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read between the lines
the tension and i live to blog another day. switchfoot's upcoming album 'vice verses' (out online tomorrow, can't wait till it physically reaches shores here…which should be in a few months) is supposed to be about living in the tension, and that is precisely what i've been struggling with this month especially -- trying to live in the balance between happiness and sadness, instead of reducing the other, which is what i always thought ought to happen ever since i dug my way out of depression.there have been moments of the kind of joy that just bubbles to the surface, like the whole excitement about returning to my alma mater (new buildings and facilities have taken shape next to the old ones i used to frequent) and simple things like just looking out the train window, seeing people not at work and gladly that i now belong to their club too. not that working wasn't beneficial, but my last few months there in it were definitely emotionally and physically draining. and i guess the overall joy of waking up every day and knowing that i'm living one step closer to my dream (at least for now, 'cause where i'm currently at in life isn't a backtrack or a detour any more from where i really want to be). that and stroking the cream-orange fur of my bear as he rests his chin on my palm, knowing that he loves me and i love him too, and being super thankful that he and his brother are still there for me through good times and bad, fourteen years on and counting (and they shall live to be at least twenty while still in great health, amen!). but there are also haunting moments of sadness reminding me of my past that still grip me. the first day of school was a prime example of my past coming back to haunt me -- i was overwhelmed with all the feelings of shyness, loneliness, isolation and despair that i'd felt years ago as i was walking through a particular section of the area. it was at that point (after realising that the situation was still the same -- there wasn't going to be anyone giving me a leg up) that i had to get a grip on myself and be aware of the fact that the feelings might be a piece of my memory, but who i am right now is no longer the person i was before. it's still taking a while for me to remember this fact especially in front of schoolmates and lecturers, but at least i get it right when on my own (no more feeling bored, useless and depressed if i'm left to myself on school grounds any more). the sadness also rises to the surface during sermons preaching acceptance and love, i find, and i seem to get particularly defensive whenever close friends try to throw a kind word in my direction (didn't take me long to figure out that i was rejecting all that because i knew that the minute i accepted those words, tears would fall out of my eyes, the way they very nearly do in sermons -- i ironically find myself asking god for the strength not to cry during sermons :p). the fact that i'm a lost sheep in terms of belonging to a congregational home bothers me too, but i was greatly encouraged a fortnight ago when i visited a spirit-filled, strong woman of god (who'd undergone and was still going through many trials) who hadn't gotten the chance to go to church in one and a half years even though she really wanted to. i mean, she spoke as if she'd just attended sunday service the week before, not like someone who'd lost the passion god usually imparts to regular and serious-about-it churchgoers. i mean, i've gained too much sleep (as opposed to lost sleep -- for many weekends it just felt like real life was a bad dream i needed to keep sleeping away from), had two nightmares (the last nightmare i've ever had was when i was still in high school) or lucid dreams, rather, since i was able to change the horrible ending (in one, i died during an earthquake but it turns out i had only fainted in the arms of friends, and in another, i was living with an ex-colleague in a haunted house and we were getting freaked out by the cold temperature and lights going on and off, but the one thing that woke me up from that dream was me declaring that whatever was bugging was going to leave us alone IN JESUS' NAME) and cried during private moments in the night but, nearly a month later, i'm becoming aware that it is only a matter of time before god irons things out and till then, i'm not going to lose my faith nor passion for Him -- thanks to taking back sunday for reminding me in their latest single, faith (when i let you down). it should be a simple request: a church in which i feel like i finally belong (where i have genuine friends in similar stages of life who'll stand up for me and where i experience minimal hurt, judgement, intimidation or rejection), which doesn't incur high travelling costs (since i no longer have incoming income) or requirements that i don't agree with. but it isn't, and i don't know if it's because i'll never feel like i belong or feel close to anybody for long for the rest of my life on this earth or because god's taking his time to reveal such a church to me. i mean i agree with the friend who reminded me that the church will never be perfect and that's a fact we'll have to accept, but…i'm just so sick and tired of being stepped upon like a cockroach by people in church who have the upper hand simply because they're more assertive, tactless and conservative. and i don't want to have to attend cell groups where almost everyone is so considerably older than me, has a spouse and is expecting or already has kids, no matter how nice they are, because that's just not where i am or hope to be at in life right now. surely there is such a church for me in this part of the world? will find out eventually i guess.
re: space invader it's all finally coming to an end...the grandmonster is leaving tomorrow. after spending two weeks of her being in my face, it became clearer to me why i found her annoying:1) almost all of her comments and tales start off pretty innocently about her relating some encounter with someone, but they always have bad endings -- the type that leaves her audience looking at each other in widened eyes that silently signal i can't believe you just said that. she'll end up launching into some foul-mouthed hokkien-malay-english tirade about whoever it is that she encountered, or she'll say something incredibly either sexist, ageist, heterosexist, racist, anti-religionist or just downright mean and untrue about the person in question, be it a television character, stranger she met along the way, friend, brother, and daughter even. and she keeps calling my fourteen-year-old cataract-ridden and hard-of-hearing dog (him and the bear's birthdays were just this saturday) senile even though she can bother to mention that she gets angry whenever her neighbours call her senile. 2) i almost forgot that she has always been like this, even when she was younger. the only reason why the claws haven't come out between us is because i've kept mine retracted. it took a few days for me to be aware of this, but my reaction this time (instead of giving her a piece of my mind) has been passive-agressive: i either roll my eyes at the wall or the empty space next to her, or pretend i didn't hear her comment (especially the rude comments that are thinly disguised as 'jokes') or look as far out the window (away from her face) as i can if we're contained in a car. 3) it is possible that i might not have forgiven her even though i don't feel any hatred towards her when she isn't around. in any case, she's finally leaving. space invader sanctus real's the face of love happened to be the next album out of a set i pulled out of my collection to re-listen to and it's spot on for how i'm feeling at the moment, especially in the first four tracks.not to sound selfish, but i haven't slept nor eaten well ever since my paternal grandmother came over to stay with us last week. the vessel above my eye even started hurting over a particularly stressful incident (internally, though on the outside it just looked like a minimal squabble that died down quickly when i stopped contributing to it) between trying to explain to my parents about a botched dinner order while grandma tried to vie for my attention by making some comment that was probably intended to sound sympathetic. i now understand why sometimes old people and children are lumped together. it's not like i'm heartless about who she is now, it's just: her arrival felt like an ambush to me and i didn't have time to prepare for the lack of personal space i was supposed to suffer from, and the stress of having my personal space dismantled and rearranged (by my parents, in typical eleventh-hour fashion, in time for her visit). at the risk of sounding conceited, personal space is very important to me and having it violated unexpectedly is like someone "destroying the peace" (couldn't resist, we're trying started playing when i was trying to think of something here =p). i was under the assumption that i would be able to spend the last fortnight of my break in the safety of my own little sanctuary of a corner (i'd already planned some personal goals to accomplish before the holidays ended), but up to two days before ambush i am told that my temporary corner will be permanently dismantled and that i'd have to sleep in a different place than i'd assumed i would be sleeping in when grandma arrived. add that to the fact that 6 years later, this house's renovation is still half-done, thereby leaving me no personal space to get my own things done without grandma kaypohing (asking continuous questions about whatever it is i'm doing and then inserting irrelevant tales from times long gone or rehashing the same racist jokes she's been cracking ever since her arrival) -- you see what i mean by her acting like a child would? and so i have to do a lot of child-minding to accommodate her and am only able to complete some of my personal goals when she's asleep (those that don't require eye-straining and don't make any audible sounds since she's sleeping within earshot), which obviously messes up my sleeping pattern and totally ruins my previous attempt to gradually sleep earlier and then wake up earlier in preparation for the end of holidays and return to (school)working life. i should be thankful that there aren't any catfights this year (the last time she stayed with us, i was going through puberty and she took this as an opportunity to call my pimply complexion polka dotted), but there's something she did to me in the past that i might have forgiven but not forgotten, and as a result of that it just makes me feel awkward whenever she's in the room (even more awkward when she casually touches me, like when she physically moved my hips aside because i was inadvertently blocking her path...*shudder*). speaking of the need for personal space, tonight i found a term that seems to best describe my marital status: quirkyalone. i don't know how i missed it all these years, but there you have it...a more accurate description than just being 'single'. and one of the accidental joys this quirkyalone was just starting to discover was playing her new keyboard (of the musical kind) in the moonlight to the tune of whatever was in her earbuds before her personal space got invaded. it was only in that semi-darkness that i realised how useful the contrast of ebony against ivory keys was...maybe whoever created the piano played it till beyond dusk and was too lazy to light a candle =p |
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