mydelirium333

My thought process:

You're becoming cold towards me, or pretend to not care (are you trying to erect an image of independence?) + you seem to want things to be done your way/to create and win arguments, even about trivial matters + conversations with you have been brief and shallow at best (are you merely keeping up appearances?) = Bad bad feelings and thoughts (I don't wish to expound) + what's going on?

I don't like things to feel this way. I don't know if what I feel is what you feel, but I don't like it being there. I don't like drama, and I want to live a quiet, peaceful life with no drama, but it seems to follow me like a shadow. It feels like a battle, like a competition that I don't even have any intention of winning. And I want to be nice. I try to be nice. I even thought it was going okay, then things changed. I analyse and over-analyse. No no I don't want to turn this into another lesson on philosophy or theology. I just need to say that things between us are not the same, I didn't think we'd ever reach this stage, and heck, maybe we haven't! But perhaps as a result of my analysing and over-analysing and thinking thinking thinking, these negative emotions just build up, and it feels like something I never thought I'd feel towards you, or anyone. Its a dark, oppressive shade that I suffocate in when I think about it. Does everything have to be like this? Is it my fault it's like this? Should I stop thinking and maybe then I'll be nicer, and then maybe you'll be nicer? I don't like the way you're responding. But a part of me feels like you're still trying too. That same part hopes also for the old you to return, the warmer you.

Okay, I think I have come to a point where I can say in all sincerity that I'm sorry. For whatever. I don't even really know myself. But this is unnecessary. This pressure, this unpleasant creature. So maybe it all starts with this? I'm sorry for things that I'm not aware of, but that maybe you are. For maybe because of me, it's like this. Maybe you feel alright. Maybe you don't feel anything. Maybe 'it's not you, it's me'. *shrugs*

I will make this public. Perhaps putting this entry on a pedestal as such would boost its value. But I think the same can't be said of our friendship. I will keep trying to be nice. I will keep trying not to think bad things. Bad things are... bad. I will seek to honour and to love. But God help me, because it's not possible, not since I'm under the influence of my own (true/false) inferences [top].

If you're reading this and you think this refers to you, please don't take it all the wrong way. This entry was more a form of catharsis, and also an apology. If you think this isn't for you, you could try asking me, but I probably won't tell. I said I was gonna try and honour didn't I?

Goodnight, love you ALL.

I fell out of my IPPT on Tuesday. I was 200m away from the finish line when I started puking all over and feeling faint. So i decided my life was more important than getting a gold and $200. I stopped, and walked back to the start point with some assistance.

I was disappointed but, not for long. Because God assured me He was very pleased, knowing that I did it all for Him and nothing else. I don't give a shit about the money or the badge or the prestige. I just want to give my best to Him and give Him the highest glory. Turns out, I did, through another medium as well.

I had a friend - Nicholas - whom the night before was suffering from a sharp pain in a hip joint of his. He agreed to let me pray for him, on the condition that I didn't do it too loudly (which I didn't mind too much. Though I'd love to have him hear it). He needed to get a silver at least, so that he need not retake it. He was worried silly. On IPPT day he got his silver, and I thank God for that. His pain did not deter him, and God delivered as usual.

Also on that Tuesday, another friend of mine, Leonard, hasn't yet passed his IPPT for his second year. He used to run a gold standard, but over the past year he has had recurrent heartburns whenever he ran. So it was something he's been bummed about for a long time. He agreed to let me pray for him before the run. I prayed for strength, and that he'd finally pass. He then went on to pass for the first time in almost a year. He was grateful, and so am I. Seeing how God works - even in subtle ways like these - in the lives of people who don't actually know Him brings me such hope and faith that they will one day be shown Who our Lord truly is. Slowly but surely He is revealing Himself. There is so much reason for joy in this world!

So in light of all this, I don't care if don't pass my IPPT. I've seen God move and work. His hand orchestrated every circumstance to turn out the way they did. Yes, I have to retake my IPPT, but what a small price to pay for the privilege of witnessing His goodness. If I have to faint and puke at every IPPT I take, and if because of my presence at that place and time I get to see lives touch by Jesus, please, I'd want to faint and puke every time and keep on retaking. Hahaha but I know our Lord is a gracious Lord and He will have mercy on my poor stomach and brain.

On the 19th I will retake my IPPT, on the 19th I will once again give my everything, and on the 19th and every other day, I anticipate His wonders and His power manifested on the lives around me and my own. Open these our eyes, Lord.

Sooo into this band right now.



Just listen, don't watch the video it sucks. Hahaha.

Dear Dennis,

I just thought it was about time I wrote you a letter concerning what you have been struggling with for so long. I will not sugarcoat what I have to say, because, well, I have to say these things! These words come from love. And you should know better than anyone what that is. 

So far, you think you've got it right. You've had this before - you tried to forget someone, forget her actions and her words that always had the effect of making your day alright, like you found a chest of perfect emotions that you've been looking for all your life. But that's just what they are - perfect emotions. I don't mean to offend you by this, but you do understand that I know things, don't you?

You tried to forget the good things, because you knew that they would only bring you more sadness. There is a difference between sorrow and sadness. Sorrow can come about from just about anywhere, for any reason, even kindled by the unknown. But when you feel sadness, you always know exactly where it took root. Sadness always has a background, it always has a history. Sadness is your old friend you forget at first and then make up with with an inexplicable eagerness every time you two meet. You don't even know why, but sometimes, it's the only emotion you want to feel, just now. Sure, you can talk to me about feeling. I am quite well-acquainted with it.

You tried and are still trying to forget the good things, her beauty in all its entirety, that which dances in her hair, and her veins. Her eyes, and her soul. That which dances a rhythm that emanates from her being and resonates perfectly with the rhythm of your heartbeat. That felt good didn't it? Every time you saw her coming toward you, every time your eyes met hers, every time you touched her, every time she touched you, every time you saw her lips move and took in the sweet melody it composed. I know all of this. I know how you feel.

I'm sorry, you were supposed to be forgetting these things. Yes it may feel alright now. But you know it won't last. You've been through this before. You know better than to take this state of contentment for granted. Or rather, our brother Miles would know this. Be grateful for him. He has been helping you prevent countless rash actions you were on the verge of causing. 

Alright, I shall continue another time. Don't let that chest take you in too deep, dear brother. Emotions are beautiful (quite possibly one of the most beautiful things we are capable of perceiving), but sometimes they are our blackest of enemies.

Rest well tonight. Talk to me if you ever feel like acting on an emotional impulse (you can be so prone to that). Or if you ever need help.

Love,
Neumann

-

Hello. You're probably wondering what the heck it was I just wrote. I just felt inspired to start writing some fiction all of a sudden. Everything here is tentative (I'm trying to come up with a good title, which you can help with!). If you find the language of this letter a little strange, that's because it isn't exactly a normal letter. I'm not gonna give anything else away muahahaha. I hope it's mysterious and ambiguous enough to make you want to keep reading. Maybe this will turn into a book? I have no idea how it will turn out yet, or exactly what themes I'm seeking to present through this yet, but I believe God will bring me clarity as I continue. 

I'm open to suggestions/opinions! Cut me a bit of slack though, I have never written any form of fiction at all  since my O's ended in 2004 hehehe. That's a 5-year hiatus. But okay, honesty is awesome too. Hahaha. Thanks! (:

Sometimes we live too long in black & white.

I will not focus on my troubles. The devil's works do not deserve my attention. They are not worthy of selah. All the fear, anxiety, dread, insecurity, hopelessness, sickness  - I will not meditate on them. Whatever that is bound on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever that is loosed on earth will be loosed in heaven. So I claim this truth and bind these spirits in the name of Jesus, and loose the Spirit of love, truth, life, identity & security in our Lord, peace, courage, justice, healing & restoration to take their place in my life right now. Lord, I come to You now in obedience and surrender. Your will be done and Your Kingdom come. I love You. Amen. 

You will eventually turn into what you constantly meditate on, I once heard.

In my camp there's a huge sign that says 'Victory Unto Victory'. That's about the thing I like best about my camp. Amen to that, SAF.  

-

Overcome

All authority, every victory is Yours
All authority, every victory is Yours

Saviour, worthy of honour and glory
Worthy of all our praise
You overcame

Jesus, awesome in power forever
Awesome and great is Your name
You overcame

We will overcome
By the blood of the Lamb
And the word of our testimony
Everyone, overcome!

-

Spend some time, now and continually, thinking about areas in your life where God had helped you overcome. Praise Him and give Him glory for all that! (: He truly is Lord of all, our Mighty Deliverer, in whom we have every victory.

I don't know how many of you know, but the reason I included the three 3's in my addresses, is because 3 is a number that signifies perfection, and '3' also for me, to signify the Holy Trinity. Two days ago I read this. It explains very well a little more on this number's symbolism:

'To say that God is holy is to say that He is set apart, distinct from us. And because of His set apart-ness, there is no way we can ever fathom all of who He is. To the Jews, saying something three times demonstrated its perfection, so to call God "Holy, Holy, Holy" is to say that He is perfectly set apart, with nothing and no one to compare Him to. That is what it means to be "holy".

Many Spirit-filled authors have exhausted the thesaurus in order to describe God with the glory He deserves. His perfect holiness, by definition, assures us that our words can't contain Him. Isn't it a comfort to worship a God we cannot exaggerate?'

Taken from 'Crazy Love' by Francis Chan

-

Here are two very significant verses to me. It's interesting where they are found:

'Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.'
Jeremiah 33:3

This verse speaks about revelation. It's something I am always praying for - for myself and those around me - and believe is one of my gifts (we all have this gift, if we've the Holy Spirit in us) that the Lord and I want me to grow in.

'Sing to Him a new song; play skillfully and shout for joy.'
Psalm 33:3

This verse speaks about worship. It's particularly applicable to me because of my calling as a worshipper and a minister through the arts, which includes of course, music. 

-

So being in Kuala Lumpur, the past three days has been a refreshment for me. With God revealing a little more of Himself each day. There were about ten cars we saw during those few days the number plates of which said '333'. There were adverts we had come across in the street and newspapers with '333' in it. There were even people whom I walked past wearing tees that said nothing but '333'! And all this happened within a short span of two and a half days.

Other than that, a non-'3' related sign was glory dust on my hands each morning. The second morning was heavier than the first. They looked thick enough to sweep off so I tried but it didn't work hahaha. Strange colours though. There was the usual silver, the colour of which most of the dust was, then there was some bronze. The second morning, green was added to the mix. I never got bronze before so that one was cool. Anyone can educate me a bit on colour symbolism for my strange dust colours please? Thanks! (:

So what did these signs mean? His message was simple: He wanted to show my family that He was with us, even in such a Godless city as KL (Yes, that's what I felt it was. Experienced very heavy spiritual oppression while I was there. More in some places than others. One house I walked past just spoke of so much grief, I held back my tears and just prayed in tongues and for blessing and salvation for them. Walking those streets was not something easy to do, honestly. Felt weighed down a lot, to say the least. But 'revived' every time He spoke.). 

So in response to my previous Emo Boy post, this trip to KL has been thoroughly refreshing and satisfying, both to my soul AND my stomach. A big thank you to all of you who have supported me during my short stint at Emo-dom (you know who you are. Every word you said did count)! (: I will be seeing you guys later today. Going to my cousin's birthday celebration after service though. So won't join you guys for dinner, so so so sadly... mostly, for you guys :P Hahaha kidding ok. Meesasadboutittoooooo!

Noodgight to you.

Heart yearns
Stomach churns
A desire to disgorge
What has for too long been in

Body dies
Spirit cries
And motion gives up on you
In the end

Beautiful sea
Encompasses me
Where neither care
Nor anxiety be

This stream, it separates me
From the dam that enervates me 
And I sit here waiting
For something to happen

-

You know, it's amazing what you can come up with if you just type without consciously thinking whether or not you're making sense. I find such liberation, such freedom in expressing myself like this, and in a cool way, I get to perhaps be made vaguely aware of some things that are going on in my subconscious, as I write it out. (Wasn't sure whether to use sub- or un-conscious. But I'll just stick with sub-. Un- seems... like I've fainted and then wrote all this.) I don't quite understand all that I've wrote but I guess some of it makes sense, or at least from some of it sensible interpretations or ideas can be derived.

It comforts me to know that the subconscious part of my mind is one that likes to create as well. But just that it seems a little more surreal and experimental than I (my conscious mind).

What's this about the familiar? It's what sticks to you that someone else - voluntarily or not - has shown (or thrown to) you. Like a gift? Yes, something like that. Only received unwrapped in all its raw splendour, with or without your consent, sometimes very forcefully. And that it's sticky.

But who cares, right? When was the last time someone took an interest in the matters you think so much about that... no, wait. When was the last time you took an interest in the matters concerning the heart of another; the matters which have gone stale from lack of attention; matters of which have lost their meaning and of which even the possessor himself had gradually lost interest in because of that lack?

Sometimes I feel like I'm thinking for nothing; writing for no one. These words are like lines and shapes formed in the sand, only to fade as everything is blown back into that conformity which most of this world has deemed 'normal'. Am I crazy? I could very well be. Or perhaps everyone else is. Which brings me to...

'The Depravity of the Human Condition' - A topic deep with insights (probably or perhaps yet undiscovered) in which I have a vested interest, and which, judging from so many expressions demonstrative of nothing but naivety and shallowness ('Oh, feeling superior, are we?' Shut up, you) I see around me every single day, has grown stale and like the figures and shapes in the sand, will soon fade. Why do I think about it? I don't know. But I seem to be suffering from its corruptive grasp. And I just need to find out a little more about it so maybe one day, I'll be able to defeat it. 

Aren't we all depraved, us humans?

I'm sorry, but sometimes I can't care anymore. People think I'm crazy. They've told me so. Why? Because I have such a passion to know what goes on inside everyone, and to find out how I can fight this hereditary corruption, and I am just so sick of giving in to it. I want so bad to have Christ come and invade every one of us all. Yes, I have Jesus Christ, you know? The Being to which all authority in heaven and on earth has been given. Yes, I can defeat the corruption. We all can! I need to get it inside my head that it is the human nature in me that is corrupted and depraved, not me. It's not me!

[I'm almost talking in circles. It's 3.27am, guys. Forgive me. I told you I just needed to write, write?]

What's the point of my post? Why ask me? I'm not the one writing it. Whoa, now how's that for contradiction?

This is just me thinking aloud in the hours of twilight. I have an active mind, I am a light sleeper. Let me tell you that that is not a good combination.

So yes, in the eyes of the world, I am crazy. My human nature seems to be the only aspect of me that makes sense in this derelict and barren desert of normalcy. Everything else I do or say - where 'I' refers to who I really am, my soul, my spirit - gets blown away by the wind, or if by supernatural intervention (a miracle) it happens to remain long enough for a man of the desert to glance at and be thus cast into a whole new whirlwind of revelations and encounters of the Divine nature, it becomes buried under the earth and inside that man's heart; it becomes a seed; invisible but not powerless, merely a subcutaneous, gradually-unraveling manifestation of God's Word, like a truth-injected ball of yarn. It has staked claim the area (including the man's heart) upon which the Word was initially written, or spoken. And we all know that seeds will grow.

-

When will I get to see you again? It's been a while, huh. Some leave, and I let them. But not you. I just hope I won't have to beckon you back in, bearing that modicum of hope that you had never left in the first place. Are you hiding? My arms don't span very wide, but my embrace isn't directly proportionate to its width. I will gladly receive you. Though try as I might, my arms can't stay open for too long. 

-

Goodnight everyone. I may not have made sense to you tonight, but I'm certain I've made sense to me.

-

'It's not you, it's me...'                                                                Charming.

Draw the first thing that comes to mind when you see what the previous person drew.

I was thinking if it were possible to do a word jam.

Or maybe by yourself. Just writing without thinking. Not even if it'd be something you wouldn't want to write because it shows a different side of you; or a side of you that you'd like to keep secret out of embarrassment. Maybe that'd be cool, then you'd know what you're un- or sub-consciously thinking. I dunno...

I guess the word jam when played with friends could work without having to write, rather, having the words/phrases spoken.

When we go out, and when we're chillin' and have lots of time, and semi-conscious and sleepy and high or drunk (hopefully not) at the same time, we should doodle/word jam. And then we wake up the next day really really sane and sober, and read/see what we did the day before and have a good aching laugh, and then the laughter dies down and we collapse lazily on some couch or some floor, smiling like idiots, thanking God for friends like these and days like these.

Yeah, that'd be fun I think.

Layers.

-

I'm going through http://lookbook.nu and after talking to God about fashion, that it's an awesome thing to dress up. I always thought that there was some vanity in wanting to look good and all, and thus, pride, and thus, WRONG. But God told me that if I saw it as an art, as a means of expression, it would be different.

I thought about it and I was like, yeah! I'll liken it to a talent. The talent of dressing up. The talent of putting together an awesome looking combination of clothing, footwear, headwear, and accessories. It's like painting. And I'm SOOO okay with painting. It's so... NOT WRONG. Anyway let's say you manage to put something together that looks really good (at least to you), it's like you've painted something. It's an art, an expression of what you like; who you are. Even if the painting looks bad to other people, it just means they don't like it as much as you do, but all you're doing is expressing, so who the heck cares?!

It's so awesome because now I don't see dressing up so much as a manifestation of vanity as opposed to an expression of who you are; your very being. And how privileged are those who are bestowed with the opportunity of beholding but a glimpse of who you are. It's the very first thing anyone perceives of you, and how you look acts like an introduction to the deep novel of which who you are fills the pages. 

It's just like a painting, only that you're wearing it. 

I'm surprised, almost appalled at how long it took me to see things this way.

Okay, all that is based on the assumption that you dress up the way you do because you like it (like I paint pictures of nature because I love looking at trees and such, to use the painting analogy) and not because you want to fashion an artificial impression; a facade; trying to look like what you really aren't, but that's not always easy to tell. Need some introspection to really know.

It's sucky though that Singapore is so hot and humid and that really stops me from thinking about wearing stuff that I like but trap heat. Like vests or scarves. I might slowly inch toward the motive of dressing up as an art and start to not think about how hot it is. I MIGHT. God please just make Singapore cool forever. Or make me teleport to Iceland wear it's cold and wear I have more reason to put on vests and scarves and hoodies and cardigans and layers upon layers of stuff and expressing who I am while enjoying the lakes and mountains and fields and trees and sky...

:/

Goodnight everyone. I will start looking for more paints to use on this canvas that is my body. Uh, and no I don't mean get a tattoo. But that's another thing...

I'm starting to wonder what I'll look like during this process of metamorphosis...

This was written on 170809 at 0753hrs, in a frantic hurry, almost right after waking up, so as to not leave out any details. So please pardon the strange structure/composition/language. It was written in one sitting, with my pen just spilling everything out from what I remembered onto the sheet of paper, like verbal diarrhea. No editing was done (apart from grammatical errors and such), and you can say what's written here is practically an exact copy of what's written in my personal journal.

So here (:


-

She was an artist. That was one of the first few things I could tell of her. She was a painter. Came in with many large canvases of paintings she had done. They were very impressive. There were lots of colours; paintings of nature, sceneries.

She was in search of something. She came almost solely for this purpose, although ostensibly to study. She wore a lot of black, with a little bit of purple. I wondered if she had something to hide. But she was confident. She knew who she was. Mostly. She knew she was a good painter, but never flaunted her gift. She took out her paintings, or even painted, upon request, and soon everyone knew she was amazing at it. That made her glad, but she wasn't happy.

Her hair was black. I liked that. Though there's almost an overkill of black in what she wore. I hope she'd wear bright colours someday. She was in good shape, not athletic, but slim. Nice body. Her face, though not stereotypical 'attractive' - in a fashion magazine sense of the word - shone out into everything and everyone around her. If she wanted to, she'd be pouring out her personality. Yes, that was it. Who she was, her personality, was what made her attractive, and people were drawn to her naturally. She knew that, and she loved it; just reveled in it.

I knew I was attracted to her. But I wasn't as flamboyant or bird-of-paradise-y towards her. I admired her while going about my daily routine. She had noticed, and for a while, nothing was said. But those few days were pregnant with a beautiful tension we knew would someday have to be released. Nothing was said, but our souls spoke to each other, almost crying out toward each other, for each other. Every time we made eye contact, we felt that. What were our souls doing to us?? What did they want??

Instances of interaction were few and far between, but they seemed so carefully and perfectly measured. Each interval lasted just the right amount of time, and when the moment came to speak to her, to communicate, to pass her an object, to help her out, even when she spoke to a group of us about her paintings, the connection grew stronger, its sinews tightened in an uncontrollable embrace with something - or someone - it had encountered that would elicit no less a response. When she spoke to that group, I sat there, my soul knowing she was speaking only to me. My soul knew hers. Her soul knew that. Now, she was starting to know that. One can tell, through her eyes, the way they smiled when they caught mine. It was always a struggle for her to even momentarily snap out of that visual enchantment. It was no different for me.

Then one day something happened, as the celestial forces of the universe were conspiring to help the both of us one step closer to our destiny. She was in a room where she kept her paintings. She had a little trouble moving them - they were heavy and numerous. Then I entered, and it was only her and I. Time didn't stop; it didn't even move in slow motion. I simply helped her move her paintings; carried this load with her. She stumbled backwards once, an inevitable fall broken only by my hand upon the small of her back. She was so shy about it, but I didn't mind. From that day on, we knew that we had found each other, and she would start putting on some brighter clothes sooner that she'd expected.

-

Okay that was all I wrote. I don't think everything in this dream should be taken literally; I'm sure some of the elements in there are symbolic. But I'd never been more sure that this girl I had dreamt about is someone very special and someone I'd be spending a bulk of my life in future together with. Then again I can't really be sure of much else. All I can do is speculate and keep dreaming until something real happens hahaha.

Thank you for reading. For those of you who're still searching for your special someone, it's never too early to start praying (:

This post will include my thoughts for today, which aren't many, obviously atypical of me :P

Today at Novena's underground station, the train on one side had just departed, its wheels shrieking away back into the darkness it came from. As the high frequency sound started to die down, almost returning to silence, it swelled right back like a videotape being rewound; as if time was reversed. It continued increasing in intensity. Louder and louder it became. I couldn't believe it! And then it came to me, 'Oh... it's the sound of the other train.'

Now, that's a perfect transition.

But as cool as it sounded, I couldn't help but ridicule myself for almost believing that time had reversed, that I had been caught in a moment of chronological chaos, and yet remained in continuous consciousness. If it ever did happen though, hahaha, that'd be what's cool. And I do not doubt that possibility one bit.

Sitting in that station, I thought about another possibility - what if I died, here, in this underground station, today. I told God I'd let Him take me then and there if it was in His will, but He couldn't take me without regret, disappointment, grief, and all that is known to be dark and negative in this already dark and negative world, inside of me, because I know that there's so much I'd be leaving behind. There're so many people I can't bear to leave, and people I know who can't bear with my leaving. There'd be so much work left unfinished, so many treasures left undiscovered. 

Yet in the midst of all that is dark and negative, there is an intense excitement and anticipation at the nearing prospect of meeting Jesus and dwelling with Him, worshipping Him, loving, learning, forever. And we can be sure that wherever He takes you away from, He has something for that which is left behind. So, as much as I'd like to travel the world, learn a million instruments, write a million books, impact a million lives, and spend the time I have left on this earth with all of you guys; my friends; those who are reading this, I trust in full faith that God knows what He's doing, and if I am ever taken away suddenly and unexpectedly, make no mistake that I love of you (yes, you) with all my heart (I don't care if it sounds cheesy cos I'm writing a lasagna).

This is a love that is truly genuine, and it is only because of His love for me that I am able to love you as I do. I dare say I'd give anything away (if the Lord wills), and do everything within my power, if any one of you falls away from Him, to help you back up. Because my heart and prayer for all of you and myself is that every single day, our spirits would keep growing, stronger, more grounded in Him, with a passion that burns unceasingly, a heart that ultimately seeks the Lord and His Kingdom, bringing His beauty, favour, glory, His Presence, everywhere we go, as Living Stones of His temple, and gates to the heavenlies. And I sincerely hope that is your heart and prayer for yourself, too (: I hereby, declare that into your life right now!

And now that I've thought of the prospect of dying, I will try, from now on, to love more. And when I do love more, to show it more. Because I don't know when I will go. And also because I don't know when any of you will go. I will conclude by saying: Do not fear death, because it is not the end; but a Perfect Transition.

...made me tear. I'm just so in awe that a place like this exists on earth. God is amazing. I want to go there, for as long as I'm still living as a human being. Imagine what more exists in the heavenlies! *sigh*




[taken from http://www.flickr.com/photos/misserion/2415598386 via Tass' tumblr, http://kitscheartache.tumblr.com (O thank you! Please visit it, seriously her choice of pictures to post have given me a lot of inspiration already)]

Just thought I'd share this so you can all behold its beauty with me. And hopefully again in future, only not merely through a photograph. I don't know where it is though :/

Here's a little something for you guys to enjoy... I LOVE IT IT'S SO FUNNY AND CUTE.


-

On a more serious note, I had a little chat with God two days back. It was after worshipping for about 45mins, so I was already in the 'right' attitude.

We talked about having a Soul (or spirit), and O how enjoyable it was! He taught me that our bodies make up only a tiny percentage of our Being - who we are. A huge chunk is made up of our Soul, and the rest is the Mind and Heart, which I shall scarce expound on for now.

The Soul is spiritual, it's the main part of us that communicates with other spiritual beings, like God, angels, demons, Satan, and whatnot. It's what interacts with the spiritual realm. Not to say our bodies have no association - they can work in partnership with our souls - but some sort of agreement has to be made between the two. For example, you raise your hands or kneel down in worship as an act of obedience. That expression will trigger a reaction in the spirit (on the pretext that you're doing it out of a pure heart of worship), and can lead to things like breakthroughs, or spiritual revelation. But as our bodies are ultimately part of our Being, they are also ultimately merely a physical means by which we live our lives on this ephemeral earth made of matter and other things that make sense.

As messengers, living stones in the House of God, gates to the spirit realm, living on this earth, we need to have bodies if we are to spread this message. It makes things easier than if we were just spirits floating around, sneakily whispering to the lost about changing water into wine only to witness them getting drunk an hour later. Or something. Come to think of it that'd be really weird. Plus, I think that the spirits of Man will go straight up before God's throne of judgement the moment they cease to possess a physical body. This one, I still don't know much about, but there'd be so many contradictions if we didn't have bodies! So yes, let's still look after our bodies even though we know they don't make up that much in this divine composition that is our Being, because we have a responsibility over anything we are given.

Our bodies also provide us with the beautiful privilege of enjoying the pleasures of the senses (of which now I thank God I am feasting on). (:

There's really so much more to say. I shall continue next time. But it's raining now and my bed beckons. Wow so beautiful, the sound of distant thunder. Goodnight friends. I shall close with a song for you. Not by me, of course. Here's City and Colour's 'Hello, I'm In Delaware'. A song to listen to before you sleep. Enjoy. Since I'm not physically with you now, my Soul pours out its love (:

This is a video of a live performance by mewithoutYou called, 'In a Sweater Poorly Knit.'

The beginning of the song isn't exactly what one would call 'nice' or melodic, but sit through it, because it serves as the perfect buildup to the song's amazing chorus. You'll find that your patience will eventually consummate your experience.

I just love how Aaron Weiss, the frontman of the band (who kinda looks Jesus-ish somehow hahaha), is so real. His soul emerges; surfaces, when he performs, like the crew of a ship rushing out onto its deck, waving to the people at the dock waiting for them, as if to say, 'Hello! I'm so glad to see you! Please listen, because I just want to say that I love you and Jesus loves you!'. That's how I feel when I watch him and mewithoutYou, in all their intensity. And still there is this inexplicable beauty in the midst of it.

When I was a liaison for the band Aloha, Tony - their frontman - told me that when they toured together with mewithoutYou, Weiss actually cooked for his fans! Like wow, you're a star and you go down to those who need God and show his love in the way you live your life, through actions that are small but so meaningful. Imagine how impacted his fans must've been.

I will not assure you that you'd feel the same as I do watching the video, but I was deeply moved by it and I don't exactly know why. Almost tear-jerkingly. But perhaps it's due to the spirit and the heart from which this song is written. It can be felt even if one didn't speak the language. But then again, 'heart & soul' is already a completely different kind of language in itself, birthed even before words were spoken I believe. There was burning passion for Jesus and a genuine heart for outreach in this song.

Around the middle of the song you will notice people starting to dance on stage. I could just sense their worshipful spirit from the way they danced. It looks perhaps totally unlike the modern dance styles or the prophetic & interpretive dances we see in church, but if I were to picture how David danced, he'd look like that! To me, it portrayed a celebration of love in reckless abandon. And I loved that, just watching them dance. I want to join them.

Hahaha, I notice that a lot of what I've talked about stems from how I feel when I watch the video, and isn't backed up by any 'evidence' (like 'How can you possibly feel that way?' 'What is this based on?' 'Is it maybe a state of mind & body you've once experienced and so with the desire and favourable conditions, this state is re-established, causing such thoughts and feelings to seemingly, inexplicably arise?'). Well, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS (and I'm also lazy to. Not in the mood for argumentative stuff now) BUT THAT'S JUST HOW I FEEL OK (:

Oh, and the harp made it heavenly and angelic. Or maybe it's a stereotype. -shrugs-

This is not beauty
When all of life is beautiful
We all have to crumble under this
Try to fight it with fire
But I'm the one burning in the onslaught

Since when do I surrender?
Draw your swords
Arm yourselves
We fight fire not with fire
But with all beings celestial

This is not the time
No, I will not take it here
No fear, what death?
Nothing stands when we're done here
Not even your iron tusk of death

If you think you can kill with your drilling
We, the truth-bringers, will destroy your hopes

Yes, we are at war
Nothing made of steel will triumph
Crumble under the strength of a thousand souls
Even with just one man

-

Okay I'll keep this as Draft 1 (cos I wrote it in 5mins, and it'll definitely need editing) in my lyric bank.

I will triumph over this drill! With the help of my God and His army of angels!

DRILLING DRILLING DRILLING! I CAN'T SLEEP! 

I can't get one peaceful minute in my own home, a place of refuge, and now ironically, the very reason I need to seek refuge. 

My head!!! Spare me O Lord!!! PLEEEEASE!!!

ARGGHGHHH
pj;oij;lih;linlnuky yrd

Calm down please calm down. Express it in poetry! Yes! Okay.

Roses are red
Violets are blue 
I can't get to sleep cos the BLOODY @#*&&$(% DRILLING IS SO FREAKING LOUD!!! ARRRGGHHGHGHHH!H!!!!!!WPJP!!JOI!HLUYGKSDYDD ooh ooh.

Not working not working I need to eat my breakfast please please plsease plaseas plaseaselpa seasase....

I can't even hear my own chewing when sometimes it's so loud it bothers me. Now I long to hear my own chewing. Please let me hear my own chewing I won't ever complain about it again! Chewy chewy chewy pweeeaaaseeeeeee.....

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR -tries to tear hair off head but can't cos they have roots and that kinda makes it a little painful-

Try to think of it as music. Okay okay trying try. Try to find the note or the rhythm or the key or something. Okay okay try try.
Key:  C? no, maybe an F cos sometimes it gets confusi  sdfigjs;oigjo;igjdijfds LOUD ASS DRILLING
Rhythm: 6/8 4/4 5/3 27/16  ANNOYING/SUICIDE-INDUCING

God, is this where I go? I'm really not afraid of death. Take me, if that is Your will and I sincerely mean that. Because right now, I don't mind going.

AREEEEE:IHE:FIHFEOHE:OF the sounds... the drilling... Everything is caving in!!!!!!!!!

I know I used to listen to really brutal death metal before. But it was nowhere near preparing me for this! This is nowhere near metal. This is fricken metal making a fricken hole in concrete.

Okay okay put on some songs. yeah , some nice christian songs hahah yeah that'll work. that'd work okay go! ... I CAN'T EVEN HEAR WHAT SONG IS PLAYING!!! THIS DRILL IS AGGRESSIVE!!! I THINK IT WANTS ME!!! IT WON'T STOP TILL I'M LIKE THE CONCRETE UNDER ITS IRON TUSK OF DEATHHHHHH!!!

...
Whoa, finally! Silence! Count the seconds...



1.



2.



ARRRGGGGHGGGGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! -faints-