
You can cry when you're alone with Him
You don't have to pray aloud to Him.
He knows Your thoughts.

On a lofty mountain peak He's there.
In a meadow by a stream He's there.
Everywhere on Earth you go, He's been there from the start.

Find the answer in His word, it's true.
You'll be strong because He walks with you.
By His faithfulness, He'll change you too.
God answers prayers.

Growing Old.

"It could be so nice growing old with You."
[Adam Sandler]

Enchanted By The Enchanting.

I dreamt of being on a huge ship with pretty lil white yachts and boats around me.

See the enchanting boat above?

Daniel's heading to Maldives and he's going to be on it.

This lovely white boat has been embedded in my subconsciousness.

Beautiful, ain't it? =)

Gratified.

Gratified.

In the span of 3 hours (3am-6am), Perfectionist Mich has organized her bursting wardrobe of 300+ items of clothing according to

• occasion
• colour
• type (jeans, shorts, mini skirts, tubes, togas, dresses, T-shirts, etc)

Tackling the task translated into bucketloads of sweat, patience and determination.

Besides, it was therapeutic.

Phew! ~

Mich Loves....

• walking along the beach.
• feeling the wind in her hair.
• sitting by the beach and talking.
• lying on the sand.
• watching the twinkling blanket above.
• gazing into the distance.
• imagining the lights on faraway ships are candles.
• dreaming of clouds that flitter by.

Above all, it wouldn't be complete without

• You.