Youngest kid of six with an inferiority and black sheep complex, but determined that God saves not just his soul to heaven but the remainder of his manic-depressive life, so others won't say he became a Christian and remained a jerk.
i won't be transparent before i'm opaque. and you'll get to know me starting from the small things: who my favourite bands are. what kind of movies i like. who are my heroes.
I’m convinced that when confronted with sincere, real love, the Jesus factor will become obvious. But let’s not plant the cross before we carry it. I’m not trying to con you.
Some dreams are meant to be achieved. I know that. But maybe other dreams are meant to drive us, privately. Never known to anyone but ourselves.
It is a sadness that, when choosing between crying and sighing, will choose sighing. I'd almost say that melancholy is being sad about sadness itself.
On memory and nostalgia
It saddens me when life moves forward and people decide that certain things are worth forgetting.
I've learnt that the word irregardless is filed as a non-standard word in the English language. That's a lexicographer's way of saying it's not a real word.
Crowds are fickle things. So when we stand in the thousands and cry against the present government, do we know who we're actually crying for?
People always want the best for themselves. But I want to sometimes take second or third or fourth best, just so that the loser down the road doesn't always have to come in last. It must feel like shit to always come in last.
On growing old
Leasehold property make me feel sad. It doesn't matter how old the family photos are that you put on your wall. It's your family but it's not really your wall.
I ask you, if God loves everyone, and if God is also incapable of loving evil, how can there be such a thing as an evil man?
On a daily basis
One line quips, like this.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Flu. phlegm. cough. spit. between sneezing like a cannonball and bleeding out of my right ear, i've not exactly been in the pink of health. you know, health is the very thing that a guy of my profile takes forgranted. with a doctor for a dad and barely out of my mid-20s, i'm running on that v-power fuel called youthful invincibility. ain't nothing short of an 18-wheel truck or the Almighty himself's gonna touch me. or so i think. not so true, apparently.
cos today, i feel like passing out in the office. and as i drift in and out of the here, nevermind the now, i wonder what crazy demon of youthful invincibility it was that posessed me this morning, inspiring the unrealistic optimism that i could survive 8.5 hours without so much as a pillow for dreamic comfort. i should have stayed home. i should have gotten another three or four hours of sleep. at the state i'm in, i'm a shoe-in for an mc. why then did i think i could hack it?
my throat hurts when i sneeze. my face is tired and the skin under my nose is parched. i've been fighting a fever since last night and i've used up about half a tissue roll since i got in here this morning. lunch could have been bouncier and work could have cleared. now, i don't have the rest and i don't have the productivity either. all i have is a self-conscious blogpost, waxing meta about my own failure to manage ill-health.
4:24 pm ]