Tackling time

 

Time seems to fly when you are enjoying it. That’s true, but only to a certain extent. My experience dictates a different story. Time seems to fly faster when you are kept occupied by every minute of it, whether or not the activity takes place physically or in the head, we turn a blind oblivion to the rapid passing of time. As mentioned, what seems may not be actuality, time is a mere relative term, an imaginary surreal, which attributes to why I am always enthralled by it.

What’s your take?

Renewal

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Image heavy

In school.

Vinci, pronounced as vin-see. 

Lex, your market value dipped by a dozen.

Dora pencil case. Suan Fong and Pris, I used it!

In Ren Ting’s house.

That’s Phoebe.

What does her face reveal? Greed.

“Jingwen & I” series.

Commerical break. Can you guess the show being broadcasted?

Continuation of the “Jingwen & I” series.

End of nonsense. Start of something revolutionary – Teaching.

(I take back my words, perhaps not!) High technology shepherding.

End of shepherding, hooray!

How was your friday, was it good?

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Perhaps this is the reason why I thought my Friday was good, (not because it is Good Friday which by the way is way more significant than what you take it off at face value), but because I got to spend it with my parents. We manage to hit off the conversations rather well, especially my Mum and I, compared to a few years back when I simply found it hard to even find a common topic to talk about.

My Dad drove us to the flat early in the morning at around 93o. The new house feels like my old house because the design is almost the same, just more spacious. If you are interested to know how it looks like, (though unfurnished and uncompleted), please take out your shoes and place it at the doorsteps. Thereafter you may proceed and follow along as I bring you around the house (in a non-synchronised manner).

Here’s my room. Thank God, it’s no longer pink.

Ceiling fan, which every room has. Boring, huh?

View from my room – The stadium which Fandi Ahmad once set his foot upon and all its grandeur, will soon be demolished. ):

I can peep into my neighbours’ house, cool!

My mirror’s secret hideout. (I just realised the empty space above the wardrobe is so ugly! Gonna buy some treasure boxes from IKEA to fill the gaps.)

Here’s the Living Hall, with the ceiling fan on slow spin in redemption and TV.

Here’s the messy and undone kitchen, which colour combination is almost the same as my previous’.

Uh, TV.

I have a lot of neighbours, within my reach. When my house is on arson, my neighbours would be very well informed.

Bought these snacks from the very cheap provision shop opposite my place!

My Dad’s first try at fiddling with Honey.

My Mum. I told her I just realised she bears an uncanny resemblance of my brother! She chided me and told me that my brother bears an uncanny resemblance of her.

Here’s how my Brother looks like. HAHA. She lost a lot of weight. That’s unfair.

Bittergroud soup – It was a bittersweet sensation.

Claypot Rice

Everyone wants to touch Honey – Charmaine and I (ugly hair).

Professional scooper – Dad at work. By the way, Happy 48th (?) Birthday!

Maternal relatives who came to crash.

The 160 odd P6 cousin who towers over me.

Relishing my childhood memories – I use to love this when I was young(er)!

Walk around IKEA with my Mum – The convenience of technology. It’s for my own reference so skip the next 3 pictures! I want a mogu, not mushroom, any idea where to get them?

Last station, dessert. Now all the markets and food centres look like this. Somehow I still prefer the traditional wet markets and hawker, it’s more… Sentimental! Weird enough, the taste of the food varies with the environment, at least in my sense.

Good Friday, everyone!

Antidote to Hurt

Hurt may be replaced by hate, stress, cramps or whatever negative connotations. 

#1. Love.
It could be conditional.

 

#2. Give.
And it will come back to you.
I prove this hypothesis true! All you have to do is to loan someone your PE shirt.

#3. Chocolates.
The returns of giving. 

To give a brief update about my academic life, I reckon I am adapting well, despite the humungous struggle to understand Chemistry. On the other hand, that could be only temporal because we have only gone into 1 week of the term, so it might be too early to discern. I will attempt not to sow discords by publicly declaring my love for that subject in detail, because it is only one topic (Atoms, Moles and Stoichiometry) which makes my blood boil so I would do my best to avoid being stereotypical. Nonetheless, it is inevitable that sarcasm spills at different lines on this blog that you are reading, which thus indirectly antagonise the whole point. On a side note, this attributes to the reason why I love this language – you get to play around with words and con readers into wasting time deciphering the point you are trying to make.

Before I left for home, I was telling Alisa that the commodity which my eyes are currently fixated to, and fingers fiddling with, will serve not to be a distraction, but the moment I reached home procastination sinks in. The plenty of leeway that I have could have bought me a completed set of graded Chemistry Assignment (which would be due the next day) but I failed miserably to let my convictions prevail.

On a lighter note, I thank God for the class that He has put me into. The environment is exactly what I needed. I would not say it is exactly muggerish, like I mentioned earlier it could be still early to tell, but I enjoy the inquisitiveness of the classmates, as well as their jovial side when they are off their books. They work hard, they play hard. I feel at ease whenever I am around them. I don’t fret clarifying my doubts like how I used to.

Let me indulge in escapism for a little longer, I promise I will not take long.

I think I am done.

Thank you for reading. I realise there are quite a number of mystery readers of this blog, reveal yourself!

Addictions

I am not sure if I have found the remedy, but I am willing to share snippets of my discovery with you. 

Why can’t I talk to boys?
There is nothing wrong with talking to boys, but if you realise that it becomes an addiction, then it is not healthy.
Why is it not healthy?
Like all other addictions, drugs, drinking, etc, they make you love God less.

“Anything that cools my love for Christ is the world.” – John Wesley

Imagine your heart as a theater containing many seats. A ticket is assigned to each seat and may be sold to whomever will buy that particular seat. Who holds the tickets to the seats in your heart? Does the pursuit of money have a seat? Does the desire for success and popularity have a seat? How about a particular relationship? What seat does Jesus have a ticket to? Does He occupy one? Many? None? Or, is every seat in your heart sold out to Jesus?