Latest Newsflash

In an attempt to increase her intelligence (which, by the way, has no scientific proofing), Sharon Yan has taken to consume milk excessively, resulting in an emergency shortage of world's milk supply.

Milk prices have been known to have shot up by a minimum of $0.50, affecting mostly children and incurring the wrath of many mothers.

People in Singapore are especially concerned and have started up a "Stop Depleting Our Milk Supply Movement" to express their worries.

Numerous protesters have been seen parading the streets with cardboards, "Have you seen our milk?" and "Sharon. Got milk?"

When contacted, the founder of this movement, Miss Bebe, declined to comment further.

This, is believed to be the first serious case of massive shortage of milk. And fingers are pointed to this one person, Miss Yan.

Meanwhile, Miss Yan has agreed to be interviewed. So please stay tuned for the unfolding of this milk saga.

I want to break free!

Sometimes I look in the mirror and see the steel and chainmails I'm clad in. I'm not sure what had happened that made me put them on, but one thing i know - it is time to take them off.

$$

The $pending $isters have a chocolate egg pact.

"I promise."

Two individuals, two simple words, one sisterhood for life.

Shh!

I probably remind you of your incompleteness and aching need - and that makes you afraid and insecure. Anger stems from fear. You fear the power I might have more than you ever would. And people always fear what they don't understand.

Remember that the river flows into the ocean, and the mountain overlooks the hill. You are tough (perhaps), but you could be no match for me.

I think of you, your silly nonsense, I think of myself, agitated by childish chatter, and I chuckled softly.

Maybe that's the way it's supposed to me.

Silence, on my part, is indeed, golden.

Haven't we all felt this way before?

Without fail, the newspapers daily carried reports of death. Death by sickness, murder, suicide, death of every and any kind.

Today was no difference. This part of the world has scaling death statistics caused by a famine. That part of the world has people dying from a flash flood. Everyday, hundreds or thousands of people die silent deaths. They became reading material, you shake your head at the sad news, then you forget about them as time goes by.

For that split moment this day, she saw past all of what was before her: her color TV set, the dirty windows in the living room, the grass outside growing tall enough for the wind to catch, the shapes and lines of her house. Everything was still the same, it was the mood and the tone that had shifted, the colors of the world that flooded in, the reds and yellows, oranges and purples. The world seemed to come alive in her eyes.

She realised then, how flimsy life was.

"I will start living for the day", she resolved. She would live out her wildest dreams, chuck the job she hated so much, take up a new language, go on a round-the-world trip, sit on all the roller-coaster rides that she could and eat all the ice-cream there were. For she may be dead tomorrow.

Six months later...she was still in the same job. Her spur-of-the-moment thoughts have died a silent death...

Chosen silence.

We are all learning, stumbling but learning with every step of life.

We understand failures and sufferings, triumph and pride.

Is it me, who have become bitter and resentful and immensely selfish?

I can imagine a dozen Perfect Friends in my life, but what is the use? You probably could imagine a dozen More Perfect Friends too.

At the end of the day, we are who we are. Because, love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image... otherwise, we love only the reflection of our idealism we find in them.

My silence in chosen, simply, just simply, because I love you so.

If I died,

Who will wonder if I knew how much they loved me? What songs would they hear that reminds them of me, how long would it take them to get over me, for it to stop hurting and stop missing me.

Telling a friend, "I love you," is a big deal for me. It is a powerful expression for me - the depth, the magnitude, the extent.

The three words from me to you is a promise. "I love you" means different things to different people. To some, it's a declaration of eternity. So it's a phrase they reserve for those they'd take a bullet for, and for family (because even if you hate them, you'll always love them. You're born with that.)

To me, it's simply trust and...more trust. It's handing my heart to you on a platter and believing that you'll take care of it. It is a confession of how much I'm willing to sacrifice and that no matter how far away you go or how different we may become - it's only a matter of time - that when I see your face I will find strength.

And vice versa. You can look for me. I'll always be here.

FAQs

Q) Why do people hang on to their pains and sufferings as if they are treasures?

A: Because even though they say they do not want them, in fact they are quite comfortable holding on to them since they are known, recognised and give identity to the holder.

Most people have the fear of the unknown and therefore believe in the old saying, “A known devil is better than an unknown one.” Many of us psychologically enjoy the attention we get due to the suffering and pain we bear, and so hold on the problems and the identity they build for us.

We may even do this unconsciously. At times we may remain in the identity because we simply lack the courage and conviction needed to create positive change.

Sighs, exactly...

Mid-twenties job & life crisis

The title says it all.

I am alone at a crossroad. I don't know where I belong.

Meaningful Stealings

Not my own post, but something someone wrote and it connects to what I am feeling.

***************************************************

"The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference."

I can't remember when or where I came across this. It was a long time ago but it stuck.
How quickly love flips into anger. How unpredictably, love splinters into a hundred sharp edges.

How agonising, that the one you loved who loved you in return, becomes an opponent in a tug of war spliced with pride, hurt, blame, guilt, unkind words, sleepless nights and troubled days.
I used to think love is all about tenderness. Of affection and harmony. I also believed that hate and anger had no place in a relationship.

Not anymore.

So go on. Have your say. Feel the depths of your wrath. Know how deeply someone has reached inside you. Do whatever you want. Say whatever you want. Don't feel you have to suppress your emotions even if they're 'wrong'. But just like with freedom and democracy comes responsibility, so too, in love. You bear the consequences of how you decide to behave or what you say.

As much as love grows, it is also forged.