Who is on who's side?

'Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, "Are you for us or for our enemies?"

"Neither," he replied, "but as a commander of the army of the Lord I have now come."
Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, "What message does my Lord have for his servant?"'

Joshua 5: 13-14

It is not about whose side is God on....
But the real question is "Are you on His side?". The battle is not Joshua's but Christ's.

Rev. Kong Hee.

Choice..

If you don't live out your dream, you'll be a victim of self-abuse. That's a choice.

he.

He caught my eyes. He sure did. The stripes and the perfect khaki tone of his top and the bottom garment scripted his simplistic personality. He had a layer of thin coat on one side of his shoulder and the sound of the train lady had finally reached his hypothalamus.

He dazed as he opened his eyes and lifted his body altogether; pulling his wheeled upright out of the filled-up compartment. His hair was tossed as it met the wind of the city. Bright day it was.

He followed the crowd and dissolved away before my very eyes, in that short moment.

Tourists...they do catch my attention.

Theory...

...too much of it, makes me sick.

Drift away.

Because everyone needs a little bit of fantasy
The kind that excuses you out of reality
to dwell in the precious minutes of liberty
True freedom....
where gravity doesn't mean a thing
and you could be
whatever you want to be
or do whatever you thought you could
because in your fantasy, nothing could stop you..
because those that matter
are your desire to press on..
or to simply stop.
But that you have to choose.

....

I would say it was partly of the hype but the man was definitely wearing his charisma. There was that trail of wisdom that not many people were blessed with. Anyone could tell. He was calm and confident and when words came out of his mouth, he sounded like an honorable man.

"Life is good...life is good..if it is lived according to God's plan."

so hot!

I was browsing through the recently released list of Chem Eng Final Year Projects (FYP) and half chanted to myself that life will be more interesting with splashes of varieties. Exactly. Life is already like movie, a motion picture that involves no 'cut' scene and one won't live to see when the curtain rolled down after the list of credits ran up the screen. And even more, life is like a combination of the many movie genre all packed in one roll. Sometimes, it is filled with comedy like joking around with friends, adventurous genre like a shopping spree with your girls or even romantic scenes when some hot korean proposed to you *i wish*. But sometimes, yes, sometimes horror movies should be allowed in too.

So that one day, you can tell your children and your grandchildren and your great great grandchildren that hey, mommy/grandma/ great grandma had once done FYP too. FYP, my dear. It is the FYP! Yes, that Final Year Project that you are complaining the entire day. That thing that made you pleaded to change major so you don't have to face or even glanced at the list of projects you are supposed to do.
Hence, the luxury of saying, "No excuse, my younger ones."

Or even better. You could tell your cousins, the one time cousin or the second time cousins and the far far cousins that..yeah.."i completed FYP!" Then, they'll nod and conclude in justice that the reason behind your panda eyes is blamed on the long labourious hours you spent in the lab instead of watching you tube all day or korean shows all night.

Anyway, my point is. When I keep repeating this word FYP, i can't fail to notice how closed it rhymes to this word JYP. Yes, JYP. Repeat after me: JYP, the creator of Wonder Girls. Wonder girls, the reason behind my recent panda eyes. Because their song is sooo catchy, especially the one titled: So hot!
Im so so so.. hot hot!

Christianity..

"Did you know when people talk of Christianity as a world religion they are quite wrong? A religion is a system and Jesus left no system."

Reinhard Bonnke

shud i ...shud i not?

Gosh..I can't make up my mind. A part of me is dying to go home (back to indonesia) and a part of me says my schedule can't fit any good time. The fact is, one week is never enuf to be at home besides, the last time i checked, i probably have less than a week. Now, how??

To be frank, I've made up my mind, that I'm not going home..but but..as time passed, my heart...protested!

So, heart or mind wins?

Let's apply some pro-con thing.... urrghh.. too boring let's just reason out and see whether it makes sense...or make more sense

1. Going back home
Reasons:
- I can eat a lot of pork and meat and beef and more meat.
- I get to spend time with bradar and sista who definitely miss me so much for not seeing me like gazillion years now...plus bradar need some good lecture on 'how to be a real man growing up instead of staring in the mirror for two hours and strumming imaginary guitar acting like Jonas brothers background singer...*yeah im the meanest sista he has ever have*
- I get to see Ahu...my one and only granny who is missing me everyday now..im sure :)
- I get to ....again eat more healthier stuffs, those that i can't cook myself here
- I get to meet with my fattened cousins who had grown sideways faster than he had grown taller...but still adorabel..
- I get to...*thinking hard *..erm now let's get to the other one first.. Pause mode : ON




2. Staying in Singapore
Reasons:
- Save that few hundred dollars on air ticket which might not worth less than a week trip
- Nothing else.



Ok...hope this convince me. :)

It feels like a slow mundane air that breeds searchful hearts. Even as the sky painted solid blue and white in justice of a perceptive imagination. For what the world offers isn't enough to reach that disparage chasm in between. And i look outside to find an answer as a remedy to soothe the pain.the longing. the emptiness. You..the epitome of my obsession.

Because the rest simply fall short.

Human wisdom

Just the mention of the word God, could trigger tonnes of questions within me. Questions that raise my guard and pushed faith a step back... a few steps back. I would ponder on them day by day... before they slipped away, forgotten.

Yet soon, they'll creeped in again.. through my mental door of mind; silently, knocking in persistence. They are like an endless road. Like an unquenched thirst for explanations that my mind can never satisfy. I did not refuse them. Never. I did not condemn such act. No. I celebrate it, I applaud searchful mind that doesn't conform or be satisfied with mere information that church leaders opt to share.


Yet, as the song goes:
There's NO WAY i can compare You with what I know
There's NO WAY i can compare You with what I feel



"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom."

Isa40:28

There are times when I feel like slipping in beneath my thick blanket, to just lie under the warmth and let the world passes me by. Like a coccoon protection that covers the embodiments for a period of time..yes just for a short while; those moments of escapism from all human contacts and touch. A form of indulgence that i know is never the right choice, because i know, when i yearn for moments like this, something isn't quite right. But like a smoker that understands the nature of its 'condiments', I long for such moments despite being aware of the consequences.

It is time like this that knocks silently when there's so much negativity standing beside me. By that i mean, my personal comprehension of negativity, and most of the time it is when my period comes (now blame it on the moon, woman!). Or maybe it isn't just about what i feel but people's action truly came up beyond my expectation.

I learnt early in life that the boundary of respect should never be breached by the concept of familiarity and i felt some people hadn't learnt that, hadn't acted that way, and hadn't talked as they had understood that principle. It is troubling because I'm not a vocal person that could blatantly speak what i feel right to somebody's face. I would rather swallow them down my stomach than letting them out through my dry throat and experienced those agonizing moments of ...awkwardness. That's how Asian I am.

But, having said that, tomorrow is a new day and ...none of this feeling would have mattered anymore. And guess what, my period would have stopped too.

Probably...

I love the word 'probably', because it gives me chances and chances of making sentences that have multiple claims and so, the privilege of blaming not one but many causes.

-- citra anita

Knowledge..

They say knowledge is power.
I don't think so, now.
It is only a potential power; unless that knowledge is utilized, it shall remain as a dormant seed.

My confession letter

Definition of aigoo aigoo aigoo = aiyoo aiyoo aiyoo (my literal interpretation)

My dearest,

Please remember me in your prayer. I've been smitten and is now sick. Sick of love...for my heart was stolen by the charming soo ji seob. Do google him and you'll soon find out he is the handsome actor in the korean movie Cain and Abel. I watched him on youtube and my eyes, i can't take them off him.

Sistas, please do remember me in ur prayer, that I will grow out of this. For my heart sickens everytime I remember my charming prince knows not of my existence. But if you will, believe, I may well one day meet him and as others bear witness, perhaps I am that rib taken from his body; his fate, his lover, his destiny. And if you will, my dearest sistas, believe, for he is not a normal Korean actor that i will overlook and give not my attention. For he, he is a fighter, that shares story so inspiring that like Rain. He is my fighter, my true love.

Oh sistas, please do remember me in your prayer, that I can forget him. For my soul is in anguish thinking about my love, who never comes. My dear lover from afar.

aigoo aigoo aigoo.....

oh is this what love feels like?

aigoo aigoo aigoo..

Help me to make my mind up sistas, for love has cast its spell on me.... and i can't think..i can barely trust my own feeling.

No my dear sista, our love cast no boundary on mere human words...and that would mean i will pick Korean up if my other flesh and blood shall not understand this english of mine...

aigoo aigoo aigoo...

But sista, forget not that he is a fighter, and he will understand this form of words for our sake....For our love sake...

ooh soo ji seob... sarang he

hahhahahah...he's soo hot la for real :)
sorry for such lovey dovey post but i can't stop giggling while typing this and perhaps, u might too.

God is good..

..all the time, all the time God is good. Sometimes, you know it only when it's time.

It was a bright Saturday morning and i heard birds chirping cheerily.on my bed. I mean i was still on my bed when i heard birds chirping -_- I had set my alarm the previous night to awake me a little bit later in the morning because i literally mugged till it was past midnight. Yes, because today, is my final paper day.

But again, my alarm hadn't rang when i was conscious enough to notice the sound of birds chirping. 0_0. I woke up before it's time to!!! No surprise: my stomach ached.
So i headed to the toilet, and discovered, i had diarrhoea. Puerfecto.

So, i travelled to and flo the toilet within the next few hours. and gosh, my inflating anxiety for exam doesn't help much.

My trip to uni was quite smooth and yet, right before entering the exam hall (it was 5 minutes before my paper started..), i had the urge to 'loose' again. I couldn't take it anymore and i talked as loud as i can (in my head of cos, and whispered inaudible voice within the toilet cubicle), " Daddy God, this has to STOP!! Please..I need it to stop..please." i think i forgot to say, "Thank you."

and yes, yes, it was happy ending :) I didn't had a single diarrhoea after that 'silent' request. During my paper, my stomach was obediently good and healthy. The night felt good and i knew i had bade diarrhoea a very pleasant good bye :). Phew. I was sooooo thankfulll...yay. Daddy God is so awesome. He answered my request.

Thanks to my confidence, the following day, i ended having ice-cream as breakfast with 'Durian' flavor as one of the scoope, followed by pistachio-flavored, dark chocolato and bailey's...hehe and guess wat?.. my diarrhoea popped up again. yaickz. But, im feeling better now. tee-hee.

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." (Mat 7:7)

Silence.

Perhaps You didn't come...to my room today.
Or You were present but chose to be silent,
the entire time.
I don't know why.
For i waited to hear You speak,
but i heard none.

It was mere silence.

But daddy God, i remembered to encourage myself.. in You.
For though my eyes can't see
my heart, believes.
That daddy God, You are the God,
who made the sand a boundary for the sea,
an everlasting barrier it cannot cross.
The waves may roll, but they cannot prevail;
they may roar, but they cannot cross it. (JER 5:22)

n yet, daddy God,
You..You..You
chose to be my biggest Lover.
So i say, i will find You tomorrow,
hear You speak, again.
Definitely.

Daddy God is my almond tree....

Because He watches over me. unceasingly.

Just found out that almond tree is the first tree that blossomed every year (it wakes up early) and as the Bible stated, in Hebrew, the literal meaning of 'wake' is actually to 'watch'.

Hmmm, the Bible never failed to astonish me with its profoundness.



ok ..gotta continue revision for my paper tomolo..so itchy-hand, can't sit still and study. haiz!! shall resume now, seriously! :p

Let's talk about....

COMMITMENT.

It is funny how the world and its inhabitant pursue advancement and growth in whatever aspects they could get their hands on: economy, technology, entertaintment, fashion, education, and yadayadayada..

They wake up every morning, had breakfast, off to work, met clients and settled a project, made profit, advanced the company and then the new cycle began. Or the entertaintment industry that unceasingly injected unconventional music & groove that spun entire globe to validate again and again that 'life without music is empty'. But it is funny that despite our outward advancement, we are drifting behind, digressing inwardly in such a fundamental value that perhaps only most 'old-fashioned' people understood of its intricateness and stayed within the line. Perhaps you are wondering the reason of me writing this.

I had a supper the other day at a restaurant named 'CC' (of coz its not the real name...to protect its identity) with a bunch of frens. Prior to entering, we saw this promotional board outside that states '50% off' on some of its food. We were excited and went in straight away, placed our order and waited for our meal. I ordered a dish (a finger food) that was initially costed like a normal meal (coz i wanted to share it with my frens instead of having a meal on my own) and i thought that since it's 50% off, its probably worth the price.

In the middle of our conversation, a waiter came to notify me that a certain ingredient was 'absent' and whether it was ok to switch to an alternative ingredient. Now let me explain, the main ingredient is the reason behind the EXPENSIVE price it charged and the alternative costed like half of it. I pouted for a while before saying 'yes, it's fine'. Of course it's fine for me!! because i didn't go there for the food, i went there to spend time with my friends. But it is NOT FINE for CC to do that. (forgive me if i start to sound like i'm contradicting myself). My friends' meals arrived in half the normal portion. Everybody was commenting that it was rather 'normal' since what can you expect from a 50% off meal. They were so forgiving.

Never mind what i feel.

I just thought i didn't agree to dine on a '50% off' meal that was attached to a '50%-off' ingredient deal. Just because there's a propensity of making a loss, doesn't give you the right to break that commitment of giving your customer a full value worth of something that now came with discounted price. Screw that marketing strategy (maybe it worked, but i don't buy that). My apology, but i don't take this thing lightly. Because if you noticed, some of the biggest collapses in human's history lay in the failure of men to remain committed to their words. You had the choice to make or not make that commitment in the first place, hadn't you?

Perhaps CC should focus on giving customers values..but it's story for another day.

and hey, anyway i've forgiven u CC...we all make mistakes..and i will still go to dine there next time :)
and maybe im not in the place to write this..but hey, we can alweiz learn from each other rite??

pink bicycle

I saw a pink bicycle today
parked just outside my window
the kind that was cheaply painted
but left me captivated

It stood beneath a tall tree
that hosts green and yellow leaves
surrounded with long grasses

yet, it stood out
as though saying hi to me
from afar

i wonder
am just wondering
who the owner is
..can i borrow ur pink bike?

The word...

"For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts."

Isa 55:8-9

excitement..

It felt like a dream..a brief moment of exhiliration; to be immersed in the world where my heart beats and my pulse races. i like it.

Man..

"Man is certainly an animal that, when he lives at all, lives for ideals. Something must be found to occupy his imagination, to raise pleasure and pain into love and hatred, and change the prosaic alternative between comfort and discomfort into the tragic one between happiness and sorrow." ~~~Santayana

Girlfriends

I wish we knew each other better
Spend more time quite naturally.. as friends.
Then we can talk about a lot of stuffs;
you name it: nail polish, hair mask, eyeshadow and all girlie stuffs
or talk with me about arts and the beauty of writings
that of Jane austen and Emily bronte or even Kiran Desai
or ponder upon Socrates' and Plato's debates
to increase our wisdom.. to match any professors, rofl
or whisk me in seasons of Heroes
and bask in Dr. House's sarcasm overnight
or if you like let's cook pasta together
and seriously i can sauteed a salmon to perfection
near perfection... actually
and you can even share your obsession
on tango or contemporary dance
and i'll accompany you to strum that guitar
when you have a song u are dying to sing
and i'll teman u to charles & keith too
to relinquish the urge to get that pumps
and we can exchange the shawls on different day
so we can mix and match the colors
and yes, count me in as ur swimming buddy
or if u insist, we can do yoga together one day.
You can even introduce your other frens to me
those that are different in color or culture
i promise i'll be nice to them.
coz i do cherish our relationships
our frenships.
i really do,
perhaps i didn't talk as much
just wish i knew u better
and u knew me the same.

My interpretation of a story...(version 1)

“You can do it, Tim.” He whispered.

Half crawling, panting, he then opted to lie still on the grass-covered pavement and stared almost mechanically at the night sky; sprinkled with white stars. Countless stars. Like his deeds, which was not quite as white.

2 years ago

Tim was sprawled on his king-sized bed, legs spread wide and arms folded behind his head as he looked at nothing and smiled. He was reminiscing, proud of his afternoon accomplishment that sealed him a deal with one of the brightest and most notorious business-men in town. A great deal it was. It took him months and finally, his dad agreed to give him part of his share and within seconds, Tim was a rich man, with fortune of his own, his very own.

“I’ve got a plan. Just give me the money, dad.” Tim said.

“Shut up, Tim. This isn’t charity. You want the money, you gotta earn it!” Danny, the brother, said. “Besides, don’t joke us around with your ‘plan’. Your word is as good as your history. We know you never cared for the family fortune.”

Their father said nothing.

“Remember mom, dad. You promised, you promised her.” Tim added, and in the next second he knew he just uttered the golden word. The sudden tears confirmed it and old Mr. Cunningham took and signed the paper almost immediately.

“Don’t come back, son. You go your way. You’ve made your choice.”

Tim wouldn’t slow down now that the first plan was ticked. He had informed Sarah who agreed instantly to his proposal of going away to another town with him. We’ll have fun, he promised.


He hadn’t eaten for days and was thankful for a bottle of water given by an old beggar that passed him by. He insisted to walk alone along the long silent road refusing further assistance offered. Now, lying on his back, he started counting the stars when he heard his stomach growled, again.

A year ago

Sarah didn’t answer his phone. She had left a month ago with no news; except for the amounting credit card bills left on their dusty dining table. The last time he saw her was the night he returned home and told her he lost at the casino. A hundred grand. But he’ll gain it back he promised. She believed in him, she said.


He pushed himself up, took a few steps before he toppled down. He crawled slowly, the hard cement brushing abrasively on his dirty palms. He could hear only the sound of his breath and the night wind in the silence. His bare feet were cold and his hands rubbed them aggressively to generate some heat, reminding him of the leather shoes he sold for a meal few days ago. It was a cold night.

6 months ago.

“I’m sorry Mr. Tim. But you have to evacuate the place soon. We have given you three months grace and you still could not pay the rent. We have a new tenant now.” The message on the notice letter was printed in bold.

Tim had no more money in his account and all he had was thinning cash in his pocket. Luck was not in his side, he grumbled. The past visits to casino were unfruitful and he always left poorer than when he came. But he’ll visit again the next day. He wanted to borrow some money, but he had no friends. No more friends.


He could sense water running down his nostrils and slowly wiped it with his thin shirt. His eyes were watery and slowly, he sobbed. Even then, he could smell the stench of his body, filthy and unshaven. He pushed himself again, driven by the thread-like hope of at least knowing where to go now.

1 month ago.

“Take it Tim. Don’t come back. The boss would kick you.” Andy, his colleague in McDonald, said. “Just take this few bucks and leave.”

Tim thought to himself, “I’ve got nowhere to go now...could I …. dad could as well hire me as his driver or servant and I’ll still be better off than this ….”


Mr. Cunningham was seated in his study room with a cup of coffee and a piece of apple custard, a routine he had for more than 40 years. He was reading that a new stock acquisition was done by a rival company when a knock on his study room was heard. Nobody knocked his study room in the morning.

“What is it?” He asked.

Mr. Peroni strode in with a nervous smile. “I brought you extra sugar for your coffee, sir.”

“I never need any, Mr. Peroni. And you should be fully aware of it by now.” His eyebrow was half raised.

“It’s just sir, there was a man outside the house. He… was not very conscious, sir and quite unshaven and not very clean……”

“So, shall I advise you to shower him, then?....Gimme a break Peroni. You could settle this beggar without my advice couldn’t you…give him some pennies and send him off as usual. Goodness Peroni, are you getting older now that I find you not quite as sharp?”

“It’s just ..sir. If my eyes hadn’t fail me, he looked like Tim, sir.” Mr. Peroni managed.

Mr. Cunningham stood from his seat, ran to the door and saw the man lying down on the front porch of his garden. He knew instantly that was Tim from the same mole on his forehead since he first saw him as a baby. He hugged him and kissed his son, his beloved son. Tim opened his eyes,” I’m sorry dad. I’m dirty and unworthy. I’ll work as your servant from now on.”

Mr. Cunningham instead shouted for his servants to prepare the best suit for Tim and washed him clean. He called for a feast and prepared the most expensive beef to be served for his son.

Danny then strolled in to find out of the commotion. Upset, he argued.

“He, had just squandered your fortune, dad and now, he came back with nothing and expects to get every thing again? Dad, this isn’t how the game is played. You taught me to be responsible for my life. And now, what’s this? He didn’t work a penny for you and now, you’re giving him back everything?”

“Son, you are always with me, whatever I have is yours. But your brother, he was once gone and now is back. I don’t care what he’d done, but he is still your brother…my son. ”



Yep...It's the prodigal son.

Reading..

...And tonight, at least for the night, i have my green cup filled with warm chrysanthemum tea matched tenderly with slow jazzy Ituana; both teamed to merely soothe my soring throat, and they made me feel good.

First love

It is like breath of fresh air wafting through the atmosphere that evokes a certain sense of excitement, of joy and assurance. From where, pieces of past miseries faded into misty air, dissolved into ethereal cloud. As though scales on my eyes dropped by themselves and then I see You once more..... and I know, I have fallen in love again.

three kidz

There were 3 of them. Three little kids in tropical weather school uniform. None carried more than a backpack sized almost 3/4 of their own heights. Their skin used to be lighter in shades, determined by their race. But the sun, they befriend it. Everyday.

"RRRiiiiinngggg"

She was chubbier than her friends and had bigger eyes, short hair with fringe pinned to the side. They called her 'Dut'. It wasn't her real name but she couldn't care less.

" Dut, you didn't forget did you?" Shito asked with an obvious quiver in his voice, started to feel alarmed.

He was the skinniest among the three, the listener among the three and a thinker in the class. Shito first knew Dut when they entered the same class and happened to seat next to each other. He initially disliked her as much as he disliked cats or dogs. Dut would talk non-stoppingly to him everyday, giggled and smiled at every interval of hours. There were only two days when Shito did not hear Dut's laughter, once when Dut was absent and the other was when Dut was so nervous for the singing competition she was participating after class.

"Nope, i did not." Dut's frowned face suddenly evolved into a grinning mask as her hand climbed out from the rummaged backpack. She held a silver chain with 3 keys dangling beneath it.

"Let's go then," Shito urged followed by a loud relief and a screeching sound of 'whoaaa' and 'yyeaaahh'. He regularly begged Danny, the fastest runner to slow down as he stopped and panted for air. Danny was a new student. He looked different, dressed different despite the uniform (he always managed to add other accessories like belt or handkerchief that none of the other boys in school did) but they seemed to have known each other for centuries. They talked in the same frequency and catch the same joke that none of their classmates did.


----to be continued----

not because i can't resist but..u see..

I remembered that day when i stood still in the middle alley of a food junction in a supermart one day. I was eight or younger, innocently vivacious, indulgent yet an avid self-repressionist. I was simply looking around, again in my dazzle-me-world, replaying spice girls song over 10 times in my head and rendering that i was in a movie-clip or something.

It seemed like the song was suddenly 'hijacked' and a loud drum roll took over that instant when i saw this woman standing before me. She was a young lady draped in a long loose blue dress that reached down to both of her knees and fell smoothly along the contour of her balloon-shaped tummy. But obviously that wasn't the reason of my looking at her for a few long minutes. She was indeed the most normal-looking pregnant lady i assured you. My observing her came out as a by-product of what firstly caught my attention. Her hands was slackenly holding unto the metal handle pushing a trolley fully-loaded with snacks of different flavours and brands. I repeat..snacks....snacks..a trolley full of snacks.

I was convinved that i had long known this emotion called envy when i was younger. Played with it several times, gotten hurt and sometimes i regretted for letting it consumed me. But that instant, a full manifestation of it caught me off-guard. For the first time, i sensed the definition of envy was revealed at a whole-new level to my dear soul and i realized how jealous i was for...her snacks. I understood that envy wasn't necessary when one was in the right place at the right time. Exactly. I was in a supermart where snacks were abundant in supply and all i needed to do was to scoop some of these supplies from the long-stretched snack-shelves into my precious 'trolley' . As simple as that. But, it seemed that 'right place and right time' fell short in my scenario. I didn't have the right amount of money to buy neither the right size of pocket to hide them even if i could afford them. My parents forbid junks!!!

So i went home and thought of a plan and named it the 'snack-amassing program'. The goal was to collect as many snacks as i could (like savings) and consumed them later. The deal was, i couldn't buy them with my own money. Next, I needed to find a space where i could place my collection. To my luck,I found a pink bag that i used to carry to school. It was clean and smelled nice which i have no clue why. The last time i gave up bringing it to school was because it was no longer appealing to me and it had turned blackish.(somebody must have washed them...). Anyway, I thought it was perfect as my snack-bank. I placed it inside the drawer of my study table and called it my pink-snack-bank. (pink-sb)

Then, plenty of birthday invitations came and i knew they would give snacks as souveniers. I never missed a single party that season and my collection grew rapidly. Sometimes when grandma was nice, she would buy each of us a packet. My sisters and cousins would gulped them down within minutes. While i, well, i would keep them straight into my pink-sb.

My pink-sb soon bulged and it was getting harder to zip. It contained variety of brands and flavours now. But one day, grandma found my pink-sb…and its snacks account. She was shocked at the amount of snacks i had collected. She looked and inspected them for a while before saying, “ girl, the expiry date is next week..and some..today.”

Instantly i opened five packets, munched the contents from different packets simultaneously; mixing the already saturated flavour altogether. To be honest, they tasted un-freshed and weird even as my facial expression was putting its best facade of how scrumptious those snacks still were as i handed some of them to my snickering sisters. I was remotely embarassed. Felt pretty ridiculous at how fragile and un-clever the whole program was about.

That night i made a point to never repeat this naive act in my entire life. and since then, my snacks only last one day in its shelf.

my stationery's love-hate affair

My 'friends' they came from afar,
I chose them to be my very own companions.
They, I kept well that i could always reach them in times of need.
I heart them.
For their presence never failed to light up my mundane days at work.

Then, they increased in number.
Perhaps it was my fault for I desired more of them.
It got heavier then to make them stay with me all the time
and i started feeling over which was better.

Sometimes at work, they tried to outshine each other
in the urge of winning my very preference.
And then i realized i loved one more than the others.
I pride in it more than the rest.
My favourite one I held closest.

And then one day, i lost it...
I never saw it again..ever.
Did the rest conspire, i knew not.
But yes, i lost my purple pen and im still not over it...
sigh...