tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-103147822024-03-13T09:56:13.530+08:00Sub Rosalivestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.comBlogger257125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-84713405806921378652008-04-10T04:46:00.001+08:002008-04-10T04:47:55.074+08:00265 posts is a long timeBut well, all good things come to an end.<br /><br />I've <a href="http://allumette.wordpress.com">moved</a>.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-62728133856679271982008-04-09T22:46:00.001+08:002008-04-09T22:47:59.522+08:00Clicking on random links in an attempt to justify a 15 minute break leads to this:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.channel4.com/entertainment/tv/microsites/B/bite/shows.jsp">http://www.channel4.com/entertainment/tv/microsites/B/bite/shows.jsp</a><br /><br /><br />And I thought Channel 5 was bad...right, here's a challenge then. Find a more pointless show.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-75052433614887754992008-03-03T06:54:00.002+08:002008-03-03T07:08:31.514+08:00Just a barflyOne day you won't be here<br />One day you will leave<br />One day you won't be here<br />But then I will not grieve<br /><br />Grief's not for tomorrow<br />It will be done today<br />I won't postpone my sorrow<br />I know that you won't stay<br /><br />The page will turn, the grass will burn<br />And green it will not be<br />The music's gone, we've sung our song<br />And it has set us free<br /><br />One day you won't be here<br />One day you will leave<br />One day you won't be here<br />But then I will not grieve<br /><br /><br /><br /><i>slow down, you're going too fast</i>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-81241139798817068762008-02-27T00:41:00.003+08:002008-02-27T00:45:49.747+08:00For my best friendsNessa, Toot, Shane, Ajyt, Aaron, Vidhi, Dranko, Thompson, Jannie, Si Ying...and everyone else who keeps me sane<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mv1206kvh-E&rel=1&border=0"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mv1206kvh-E&rel=1&border=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />We're built to last :)livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-31289927275937473832008-02-22T20:27:00.003+08:002008-02-22T20:29:37.130+08:00MemoDear God,<br /><br />It's probably a good thing you're omnipotent. Because I sure as hell am not, and I'm gonna need quite a lot of help this week. But there's no fear in love, is there - and You've always got my back. I love You.<br /><br />Thanks in advance for a mind-blowing success.<br /><br />Love,<br />Val<br /><br />p.s. if You could engineer a guitar appearing at some point...that would be nice too :)livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-88490878083457270612008-02-22T00:20:00.002+08:002008-02-22T00:25:56.339+08:00From za's blog:<br /><br />Noah: Would you just stay with me?<br /><br />Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fighting.<br /><br />Noah:Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I'm being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you're a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing. <br /><br />Allie: So what.<br /><br />Noah: So it's not going to be easy. It's going to be really hard. And we're going to have to work at this every day. But I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, every day.<br /><br /><i>The Notebook</i><br /><br />I refuse to be cynical. I refuse to be the kind of person people think I need to be if I want to get to where I want to get. I maintain that I <i>don't</i> have to be vindictive, I <i>won't</i> need to manipulate, I <i>can</i> still love, and trust, have faith, and teach, mentor, and give in to - give up for, step back for - and be a success. I refuse to be the person some people are trying to turn me into - people I respect, and love, but never want to be like. People who are unhappy, but think that's the only way they can achieve what they want. Because it's not true. Because this life <i>is</i> about happiness. Not indulgence, but true happiness. And I know, and always have, that that happiness demands and requires nothing but love, truth, trust, and faith. And no matter how many times I get screwed over by people for loving, being truthful, trusting, and having faith, I know, not even very deep down, in fact on the surface enough for them to wonder how the hell it's possible, that really, I am happy. <br /><br />I just wish they were too.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-46517390202452107782008-02-20T07:18:00.004+08:002008-02-20T07:21:39.731+08:00I'll put a spell on you<i>and when you wake up/you'll realise that you love me.</i><br /><br />It's nice, I guess, that I'm happy for people. Besides, I'm fairly happy myself. Busy, a little stressed, dealing with constantly shifting friendship dynamics, but mostly happy.<br /><br />It just gets a little lonely sometimes, and real hugs aren't all that easy to come by.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-52634252489015983972008-02-17T22:30:00.003+08:002008-02-17T22:42:58.406+08:00Clearly, Someone does know.<i>From the newsletter in church today</i><br /><br />Though God is an almighty lover, he can find himself shut out, and he longs to find an open door of vulnerability in us. It is extraordinarily hard for us to realise this, conditioned as we are by a secular ethic of success and a religious ideal of moral perfection, which may owe little to the gospel. God calls us, implants his life in the deepest centre of our being at baptism, and loves us into growth. He does not propose to us some lofty, rigid ideal to which we must attain by our own unaided human resources. We are more sinful than we know, more deeply flawed than we can recognise by any human insight; but grace works in us in the deepest places of body and spirit. We must live from our weakness, from the barren places of our need, because there is the spring of grace and the source of our strength, as Paul discovered: "When I am weak, then I am strong." When we can stand before God in the truth of our need, acknowledging our sinfulness and bankruptcy, then we can celebrate his mercy. Then we are living by grace, and we can allow full scope to his joy.<br /><br />For many of us it is difficult to live honestly from this place of failure and weakness. Even if we know with our heads we should, we may still slip back into the old attitudes and behave as though God were expecting us to succeed and making his love conditional upon our achievements. If we have become hardened in such an attitude it may take some deep experience of failure to disabuse us. When a crisis occurs I may find in myself the sheer moral impossibility of obeying God. It is not simply a matter of emotional rebellion, or of knowing that "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak"; the will itself is unwilling. I am rebellious to the core and do not even <i>want</i> to want God's will. Perhaps I can push it one stage further from me, and say with a kind of tortured effort, "I want to want to want your will," and then ask myself if there is even a grain of honesty or good will in that. I am helpless; and as the father of the epileptic boy cried out to Jesus, "I do believe, help my unbelief," so I can only say to God, "I am rebellious down to my roots, help me." <br /><br />Here, as we teeter on the edge of despair, beset by every kind of temptation and feeling as though we had already fallen, the Spirit is released. This is his own place, the deepest place of our being where he is wedded to our spirit, where he can act and give life, where he can free us from all that hampers the true thrust of our will. God himself creates our freedom; he gives us freedom as his continuing gift of love, and he alone can influence it from within, in no way violating or diminishing it. Entombed Lazarus is a sign not simply of a certain group of people who have obviously closed their hearts against Jesus, but of each one of us. In this hopeless situation, where you are nothing but stark failure, you know the miracle of grace. This tomb is the place of resurrection, and if you believe, you will see the glory of God.<br /><br />(Maria Boulding OSB, <i>Gateway to Hope</i>, London 1985, pp.109 - 10)<br /><br />He's actually really good at this 'right time, right place, right words' thing.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-71270470088349958472008-02-16T06:52:00.002+08:002008-02-16T06:59:08.996+08:00Just more than halfwayAnd still not there yet.<br /><br />Internship applications, essays, portfolios, deadlines, dissertations, tickets, being around, being involved, perfection, ability, trying hard enough, being uninvolved, falling away, inability, just basically sleeping through everything...and sometimes it all amounts to too much. Though technically, it never really is. And that's the frustrating thing. That it can never be too much. And so I can never not handle it. And therefore shouldn't need anyone around. Because I have Someone. The One.<br /><br />And though that gives enough comfort to keep me sane, I guess I'm not strong enough for that to give enough comfort, period, though it should. It probably does. It actually does. I just wish there was someone who knew, too.<br /><br /><i>I miss you, best friend.</i>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-50176275583487493952008-02-13T04:18:00.000+08:002008-02-13T04:19:17.992+08:00Just because.<h2>The Five Love Languages</h2>My primary love language is probably<br /><big><b>Quality Time</b></big><br />with a secondary love language being<br /><big><b>Physical Touch</b></big>.<br /><br /><h2>Complete set of results</h2><table border='0' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0'><tr><td>Quality Time: </td><td width='20'> </td><td>11</td></tr><tr><td>Physical Touch: </td><td width='20'> </td><td>8</td></tr><tr><td>Words of Affirmation: </td><td width='20'> </td><td>6</td></tr><tr><td>Acts of Service: </td><td width='20'> </td><td>5</td></tr><tr><td>Receiving Gifts: </td><td width='20'> </td><td>0</td></tr></table><br /><br /> <h2>Information</h2> Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.<br /><br /><a href='http://www.youthnetsouthampton.org.uk/breakout/lovelanguages.php' target='_blank'>Take the quiz</a><br /><br /><br />No surprises, really. Ah well.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-27114783639145274202008-02-05T05:06:00.000+08:002008-02-05T05:08:28.925+08:00On a completely random note, I have the best friends in the entire world. In at least 2 different countries, on 2 different continents.<br /><br />One never requires a reason to be happy :)<br /><br />(might have been the hobnobs.)livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-87617344270392268562008-01-29T06:39:00.001+08:002008-01-29T06:39:38.039+08:00ahem.<object width="425" height="373"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IYUjAgfhj9c&rel=1&border=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IYUjAgfhj9c&rel=1&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"></embed></object><br /><br />Died laughing.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-39199018651699116802008-01-20T03:10:00.000+08:002008-01-20T03:44:07.409+08:00Guilty PurchasesAfter a jam session where I realised the most contemporary songs I could play off by ear/by heart (essentially the same thing) were the Backstreet Boys, AND walking past Fopp and realising they had an amazing clearout sale happening, I bought:<br /><br />Gary Jules, Trading Snakecoil for Wolftickets - £1<br />Richard Ashcroft, Keys to the World - £2<br />Oasis, Familiar to Millions - £3<br /><br />Which, even if I convert it to S$, is $18 for 3 albums! C'mon, you've got to admit it was a bargain. Then, because I had a couple of coins left from the $10 I had broken, I walked into the clearance Galloway & Porters on Sidney Street...a bad idea if I don't want to buy anything, because there's inadvertently something I like at a ridiculously low price, and bought a huge tome of 'Best Loved Poems' for £2.95.<br /><br />Am content now, and have also rationalised away all shopping urges for about 2 more weeks. Who needs new clothes when there are new cds and new books to be had? Also, new jamming possibilities! At this cool event held in a cafe called Songs in the Dark. Maaaybe. We'll see. But I'll have to brush up on picking songs up, am definitely rusty.<br /><br />Other things I might finally get round to doing? Enter a couple of poetry competitions, start playing classical piano (with scores this time!) again, get back into learning French, finishing essays, trying to go for a poetry reading (stop organising formals on poetry reading days!) and looking for the elusive poetry slammers of Cambridge. They're bound to be here somewhere...<br /><br />It's all looking good though. And I glad that I'm where I am, when I am, with the people I am, and with who I am. I think one might call this peace.<br /><br /><i><center>We are the music-makers,<br />And we are the dreamers of dreams,<br />Wandering by lone sea-breakers,<br />And sitting by desolate streams;<br />World-losers and world-forsakers,<br />On whom the pale moon gleams:<br />Yet we are the movers and shakers<br />Of the world for ever, it seems.</i><br /><br /><b>Ode, Arthur O'Shaughnessy</b></center>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-64734689850550414632008-01-18T16:26:00.000+08:002008-01-18T16:30:48.977+08:00::finally::<b>If</b><br /><i>Rudyard Kippling</i><br /><br />If you can keep your head when all about you <br />Are losing theirs and blaming it on you.<br />If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,<br />But make allowance for their doubting too;<br /><br />If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,<br />Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,<br />Or being hated, don't give way to hating,<br />And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:<br /><br />If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;<br />If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;<br />If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster<br />And treat these two impostors just the same;<br /><br />If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken<br />Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,<br />Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,<br />And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:<br /><br />If you can make one heap of all your winnings<br />And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,<br />And lose, and start again at your beginnings<br />And never breathe a word about your loss;<br /><br />If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew<br />To serve your turn long after they are gone,<br />And so hold on when there is nothing in you<br />Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'<br /><br />If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,<br />Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,<br />If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,<br />If all men count with you, but none too much;<br /><br />If you can fill the unforgiving minute<br />With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,<br />Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,<br />And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!<br /><br />While I reiterate that I'm <i>not</i> a man, nor do I want to be...'If' pretty much sums up the attitude that's gonna be necessary now. <br /><br />And I'm proud of myself. Dissertation draft done, up on time, room tidied, books to be borrowed planned...weekend (kinda) sorted. Here's to a great Lent.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-10377277343819810182007-12-16T02:08:00.000+08:002007-12-16T02:41:39.094+08:00It was a beautiful dayWith things which reminded us nothing could be perfect.<br /><br />More snow than I've seen in my life, more fear on the top of a slope than I've felt in my life, more tears than I'm proud of, more happiness than I thought actually doing it...and more comfort drawn from the clowns than I thought possible :)<br /><br />Skiing was...not less terrifying than I thought it'd be, knowing I never was comfortable with heights, speed, and diminished control...which is exactly what skiing combines. It took me to the last day to dare to trust me, and helluva lot of patience on the Jons' part (one more than the other, but heyyy sometimes one needs yelling to get things done ;)) <br /><br />Am quite gutted my camera died on me, and also that I didn't pick actual skiing up fast enough to actually <span style="font-style:italic;">go</span> skiing with the boys - probably something that's gonna take me some time to get over. There's really nothing more frustrating than knowing you could if you would, but that you won't because you're just too stupidly scared. Sitting inside watching people on the slopes was, well, not fun. And then being bored out of my mind on the magic carpet, but close to tears at the idea of another steep slope. But then the feeling of skiing down the slope I'd taken my skis off and walked down a couple of days before was nothing short of amazing. It really was a shame it was only on the last day...but then, now I can really say I want to go back next year. And I didn't, two days ago.<br /><br />Also, I've got a proper injury. Ow, my knee. :D<br /><br />Learnt more than skiing this week, too. Lessons I guess it's about time I decided to retain. <br /><br />Was it fantastic? Well, no, there were disappointments. But mostly of my own making. And I had the best time with the best friends I have here. So yes, I'll be going back. Varsity 2008, we'll be there :)livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-3937843877015981272007-12-07T08:56:00.000+08:002007-12-07T08:57:47.329+08:00Valerie is...<br /><br />finding it pleasantly but curiously ironic that in researching for her dissertation, she ends up using pages designed for NUS USP programmes.<br /><br />She's also slightly disturbed that she now phrases things in terms of facebook statuses.<br /><br />Oh dear.<br /><br />On a side note: VARSITY VARSITY VARSITY!livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-70406580216233345542007-12-07T01:52:00.000+08:002007-12-07T01:54:43.069+08:00Content.I've had a productive day. Finished a good part of my dissertation draft, have ideas about my portfolio essay, but most importantly, FOUND THE LAUNDRETTE. Clothes are now spinning happily in the washer. There are 2 salmon fish cakes baking in the oven, and I'm now making up a list of what to bring for Varsity.<br /><br />I <i>think</i> I might just have finally gotten things under control. <br /><br />:)livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-66640394899307290732007-12-01T01:59:00.000+08:002007-12-01T02:08:01.933+08:00Dear friend I love you<span style="font-style:italic;">are your sheets warm tonight?</span><br /><br />Last days are funny things. Last days of term, last days of months, last days of week(days), last days in places, last days of places. Kind of like, ends of beginnings, but beginnings of ends. <br /><br />I've had an...interesting term. Learnt much, lived much, loved much. And really, what more could be asked? <br /><br />And in the spirit of beginnings and ends...<br /><br />The view from my old room at dusk<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Xb7CFOZ1SMZWHCJt3ixrIgQeXfmyB9GqhpOtshmLZfjKkKD76FQAoftroad8xyIgdF-zQ1shkaiHUmAtK_3KsCWVEP6h_dRtXHNKBHpna7GeaQThe9YaIv5peHOsUncHWWkS/s1600-r/DSCF0509.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGMQHb4KgXD2pWwVFC83MnLf7H3GbQvUJ2vFcMtgsOPCiikRDjloXMCEbfHDR2m3Tmqejom1NIpuT4RAuBxLhOAD1PAWKHS3O3tgt9dQXxWfi3I3yfHW4o83VyciabLIsQTg43/s320/DSCF0509.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138696500035177074" /></a><br /><br />My new room in the morning<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZEyLSBPYueTVQj5vkyiL9MQ2ARaSD3JmWxSPpA53ffkYIMuTEjn6Fez7cBxoW9uzI32AhFhdudS78602eMLb0PFKnkPdXZy6HVcxDXJfw1c4yeB8COt6rLlbtVY5HviuoohJX/s1600-r/DSCF0536.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRcSqW-OzBIRDjDdlE8hdPl0Q3KBjSCoZE3SeIjaVugj5mOwbhXXqh0K7dTPa7NIK2RgnFeWClCzpr5ZMjhWhdG9v3H3Eo-ZC6gUXVk5PIP7MElUR2UlgZoYa6OUxNoS52Dn9/s320/DSCF0536.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138696504330144386" /></a><br /><br />Here's to Advent, Christmas, and the New Year.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-79166109863117391482007-11-19T08:12:00.001+08:002007-11-19T08:12:27.181+08:00Resolution and IndependenceThere was a roaring in the wind all night,<br />The rain came heavily and fell in floods;<br />But now the sun is rising calm and bright;<br />The birds are singing in the distant woods;<br />Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods;<br />The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters<br />And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.<br /><br /><i>Wordsworth</i><br /><br />There <i>was</i> a roaring in the wind all night. And all afternoon, too. And the rain <i>did</i> come heavily and fall in floods. I am, happily, sat in the warmth of my room. Hopefully, this essay will be done <i>before</i> the sun rises calm and bright. I can do without hearing the birds singing in the (not-so) distant woods, thank you..livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-68898042121956986572007-11-13T20:54:00.001+08:002007-11-13T20:59:28.023+08:00Six weeks, three to goDon't get me wrong. I love cambridge. And every time I leave it's a painful tearing away. But everybody gets homesick sometimes. And I find myself yearning for home. For simple love, for honest affection, for people who would never lie to me, or hurt me, and who really, genuinely care. <br /><br />And then I think about it, and I think, well, isn't that really quite selfish? It shouldn't all be about me. I've had that simple love, honest affection, and sincerity, for 21 years. Surely I can handle being away from all that, for 9 months a year. And I can. I have. But I'm tired.<br /><br />And sometimes all I really want to do is go home.<br /><br /><i>where the streets have no name</i>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-67277234022514279052007-10-31T11:49:00.000+08:002007-10-31T11:50:15.540+08:00I see now why people who study overseas often come home a lot colder. There really isn't any other choice.livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-88527878464801661422007-09-20T16:39:00.000+08:002007-09-20T16:41:27.928+08:00So kiss me and smile for meDeparture time: 9am, Changi Airport. <br /><br />I don't expect anyone to be there, cuz I'm gonna be going in around 8ish, and frankly that's waaaay too early. Shane if you turn up I'm calling your mother. <br /><br />It's been great.<br /><br />I can't find my passport. It could be better :p<br /><br />Going to go look for it, and finish up packing now. <br /><br />Cambridge, I'm coming hoooooome baby ;)livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-72094380102463067882007-09-07T10:11:00.000+08:002007-09-07T10:12:33.037+08:00The Jeweller's ShopYour love is better than ice cream<br />Better than anything else that I’ve tried<br />And your love is better than ice cream<br />Everyone here know how to fight<br /><br />And it’s a long way down<br />It’s a long way down<br />It’s a long way down to the place<br />Where we started from<br /><br />Your love is better than chocolate<br />Better than anything else that I’ve tried<br />Oh love is better than chocolate<br />Everyone here knows how to cry<br /><br />It’s a long way down<br />It’s a long way down<br />It’s a long way down to the place<br />Where we started from... <br /><br /><i> Sarah McLachlan, Ice Cream </I>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-75059711819969001142007-08-27T23:07:00.000+08:002007-08-27T23:09:26.451+08:00<b>Vanessa Carlton, Paradise</b><br /><center><i>Once upon a year gone by <br />she saw herself give in <br />every time she closed her eyes <br />she saw what could have been <br />well nothing hurts and nothing bleeds <br />when covers tucked in tight <br />funny when the bottom drops <br />how she forgets to fight... to fight <br /><br />And it's one more day in paradise <br />one more day in paradise <br /><br />As darkness quickly steals the light <br />that shined within her eyes <br />she slowly swallows all her fear <br />and soothes her mind with lies <br />well all she wants and all she needs <br />are reasons to survive <br />a day in which the sun will take <br />her artificial light... her light <br /><br />And it's one more day in paradise <br />one more day in paradise <br />it's one more day in paradise <br />one last chance to feel alright... alright <br /><br />Don't pretend to hold it in just let it out <br />don't pretend to hold it in just push it out <br />don't you try to hold it in just let it out and <br />don't you try to hold it in you hold it in <br /></i></center>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10314782.post-25716065976998566382007-08-13T10:30:00.000+08:002007-08-13T11:29:36.166+08:00Summer lovin'<i> happened so fast </i><br /><br />It did, didn't it. It's been over a month since I've come home, and I've got just over a month till I go back. I'm not complaining either way though. It's been a brilliant holiday so far...french classes, lindy hop (finally convinced someone to go with me :D), dancing in a play, poetry slamming, found a writers' circle, relief teaching, poetry teaching, SINGFEST (STRANGLERS.SHAGGY.SUGARRAY.THESASHABACHBAND.CINDYLAUPER.PETSHOPBOYS. wish i could have gone for the second day); and on the horizon, possibly kickboxing and definitely Funeral for a Friend. In between I've managed to read...ohhh about 7 books, 4 of which are no where NEAR being on my reading list. But it's all good.<br /><br />I love home. I love Cambridge too, though. The intensity of both loves worries me. If I end up being the kind of person who falls in love with every place she spends more than a month in, I'm gonna be rootedly screwed when it comes to deciding where I want to stay. And I want to stay SOMEWHERE. No nomadic lifestyle choice here, thanks. Might help if the boy has strong opinions...assuming there's a boy in the first place. Right now, just to clear things up, there isn't. Which is - really quite alright. And I surprise myself saying that, seeing as how it WASN'T quite alright just a couple of months ago. I really <i>don't</i> seem to feel the need for another half at this point...I'm feeling quite whole as it is. Which is nice. I'm hoping it's not merely because I'm home and therefore helluva lot more secure. Hoping that maybe I've reached some kind of transcendental maturity, emotions wise ;) thinking that's probably quite unlikely and that when I go back to Cam it's all gonna start again. OhWell.<br /><br />I've been doing a little soul-searching since coming home. Didn't really like the person I was becoming in Cam, didn't always like the things she was doing, was agreeing to do and beginning to enjoy doing. And the things she was surreptitiously choosing <i>not</i> to do, even though she wanted to or felt she should. But things are pretty intense, and happen really fast. I never really got a chance to stop and think (though chances to cry over it I had ample), and question. I've decided the only person responsible is me. I guess my need for people too often took precedence over beliefs and behaviourial choices I should have made, or made clear. And when it comes to it, I'm for some reason strangely insecure there...and ok, fine Shane, naturally quite manja. Lack of affection rattles me. Which, I suppose, accounts for my emo-ness, and the generally annoying personality which was beginning to form. I think she was still around, the first couple of weeks home. But she's pretty much disappeared now, I hope...and the nicer results of being away from home are (also hopefully) beginning to show. Like a thicker skin, for example ;) Though still not as thick as it could be. Not sure if I want it any thicker, to be honest. People should realise words hurt, regardless of long-term intent.<br /><br />The other bone I had to pick with me was the distance I was allowing to form between me and God. I'm not sure if allowing is the right word. Many times I deliberately turned away...guilt's not a nice feeling, and my reasoning went, the further away I am from God, the less guilt I'll feel, right? Well, right, to a point. 'cept I suppose it makes a difference when you <i>know</i> He's still around, waiting patiently for you to come back to your senses. I do a lot of sulking in my prayers. Most prayers went something like.."I KNOW I shouldn't have. But it was so much easier to...and look, I'm here all alone. Alloooone. The least you could do was send me ONE person who'd understand. But nooooo. *sulk*" SomeoneWho'dUnderstand hasn't shown up yet...but I figure it's only a matter of time. And I got the reassuarance I needed from someone I really respect, here at home. It's so much easier to be Catholic, here. Going to Church isn't something you have to plan for, making the right decisions aren't really decisions at all, and, I feel, most essentially...there are Catholics too. Catholics who pray, who sing, who face problems and share them together. Who think, who read, who question, who believe. Who are there to love, and to advise, and to hug. Just...Catholics who are <i>there</i>. I don't know what I would have done if I had come home, and the people I knew to be there just...weren't. In Cam I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle, if I'm fighting at all. Here...I'm part of an army. Which is...empowering, I guess. So while waiting for SomeoneWho'dUnderstand to show up, I'll just wait, and pray, and build. <br /><br />Still there? Amazing. And if you've skipped the words, I'll summarize it for you. <b>I'm so glad I'm home. </b><br /><br />But I can't wait to go back, either. I miss the kids, I miss the place, I miss the books...I miss the learning. AND I want to take up modern dance, I want to start a poetry slam club, I want to start a weekly Ask-the-Priest thing in my room. I want to work on my diss (I could work on it now, really...I should, actually. But hey.), I want to keep writing poems, I want to write in literary journals. I want to punt, want to learn horseback riding, can't wait for the ski trip at the end of the year. I want to keep doing French and pick up Spanish, I want to win book prizes and travel grants and build an army. <br /><br />And to top it all, I'm 21 in just over a month. No, I don't want any presents. I've got all I need. I've got the best friends, the best family, the best (the only, really) God...I don't need any presents. Just your laughter, your hugs, and your prayers. :)<br /><br /><i>I want to be that matchstick.</i>livestonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11757512983439797873noreply@blogger.com2