Would you go to the bottom of a deep, dry well?

Today I decided to look at your face, listen to your words wholeheartedly, and found myself catching the contagion of your joy. Most times I easily dismiss the notion of positive-thinking, because it really does sound like a load of hogwash. As if saying to yourself Be Happy repeatedly will bring love, joy, peace, happiness! But I suppose Descartes’ supposition, ‘I think, therefore I am’ has a ring of truth to it, because action changes with perception. There was a popular song playing on the radio today at work, about the lives’ of others not necessarily being better than the one you’re leading. And I suppose it strikes close to home, in that contentment starts now, and not tomorrow. I have to keep reminding myself I have the freedom to do anything I want, that I am not locked behind a life of bars, of restricted movement, of being subjected to constant injustice. And I can use this freedom, to run and dance for justice and make someone’s life a little bit happier. I think I can learn a lot from people who do not have what I have, but having what I do not have. Aren’t we living for more than our little hearts? I mean, who do we think we are to squander this time, this life?

No matter how sad you are, there is always a sense of joy behind the tears (the rainbow behind the rain?). And while you didn’t say anything particularly profound today, being in your presence lifted my spirits. I wonder why I don’t always listen more closely to you, instead brushing away precious time spent with you thoughtlessly. We always think there is more time. But what if we lose all today? Could’ve, Should’ve, Would’ve. C’s remarked stung, but I’m learning from him to appreciate the people I have around me now (not later) and to learn about their hearts - what makes it tickle and what makes it shiver.

I watched you walked away, and realised your spirit makes a difference. I want to be that sort of person, you know? To be more than idealistic, to dream beyond the horizon and not be disappointed even though life doesn’t always turn out the way I want it to, and people don’t become who I expect them to be. I don’t want to stay cloaked in ‘realism’ forever. It’s just a euphemism for pessimism.

we’re more alike than you might think

dear friend,
you flatter me. inspiration? thank you, but i can’t see why. i guess it is a new start, and honestly, it’s semi-refreshing, because it doesn’t feel like the usual facade you put up (or less than usual, anyway). like kurt vonnegut said, ‘we are what we pretend to be‘. i don’t really agree with him, but i think what we portray to others more or less becomes part of who we are, whether we realise it or not. remember when we just couldn’t work through honesty and transparency? i must admit, i gave up. couldn’t figure it out, so what else did i know to do but to let it slip through the cracks… it’s easier that way, isn’t it? your writing has become more polished over the years (but if you ever write a book, i will edit it for you), even though you never capitalise your letters and still leave out apostrophes (if anything, lack of apostrophes at the appropriate places irks me to bits). it’s much more refined and thoughtful, as if you’d spent several train rides sifting through the contents of your mind. it’s still beautiful in its own way, nonetheless. and it especially shines through when there’s an element of vulnerability and real honesty.

i think it’s my turn to feel like ‘fleeting fashion’ with you. funny how we can never really be on the same wavelength – one stops trying but the other keeps on going, and the cycle never stops. i wonder if we’d converge at the same point one day, free from the webs of our words. it’s what brings us together, but also what seems to divide us. let’s hope our capacity to love never stops growing – i mean, can you even reach the brink of love? so keep the good faith up – you never know who you’ll inspire.

(even though i suppose it isn’t about ‘inspiring’ per se, but fighting the right fights and running this race the best we can.)

on the shoulders of midgets (carry me on)

i found it accidentally, and i wish it revealed more. i think it gave me a small glimpse of your mind, and i’m surprised i thought i knew you better. assumptions never get me far, especially with characters like you.

i wonder how much your philosophy in life has changed since. i wonder how far you’ve come, how short the distance was.

the rock and the hard place… my friend used that phrase the other day and it suddenly reminded me of you, because i’d never heard it before and i thought it was something you’d coined. which brings me to: you’re not an island and i wish i could ingrain that in your soul. we weren’t made to be, anyway.

isolation and disconnection seems to be my theme lately, and i’m wishing crawling out is an easy thing to do.

(and we’re screaming, this is our personal disaffection)

if only we all knew(know) real love.

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It’s not that we’re scared… it’s just that it’s delicate.

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you’ve borrowed
From the only place you’ve known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

- Damien Rice

stretching ties

Dearest B,

Merry Christmas! It’s time to be reminded of God’s ultimate sacrifice for us again, amidst the commercialisation of Xmas. Sometimes I get so caught up in the activities and festivities that I lose sight of why we celebrate Christmas: God becoming human so that we can know the One who created us.

You may not know, but being your friend and trying to love you has been a real blessing but a real challenge at the same time. I guess this year I have been forced to choose and know what I really believe in. Thank you for being who you are and for being a big part of my life in two thousand and six. I hope that this next year our friendship will continue to blossom. Cheers darlin’!

Love always,
R

finding something

This was supposed to arrive as a separate letter, but I never got around to sending the first one, so PART II is here, in the same envelope. Anyway, I really do hope that this will reach you in time, before you leave for Thailand. Let’s catch up in January when you return, okay?

Last night was the Fungus Fairy Tale Ball, our last youth rally for Two Thousand and Six. Chara and Adora were the MCs, and they were hilarious (well, I think so anyway!). I went to church everyday (except Wednesday) last week to help out for the rally and Christmas, as if to compensate for the year when I had been M.I.A. from church. The rally ran over two nights, and today I realised that I haven’t felt so happy in the company of people since I don’t know when. The kids in Fungus are mostly younger than me, and a lot of them are still at that age where their innocence is not so tainted and they still live with idealistic dreams… and being around them is so much more easier; and in some ways, freeing. I don’t feel like I am being judged in a harmful sort of way and their exuberance is contagious, which I really love about them. They teach me how to be crazy again, something I miss being. The past few months, though I’ve grown and so forth, I feel as if the humour and laughter and spark in me has been subdued, turning me into a dull, brooding, moody, extra critical, super cynical beast. It’s a healing process, all this, toward wholeness; for that I am very thankful to God for allowing me to rediscover these amazing people and giving me the freedom to let loose, be myself, and live.

Well, what else can I say? Send me postcards!

“Be joyful in hope,
patient in affliction,
faithful in prayer.”
- Romans 12:12