Another year is passing over to yet another one that strikes a digit higher in the numerical counter. My schedules on years' worth of calendars have gone tired from following up and these novelties have lost their purposes. A faith, a shot of hope, a chance to love, can only quaver to its boundary. After that, they are no longer eligible for their own terms. This year, exudes so much craziness, so much accomplished and unaccomplished imaginable. Dawn still widens every morning and dusk still deepens just to await another crack of day. My aspirations and ambitions fell into a blank page of ambiguity but that has not thus faltered the optimism, albeit painful and painfully built. Endurance was strained to endure, patience was lost to patient and love was lost to love.
I miss youth already.
Here's wishing everybody a tolerable 2009.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Everyday is a new one that spells growing contentment. With the basking loving of family, my one love Hanwei, friends and the ones to come, life already is ironing out, morsel by morsel, bit by bit.
Christmas 2008 has been remarkably beautiful, extended with gratitude towards my family, the Gohs and families, friends with warmest greetings, and certainly not leaving out, the man of my life Neo Hanwei.
I am geniunely, generally, happy.
Christmas 2008 has been remarkably beautiful, extended with gratitude towards my family, the Gohs and families, friends with warmest greetings, and certainly not leaving out, the man of my life Neo Hanwei.
I am geniunely, generally, happy.
Monday, December 15, 2008
The shape of his name groups the murky yet musk bittersweets. Here, it is not often that silence is outlined with solace, yet this moment stands to a still with a quivering solitude. Not uncommon it is, that my defence mechanism fractures minutely by every chance before the walls that call themselves barriers break down to a compelling state of faith, or holding on to. There is a spark fluttering underneath my heart but it must not blend into the organ. The more his name reverberates with comfort near the organ of emotions, the more the increment of my inclinations towards this man.
Waiting plays as a gaming test of every possible and impossible unutterable word there is to be gilded in the heart. This term of many certainties and uncertainties will tell much and it is with will, faithfulness and trust, that my commitment is in this very patient wait.
To not wait, is no longer an option, because this love has already been entrusted to this man.
Waiting plays as a gaming test of every possible and impossible unutterable word there is to be gilded in the heart. This term of many certainties and uncertainties will tell much and it is with will, faithfulness and trust, that my commitment is in this very patient wait.
To not wait, is no longer an option, because this love has already been entrusted to this man.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Monday, December 08, 2008
Bobby and Deliah building the Christmas tree
T-E-A-S-I-N-G
First comes flirting
Second comes dirty talking
Third comes harpiness and chomping (Only Hanwei will get this.)
Bobby and Deliah under the Christmas tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love
Second comes Perth
Third comes a 5 carat
Fourth comes a baby carriage
Bobby and Deliah
After many Christmas trees
G-R-E-Y-I-N-G
First still comes love
Second comes aging
Third comes our babies' babies
Fourth....
This jingle will never end.
T-E-A-S-I-N-G
First comes flirting
Second comes dirty talking
Third comes harpiness and chomping (Only Hanwei will get this.)
Bobby and Deliah under the Christmas tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love
Second comes Perth
Third comes a 5 carat
Fourth comes a baby carriage
Bobby and Deliah
After many Christmas trees
G-R-E-Y-I-N-G
First still comes love
Second comes aging
Third comes our babies' babies
Fourth....
This jingle will never end.
Till our smiles draw lines at edges of our features, till the horizons finally set its darkness upon our breaths, my fidelity and its loving infinities, they are yours.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
As my luggage awaits its next trudge into a foreign land which reads temporary utopia, the ones left behind in this cosy nation will still constantly remain in my thoughts and prayers. There is an airplane of emotional baggage and nicotine habits to be left behind, for good.
Thank you, friends, who have constantly looked out for me and looked after me.
Thank you Mummy and Daddy, for redeeming my stressful circumstances and being together as one although it has never been easy.
Thank you Hanwei, for being there endlessly for me and for loving me to this day.
Thank you, friends, who have constantly looked out for me and looked after me.
Thank you Mummy and Daddy, for redeeming my stressful circumstances and being together as one although it has never been easy.
Thank you Hanwei, for being there endlessly for me and for loving me to this day.
Monday, November 24, 2008
i felt so blessed knowing that i am the one who is able to change you for the better, i am pleased and blessed too that you're the person who is here with me walking through this life of mine n ours. i felt so lucky to have you by my side, assuring me at the right moment when the others are there waiting to prey. thank you darling. u made me realise how independent and dependent you make me of you.
It certainly didnt dawn on me that i am able to give so much advices and my two cents worth of life values to you when i m only a sweet 22. but lookin at all of it, i certainly felt mature and more like a man who is able to shoulder the responsibility of looking after a family which i will eventually build. Personal spaces, freedom we want to individually pursue, it dont matter, in fact what binds us is this little thing call mutual trust and that trust is something that make everything possible and worthy to live for.
I am elated to have you with me.
I love you Cheryl.
Your Bobby
1131pm.
:)
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Once again, being in the mutilating between of crossroads, one that travels opposite directions of believing and the other of distrusting, averts the motion of prolonged felicity. It is not the fault that defines the righteousness of accumulated matters, the corrective changes are. Keeping my chameleon facade would not escalate the improvement scale of grotesque of events that incline the disbelieving.
Albom's reads have always been lesson enriching and bitter sweetly apt, about the hardest trials humans struggle through all their lives, regardless of the types of people they are altogether, or individually if you may have it placed. An extraction was rediscovered upon a visit to my sister's blog, which I felt, is personally consoling to read. Never have I been good at detaching once I'm drawn into any form of affinity, but that is what seems to be the pattern of requirement of me whenever I get attached. No doubt, there is dangerously thin rope between attachment and detachment, and what strikes most worrying is the extreme of both alternatives.
A preacher spoke of God, promises, and withdrawn promises. How do you write, if you do not read in between lines. How do you gain wisdom and muse, if underlying messages are never decoded. I am lost, and I feel the part of this small frame of body. I will try praying this night that glimpses hope. And tonight I pray that nobody who loves, would get hurt or betrayed. I pray with a skeptic of a heart and to contradict, with a tightened and clenched fist, but nevertheless, I'm trying to seek that spiritual solace. I pray for the desperation to search for a direction.
I am a city that has been terrorised, I am the plane that has crashed, I am the debris of a disaster's aftermath, I am the noise to your balance, I am the love-hate nicotine in your lungs, I am the starless blank of your skies, I am the red sunset of your ominous cliches, I am the silence to your gentleness and the anger in your hands, but I am the girl who will always love you the most. I am not perfect, but I have thus far never stopped trying to be all I can for you.
"Take any emotion -- love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or what I'm going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you hold back on the emotions -- if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them -- you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails.
"But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, 'All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognise that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.' "
Morrie stopped and looked me over, perhaps to make sure I was getting this right.
"I know you think this is just about dying," he said, "but it's like I keep telling you. When you learn how to die, you learn how to live."
I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we are not supposed to cry. Or how we feel a surge of love for a partner but we don't say anything because we're frozen with the fear of what those words might do to the relationship.
Morrie's approach was exactly the opposite. Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. If you let the fear inside, if you pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, "All right, it's just fear, I don't have to let it control me. I see it for what it is."
Same for loneliness: you let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely -- but eventually be able to say, "All right, that was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well."
"Detach," Morrie said again.
by Mitch Albom
Albom's reads have always been lesson enriching and bitter sweetly apt, about the hardest trials humans struggle through all their lives, regardless of the types of people they are altogether, or individually if you may have it placed. An extraction was rediscovered upon a visit to my sister's blog, which I felt, is personally consoling to read. Never have I been good at detaching once I'm drawn into any form of affinity, but that is what seems to be the pattern of requirement of me whenever I get attached. No doubt, there is dangerously thin rope between attachment and detachment, and what strikes most worrying is the extreme of both alternatives.
A preacher spoke of God, promises, and withdrawn promises. How do you write, if you do not read in between lines. How do you gain wisdom and muse, if underlying messages are never decoded. I am lost, and I feel the part of this small frame of body. I will try praying this night that glimpses hope. And tonight I pray that nobody who loves, would get hurt or betrayed. I pray with a skeptic of a heart and to contradict, with a tightened and clenched fist, but nevertheless, I'm trying to seek that spiritual solace. I pray for the desperation to search for a direction.
I am a city that has been terrorised, I am the plane that has crashed, I am the debris of a disaster's aftermath, I am the noise to your balance, I am the love-hate nicotine in your lungs, I am the starless blank of your skies, I am the red sunset of your ominous cliches, I am the silence to your gentleness and the anger in your hands, but I am the girl who will always love you the most. I am not perfect, but I have thus far never stopped trying to be all I can for you.
"Take any emotion -- love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or what I'm going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you hold back on the emotions -- if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them -- you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails.
"But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, 'All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognise that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.' "
Morrie stopped and looked me over, perhaps to make sure I was getting this right.
"I know you think this is just about dying," he said, "but it's like I keep telling you. When you learn how to die, you learn how to live."
I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we are not supposed to cry. Or how we feel a surge of love for a partner but we don't say anything because we're frozen with the fear of what those words might do to the relationship.
Morrie's approach was exactly the opposite. Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. If you let the fear inside, if you pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, "All right, it's just fear, I don't have to let it control me. I see it for what it is."
Same for loneliness: you let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely -- but eventually be able to say, "All right, that was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well."
"Detach," Morrie said again.
by Mitch Albom
Sunday, November 02, 2008
First November's addition - 3 weeks old Lewry Lio. Nothing bigger than the size of my hand, nothing whiter than a bleached coat of fur, pink ears and nose and paws, nothing less whiny than a wimp for a boy, eyes nothing less oceanic and gem-like, and a heart meltdown for us Lios. She now resides with us.
Taking a dig at monkey faces for the first time in its life.
Honestly, I have never seen a cat sleep like that.
The pooch is at loggerheads with the kitty, but all my reservations are meant for Baby, still.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Novembers. While they are splendidly lovely for others, they are not so for me. Every eleventh month of these years, they pot in store lurking silhouettes of mutilation. Order reverses, detachment of control and mornings filled with hell breaking loose alongside the heart and the head that clog every surviving vein. We call these lessons. I call this my destiny. Mine, is to search - an immaterial price for being headlessly in love with the idea of being in love and its reciprocation.
This November's start feels no different from last years. I was sure I found my sunlit November. Was, but I'm still in that indifferent familiarity of a search that I am compelled to keep at arm's length.
Samson came to my bed. Told me that my hair was red. Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed. Oh I cut his hair myself one night, a pair of old scissors and a yellow light, and he told me I'd done alright and kissed me till the morning light. Oh the morning light.
And Samson said,"You are my sweetest downfall. I love you first. I loved you first between the stars came falling on our head. But they're just old light."
This November's start feels no different from last years. I was sure I found my sunlit November. Was, but I'm still in that indifferent familiarity of a search that I am compelled to keep at arm's length.
Samson came to my bed. Told me that my hair was red. Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed. Oh I cut his hair myself one night, a pair of old scissors and a yellow light, and he told me I'd done alright and kissed me till the morning light. Oh the morning light.
And Samson said,"You are my sweetest downfall. I love you first. I loved you first between the stars came falling on our head. But they're just old light."
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Comfort sets ajar and creates vacant spaces for word and food for thought. Everyday is lived battling new faces for courage and the consumption from remnants handicaps the fit will of fundamental belief. Vital presence lionizes the overrated time, and time is always granted in personal favour, or not. This temporal comprehension of chronology is a permanent scratch of age, of beauty, of joy, of peace, and of all their oppositions. Just as suffering is avid, overcoming is its nature's key, yet I am but a stranger of being part of nature. Conditioned to understanding foolishness like a snake at its prey, names and fond inclinations will someday turn back to be replaced. It is as if my requests, claimed with simplicity, has undoubtedly transitioned into an endless constellation of perplexities.
February has so much to offer, as it confirms proposals of losses. The world is oblivious to that because I am living this world on my own. Nobody will pain at the thought of February the way I do. Love is magnetic, as it is wishing to repel at positive reciprocation.
Your absence will be like an apocalypse, bitterly saddening and consistently tragic. Well, the clock still ticks. God doesn't listen much, to have displaced me in this messy calculation of 12 numbers, 12 months, 365 days, and that certain dilemma of 2 years. Because if He loved me, these are mere slip-ups between me and the people who have been condemned.
The choice was not mine and never was mine to make. This arrangement is not out of my will or enthusiasm, it is just life for me.
February has so much to offer, as it confirms proposals of losses. The world is oblivious to that because I am living this world on my own. Nobody will pain at the thought of February the way I do. Love is magnetic, as it is wishing to repel at positive reciprocation.
Your absence will be like an apocalypse, bitterly saddening and consistently tragic. Well, the clock still ticks. God doesn't listen much, to have displaced me in this messy calculation of 12 numbers, 12 months, 365 days, and that certain dilemma of 2 years. Because if He loved me, these are mere slip-ups between me and the people who have been condemned.
The choice was not mine and never was mine to make. This arrangement is not out of my will or enthusiasm, it is just life for me.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Turmoils, incessant quarrels seem to be the latest on-goings amidst our lives right now. Many a times such negativity always brings a damp to our fragile, relatively short 5months of Our relationship. More often than not, i am sure such vibes only makes leaves us doubting whether this love of ours is strong enough to sustain more difficult things on our way ahead.
To Bobby, I see a silver lining in times like these. It was particularly bad for the last one, but it made me realised that being together with you, is not only seeking an apology when ur wrong and i m right, not about seeing who puts down their egos first n initiations. I was wrong. What matters is to be there for each other, admitting that both of us r wrong which resulted in the squabble, regardless who's right or wrong.
My vision of seeing you one day becoming my wife, may be rather opaque now. but slowly and surely, I envision You to be my partner one day in time to come :) we just need to change what we are so used to living our 2 decades of life of mostly being single, to one that involves us, just like a pair of Siamese Twins haha.
Darling, never doubt my feelings for you, never doubt every single actions, evey whinings or every quarrels we had or will have, All these goes to show my love for you that never wanes, that increases day by day.Good times may be the best time of a relationship, but it defeats the purpose if we dont go thru' the process of bad times together as one, as well.
In short, You're the only person i have in heart, the only person my heart will give to.
I love you Cheryl Perterror Cyclopress :)
Love
Bobby.
To Bobby, I see a silver lining in times like these. It was particularly bad for the last one, but it made me realised that being together with you, is not only seeking an apology when ur wrong and i m right, not about seeing who puts down their egos first n initiations. I was wrong. What matters is to be there for each other, admitting that both of us r wrong which resulted in the squabble, regardless who's right or wrong.
My vision of seeing you one day becoming my wife, may be rather opaque now. but slowly and surely, I envision You to be my partner one day in time to come :) we just need to change what we are so used to living our 2 decades of life of mostly being single, to one that involves us, just like a pair of Siamese Twins haha.
Darling, never doubt my feelings for you, never doubt every single actions, evey whinings or every quarrels we had or will have, All these goes to show my love for you that never wanes, that increases day by day.Good times may be the best time of a relationship, but it defeats the purpose if we dont go thru' the process of bad times together as one, as well.
In short, You're the only person i have in heart, the only person my heart will give to.
I love you Cheryl Perterror Cyclopress :)
Love
Bobby.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Vague sound of rain
Pierces through my song again
But I get distracted by the way his toes move when he plays
So I let it burn
I just poured my heart out
there's bits of it on the floor
And I take what's left of it and rinse it under cold water
And call him up for more
And I say baby, yes I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too
He said I'm sorry
So sorry
I'm sorry
So sorry
He grabs my wrists
As my fingers turn into angry fists
And I whisper why can't you love me, I'll change for you
I'll play the part
And I say baby, so I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too
He said I'm sorry
So sorry
I'm sorry
I am sorry
(Maria Mena - Sorry)
Pierces through my song again
But I get distracted by the way his toes move when he plays
So I let it burn
I just poured my heart out
there's bits of it on the floor
And I take what's left of it and rinse it under cold water
And call him up for more
And I say baby, yes I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too
He said I'm sorry
So sorry
I'm sorry
So sorry
He grabs my wrists
As my fingers turn into angry fists
And I whisper why can't you love me, I'll change for you
I'll play the part
And I say baby, so I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too
He said I'm sorry
So sorry
I'm sorry
I am sorry
(Maria Mena - Sorry)
Friday, October 17, 2008
"Sometimes I imagine my own autopsy. Disappointment in myself: right kidney. Disappointment of others in me: left kidney. Personal failures: kishkes. ... When the clocks are turned back and the dark falls before I'm ready, this, for reasons I can't explain, I feel in my wrists. And when I wake up and my fingers are stiff , almost certainly I was dreaming of my childhood. ... Yesterday I saw a man kicking a dog and I felt it behind my eyes. I don't know what to call this, a place before tears. The pain of forgetting: spine. The pain of remembering: spine. All the times I have suddenly realized that my parents are dead, even now, it still surprises me, to exist in the world while that which made me has ceased to exist: my knees. ... To everything a season, to every time I've woken only to make the mistake of believing for a moment that someone was sleeping beside me: a hemorrhoid. Loneliness: there is no organ that can take it all."
"It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility."
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