Getting away

Have finished packing for my trip so say hello to mounds of happy colourful fabric that come with me to Koh Samui to laze on the beach, a much needed lull in our evil city life as we watch the lady boys strut by.

Beach clothing is thin, light, airy and it makes packing so much less of a pain because I sit on my bag of stuff, squeeze the life breath out of them then rejoice that they have compressed themselves into inconsequential packets that fit into equally inconsequential spaces and I travel light but the brothers don’t agree and it resulted in a minor tiff that went like this:

The Brother: Why do you have so much stuff?
ME: I am a girl. Do you have to bring conditioner and lotion and bras? They take up space okayy?
TB: retorts* Do you have to bring a tripod and camera and SD cards? They take up space okayy?
ME: I’m sure the SD card takes up THAT MUCH SPACE.

And here are some poseur photos with our new raybans and I shall be off in a moment!




So friends, I shall be uncontactable for a week now see you on FRIDAY!

SYTDW

I like this shadow because of how it makes my legs look deceptively endless almost as though I am on stilts like those gorgeous pseudo Egyptian men we gawked at in USS who were actually really buff Malays, or eyeliner-ed Chinese dudes fresh from the tanning salon. By the way, we think egyptians are all well toned so they look good even in their ridiculous hat and phallic waistband but i'd actually imagine only the hard labour slaves would rock that outfit what about the flabby princes where then will they hide those rolls?

You midgets, i get the real fresh air here!

And I'm not in the picture because I wasn't really in the mood to queue for that brief moment of proximity where i can only hug his fake wooden legs so not quite worth the wait.

Come Thou Fount

When you cup your hand in theirs and blow on them to make a wish, He hears. Upper Seletar is beautiful in the mornings.

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.

O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

In the evenings

once again, you paint me an oil painting in the canvas of your sky, even beneath the heavens, framed and hidden in the stairwell where i search for you. You are beauty in every quiet corner. I sometimes wonder why i look to the sky so much, and how often i want to see and hold you because the tangible is so much easier to keep my eyes upon. But you are air and wind and a voice in my heart so loud, strong, comforting but at times so far away.

But you give me a glimpse, and a guide and then i trust.

BB

I wonder why these weigh so heavily on my heart. Just two, but one too many, spelling imperfection and unattained expectations and mediocrity but show me that I am more. And now the next step forward because there is none backwards. Should I NUS in predictable and guarded fashion or maybe it is a venture into the unknown that seduces with Bristol’s offer to the UK and beyond? But can I really leave all these behind? It will be four years: a foreign land with foreign faces, the cold with its wintry delights while my heart cleaves to everyone that matters in this little isle back home. It is time for guidance my friends.