|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| things are good. things are swell. things are well.
i don't know how to put my finger on it but things are just good. okay, so maybe my marks could be better. but i'm getting back on track with piano. that's one good thing. i can sit my butt down in front of the beautiful instrument and practice one solid hour of practice. it feels so good. and i accomplish more doing that than sitting for two hours straight. family is alright, dad came back from china earlier this week and it's like we're back to normal. he really does like China. i mean it in a way where he really seems to want to go back. you know, like some people who just stay connected with their original roots. i, on the other hand, just want to know for sure that i'll be heading there myself next summer. and with who. minus family members, that is.
shrink, you are the best. did i ever mention that? i miss you.
love.
| | |
| Author's Note : I was rather irritated and if you must say, pissed off while writing this so I've obliterated a phrase or two every now and then. Just because I really shouldn't be publishing them on a public blog. And really, rants don't need to be published.
For once, I was the one sitting down, the one that I'd normally keep my eyes out for in meetings and try help bring them into the mood and into their spirit. I was the 'downer' now, and why? Because I was pulled into a meeting where well, I didn't read or sing Chinese and I did not want to be here. And probably, when this is going to be brought up later today or some time, it'd be forgotten that I had come up here to 'keep my dad happy' even if (1) I was sitting in front of him and not beside him and (2) I had simply wanted to say bye to the young people before coming up here, because I probably wouldn't see them after. It had something to do with different timing. And after all, the Chinese have a lunch up here and the English don't. Now they're singing this ridiculous song. Of course, it's not so ridiculous because we had to sing it downstairs in the English-Chinese joint meeting but in English. I still find Chinese church songs ridiculously amusing. (A.N.: Saying ridiculous ridiculously much?) I don't find any Christ of of God when I'm here. I hear no revelation nor any touching of the Spirit. What is the point? Sure, people do come here to be with the fellow brothers and sisters but in the end, we are here for God, right? I know that much. And here I am, ranting out my thoughts on paper while they pray and chant "Amen" in their joint Chinese voices. Now they've pulled out a hymn? How convenient. After all, I don't read Chinese and for once, I'm glad I don't. I probably sound like an angry child right now as they all belt out the hymn. Gosh, I'm being mean. The thing is I'm probably being really stubborn right now. And to not make it so bad, I now have the rejected hymn book on my lap and the brothers are preparing for the Lord's Table. I probably shouldn't take it today, considering how I'm feeling. It wouldn't be right and after all, it can't simply be seen as an act. As I write and all, I feel like every action, every time I look up or something, there's a pair of Chinese eyes watching me. "Whose daughter is that?" they'd most likely judge skeptically. Chinese people are the most curious and ... I'll stop myself there. It's rather interesting, writing your thoughts out on paper before actually putting them out there. As you can tell, my thoughts are quite ... well, they're not normal. I'm not looking forward to going back home but you know my dad didn't say anything when I mentioned and I had been thinking about for going to the 2nd week. That'd make it a month of being away. I really don't know what to expect either way. Will my family have expected a whole change? I learned so much these past three weeks. And ... it's all still churning in my gut. T'was a woman looking at me. Joy. I'm better now. Nothing a small and short written prayer to God couldn't help with. 'Cept my hunger.
| | |
| Our song isn't over yet, so so soon -
the last words not yet sung
its last note not yet played
we haven't cued the end
and no claps have been heard;
So don't stop right there, right now.
This should last longer than
the time we've spent already.
Our minds can pause and take a minute
our hearts can wait before the next beat
our spirits can stop before the last mile
until the running sounds each step,
blood rushing to our heads
where dizziness erases our sober state
because we haven't quite gotten there yet,
haven't quite finished what we started.
Wouldn't it be a free guilt trip if left alone?
So remember before you leave the door open
it's not yet time to shut it close -
just wait until the last words are sung
and the last notes are played.
The story will have its the end
and this chapter written and told
but for now, let the song, let our song
sing itself to sleep.
| | |
| I haven’t felt the cool breeze in so long. Is it still here? Is it still whispering its long lost sorrows of last night’s dreams, billowing ‘cross the midnight fields of emptiness, of hollowness? I can feel the cool breeze – it’s been so long, rustling the lively summer leaves, running through the meadow of grains; little seeds just eager to be blown away, tossed away by the wind, into the wind. Do you feel the cool breeze, after so long? Remembering out last encounter after dark, on that old park bench by moonlight, the fading lamp post sizzling out as you held my hand and I held yours. I’ve felt the cool breeze for so long, it has carried my memories along, through the storms not only I have had to witness; a naked eye exposed to oh , so much. I’ll let the breeze carry me away. - siLvia Li. | | |
| to whom do i owe all all these fifteen years, all these broken hearts and tear-stained pillows, all my incomplete songs and frustrated rants, the hours i've wasted doing nothing at all, the minutes i've sat watching the clock tick by, the times where i wished i wasn't alive, the nights where all i wanted to do was run away in the dark and never come back, the snowfalls that i just wanted to be standing in the midde of it, the smiles that should be cherished and never forgotten, the times like these where i have no clue what i'm saying or what point i want to prove. i owe God that much. and i want to be able to do so much for Him and for the beautiful people surrounding me. not just sit at home, hearing about all these catastrophes and horrible incidents from my parents, not just read about a murder in the paper, not just internally thank God for the people who are willing to do food shelters and soup runs. i want to be in there, i want to be included, i want to be part of it. so i want this summer to actually be. i want this to feel. i want this to breathe. i want to this to live. in me.
| | |
|