Moved On

Ha. I misled you with that post title, didn't I.

This is actually just a notice, to notify you, that I have moved from Blogger to Wordpress.

This blog will forever live on as a cringing memory of my emo days. My new one will be an upgraded version of this, I assure you. More emo, maybe. Who knows. Click the link below to find out:

https://vanessachengxq.wordpress.com/

Not Perfect. At All.

I have this horrible habit of wanting to write something and then failing to put them into comprehensible sentences, so I end up scrapping the whole thing altogether. So I think I do better with short posts. For example:

I am not perfect. I just wanna put it out there, just in case there is too high of an expectation from you towards me. Because a higher expectation leads to greater disappointment. And as much as I want to be more like Christ, I am NOT Christ. Therefore I make mistakes. And "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do".

Because everything that is good and perfect comes from God, who does not change. Unlike me.

The point of this post is.... please forgive me when I make mistakes.

This post is likely to be written to myself, as I now see that I can sometimes be unnecessarily harsh on myself and that makes me unable to do the things I should do.

Well, good talk.

Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness

There is a freedom that comes with not thinking about yourself. To be able to focus on something bigger than you or your thoughts. To leave behind our selfish desires and to step outside of our little circle of self-centered thoughts. Just everything but yourself. Not your worries, nor your problems. Not your successes, nor your failures. Not your strengths, nor your weaknesses. Not your frustrations, your fears, your doubts, your expectations, your disappointments, your feelings, your desires, nor your insecurities. 

Then, there would be so much more space for God. His love, His joy, His hope, and His goodness. You'd be much more aware of the needs of others, and how to help them without even thinking about getting a favour in return from them, or how it might cost you. Because all that is yours isn't even yours in the first place, after all. 

Escaping Reality

They say to feel time, write. And therefore here I am. It's already a new year before I could even post something on the last day of 2015...because I was in a cinema when it switched from 2015 to 2016 in a second. Lol.

I'm supposed to be back at my responsibilities, but I've been so caught up with life that I hadn't have time to reflect and just see how God have been faithful throughout.

Before I get to that, I just wanna take this time to rant (yes you may leave now) about how January in the year is almost equivalent to the Monday in the week. Which makes December similar to Sunday, and all the months in between, the days in between a week. All the events and holidays fall on December, so the last few months of the year were spent counting down to the most anticipated Christmas, bringing up the excitement as you're getting closer and generally leaving you with a warm fuzzy feeling.......and then BAM it's January. All the Christmas parties are over, and you're left feeling lethargic but forced to go back to your work/study routine while having withdrawal symptoms, e.g. staying at home whenever you can and binge on the ice creams you've bought from Baskin Robbins during the 31st promotion.

Yes, I'm having January blues. And it's probably why I haven't gotten around to reflect on the year 2015. Or even get any job done around here. Okay fine I'm posting in this blog to escape time, not particularly to feel it. But I will get around to post something about 2015 because I have much to be grateful for. Just maybe...not that soon. *crawls back into bed*

I Almost Do.

Goodbye, Again.

"There's such a difference between us, and a million miles..."

Why do we have to do this all over again...?

I Guess...

"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

- Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

Embarrassing incident #129923

When you did something stupid and embarrassing, all you can do, sometimes, is just to shout your lungs out saying...

WHY AM I SO STUPID?!

Then you'll feel a bit better. Or not. 

Hi there. Yes, I was here the whole time.

I may or may not have mentioned that I don't express myself really well. The best of my intentions have often ended up horribly wrong in words, and I have slowly turned into a very quiet person without me realizing it until now.

This realization first hits me when I noticed that people had to tell me the same thing twice just so I get it, because I didn't respond much (my brain may go off circuit sometimes but I assure you I understand human language). People have also told me I'm quiet, but I never gave it much thought, as I perceive myself as a very talkative person when I'm around people I'm comfortable with, and often spurt out words I regret saying. This realization was confirmed with my mum telling me "You're actually quite a sensible and observant person, you just don't express yourself out loud. You're too quiet."

Having an acquaintance tell me that is one thing, but having my own mum (which is the closest person to me on earth) tell me that is entirely another thing. It's that same feeling I get when the nurse told me that my blood type is actually A instead of O, which was what I have believed for 17 years. (Okay I may be a very bad perceiver of self.)

So, in order to avoid expressing myself the wrong way, I have subconsciously chosen to completely not express myself. My instinct to run away have, again, took over. I should have known.

Now comes the purpose of this post. It has come to the point where I have to post this to prove a point to myself (because really, who reads this). That I actually have a personality (I actually questioned myself about this but hey a less colourful personality is still considered a personality #positivethinking) underneath the quietness and I'm not mentally disabled (not that there's anything wrong with that, I just don't want to have people worrying for no reason). This post, is a first step towards expressing myself - it's actually quite a step, considering that my draft posts are almost the same amount as my published posts. Yes, I write things and keep it to myself, but don't all people do that? No?

Sigh. I've always thought that 'silence is golden', because "even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent" (Proverbs 17:28), and "whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble" (Proverbs 21:23). But apparently it doesn't apply to every situation and there are times where I have made others frustrated over my silence. If somehow you (yes, you) have been frustrated because of my inexpressiveness, I wish to apologize to you and ask that you be patient with me while I try to find the appropriate words to respond to you.

I also have instances in which I regretted not speaking up for what I believed. I guess there's always a time and place for words, and I need to learn to discern when I should speak up and when not to. Tips, anyone?

P/S: I wanted to delete this post several times now, but I promised myself not to (see kids, don't make promises you can't keep), so I just wanna add a note to self that I don't want to speak up more just for the sake of expressing myself - that would be rather pointless and valueless. So this whole post was just a rant, really. Sorry for wasting your time, kthxbai.

Song of My Life

I secretly like sad movies. Like, not just sappy romance, but those that tug at your heartstrings, and touch on topics like the inevitable end of this life and that every waking moment, every person that you crossed paths with, is a gift.

As for reasons why I like those kind of movies, is probably because they relate to the existential crisis that hits me every now and then. My favourites among this genre are "About Time", "Never Let Me Go", and "The Fault in Our Stars". Even "Up" made me feel a little melancholy. Yes, I'm aware of how they are borderline depressing, but I find that they also provoke thoughts about the meaning of life and love (note: not romance). 

On a side-note, I've always thought that I'd be a clinically depressed person if I wasn't Christian. The hope that God gives not only makes Him worth dying for, but also to live for.

And with that I present to you the tune that is so sad it'll make you cry your eyes out:

These Memories

I know I will not be able to fully let go, at least not now. There are times that I will fall back, but I pray to God so that He will not let me make the same mistakes of hurting you again.

I have went through this countless times, but when it finally came down to it, I was not prepared at all. Every time I told myself I have let go, but it was like a letting a kite go while still holding on tightly to its strings, hoping that it will not fly too far away.

This time, I'm saying goodbye to the kite. It was not mine to hold in the first place. As tempting as it is to think that it will come back, I can't entertain the thought of it. I'm trusting God on this. Even if my hands remain empty after I've opened them. Even if the healing doesn't come. 

God has graciously given me memories that I can keep for awhile before it fades. But for now, ...

...these memories, I will hold them dear.

Where is the good in goodbyes...?

I'm not particularly good with goodbyes, and I wonder if anyone ever is. I didn't have many loved ones whom I had to part with, but when I do, I slip into this trance of denial (or ignorance) in my everyday life - as though things were still the same. Of course, only up till a point when I subconsciously want to talk to this particular person but I can't, that I really realize that things will never be the same again. When that happens I sleep it off. And the cycle continues the next day.

I know that it may not seem like the healthiest way to deal with things, but it's how I am able to move on and actually get some work done.

Speaking of work done, I have started my internship since March and it has been pretty exciting the first few weeks with all the travelling but the past few...hasn't been all that great. I was supposed to be out-stationed this week after 4 weeks of being in the office, but I was last minute (on a Saturday) swapped to be in the office instead. I was actually looking forward to the assignment in somewhere other than Malacca, and you can say I was feeling pretty disappointed with the new arrangement, and also by the fact that my fellow interns have been out-stationed almost every week, just because their names were the top of the list of interns. But I haven't been doing nothing though, it's just that they need a lot of help in the office as well...with administrative work.

I'm not really complaining. I guess it's better than having no work. All my life has been trials of having to stay put, and being crushed of all hopes that I can finally see the world outside of this place called Malacca. So this should be something I'm used to dealing with.

Please pray for me.

Moving On

I do realized that I have not posted any throwback pictures and it's almost the end of February. This whole post may sound like a bunch of excuses to not getting things done. Perhaps it is, in fact. Okay it is. I may come to realize the whole moral of the story to this, but for now I would just like to rant.

I realized that growing up and being an adult, other than having more 'freedom', is a lot like falling down from a bicycle and trying to get back up when you were a kid. Except it has the probability of happening like 10 times a day and you're forced to wipe your tears and get back up every single time, eventhough all you want to do is just cry and stop cycling once and for all. Because life is a race, and in order to finish it we'll have to keep going. Even when people fail to help you up; even when you fail yourself; even when people deliberately try to knock you down; even when your loved ones leave you.

You have to move on. You have to get up from your bed. You have to go back to your 9 to 5 (sometimes 7) job. You have to face people. You have to keep going despite the fresh open wounds and scars, even when you feel like you can't go any further.

I guess that's why it's important to have an ever-flowing strength that doesn't come from yourself. Something eternal to hold on to. Something that never fails.

Touched.

It's that feeling. The feeling of having your needs unexpectedly met. Having your life unexpectedly touched. I haven't had that in a while. I haven't done that to others in a while.

I want to write down just in case I forget it again.

The ones that are most impactful are those where the giver doesn't even realize the degree of the impact they have left behind. It is a genuine response to someone's needs, usually an unspoken one. It takes a fleeting moment of selfless-ness and freedom from self-consciousness, where all you can think about is how to best help someone in need, without even taking the time to consider what it might cost you, or how it would benefit you - you wouldn't even think about you. It would usually seem effortless to you, like responding in kindness to someone who is in a bad mood, not knowing that he/she have had a really bad day, and that kind response was all it took to make it feel better. 

All these thoughts came from a warm hug from my mother and an offer from my sister to teach me, while I was panicking in the midst of studying. They might not even remember what they have done... but I do.

A New Year Again

Time passed so fast I only realized it's the last day of the year, today. Stay tuned for throwback pictures, probably a few days later.

By a few days I actually mean a few months or probably years. #procrastination

Blank

She stares at the blank screen,
A few times, she has been,
Wanting to write something,
Something that has provoked a thought, something worth sharing.
But as often as she craves for ice cream in a day,
Distraction came and pushed the thought away.
Until a day like today - when long forgotten was the thought.
Her eyes shifted to the messy pile of things next to her laptop.
And off her mind goes to the amount of work she needed to get done.
She sighs, and thinks, what a bore she has become.
As always, conversations linger in her head,
And she thought of the responses she should have made.
Like the other day, when someone asked,
"Are you okay?", she answered, "Yeah, I'm just tired."
Her face betrays, her dark circles couldn't hide,
The emotional roller-coaster that was her ride.
Then there was this friend,
Who, a year ago, cheered her without end.
She was grateful, nonetheless,
But her sentiments she suppressed.
Her only medium was this place,
She hopes the friendship wasn't just a phase.
So if he happens to stumble upon this,
She wishes him all the joy and bliss...

And as the clock strikes 3 a.m. without her notice,
Her first poem was unintentionally and messily created.

Confession.

I'm sorry I can't give you my best right now. 'Cause inside I'm dying.

In Loving Memory...

Ah Poh would have turned 94-years-old today. 25th of the 5th month in the Chinese Lunar Calendar, year 1922, she was born. 14th June 2014, 11.20a.m., she passed away. I could vividly remember sitting on the couch at home while watching football highlights, tired from the run that I participated with Amanda. Then came the call from my dad from the hospital to my mum.

'Ah Poh is in critical condition.' It feels like deja vu. The last time similar words were uttered, my grandfather passed away without me seeing him for the last time. This could not be happening, I thought. Eventhough Ah Kong's passing was devastating to the 14-year-old me, I had the comfort of knowing Ah Kong accepted Christ and would be in heaven with Him. Ah Poh had not. I rushed to the hospital with mum; while Angela, Amanda, and Zhou who were on their way to Amanda's school, detoured to the hospital as well. We reached at the same time, and walked as fast as we could without saying anything much. Thoughts flood my mind and I tried to block them out while praying to God not to take my grandma away from me just yet. When we reached her ward, I see some of my relatives who were already there.

They were not by Ah Poh's bed; instead they were all standing limply at the walls at the entrance of the ward, eyes downcast and red. I walked pass them slowly, not wanting to believe it. Dad urged us forward to Ah Poh's bed. 'Go kiss Ah Poh.' were words enough to make me rush forward. Ah Poh was off drip, eyes open and still. I trembled and managed to call out, 'Ah Poh'. She did not respond. I kissed her cheek and hoped for the tiniest respond, a hint of the smile that she always gives me when I smile at her. When it did not come, all of me broke down and I could not look anymore. I find myself in the arms of my aunt, who tried consoling me and told us 'You have all done your best'. But I was inconsolable.

It was so much harder to take it this time. You would think it gets easier, but it never does. Ah Poh have been with me for the whole 21 years of my life. She was there when I first started kindergarten, holding my little hand as we walk side by side to and fro my kindergarten. I remember her being so proud when I got 2nd placing in a report card that she collected for me, and gets prouder with every single one of my achievement from then on. She was there waiting for me to come back from school for lunch which she prepared. She was there when the rebellious teenage me argued with my parents, and she would be on my side. She was there everytime I leave or come back home, asking me where am I going, when I would be back, have I eaten or not. And that's where I took her for granted. Because she was always there, even when she was sick, I never once given energy to the thought of what I would do without her. I have failed to realize, when Ah Poh had slowly stopped exercising early in the morning, thinking she was just tired. I failed to realize, when Ah Poh had slowly stopped getting the remote control of the TV by herself and switch it to some Taiwanese drama that she enjoys watching over and over again eventhough she does not understand them. I failed to realize, when Ah Poh had stopped pulling the couch away from the TV because I was sitting too close to it. I failed to realize, when Ah Poh had stopped telling me Hainanese poems or requested me to put on the tape of her favourite Hainanese theatre play.

Because despite all these, she was still always sitting at her chair right in front of her door, where I would see her when I come back home, asking me about my day. She would still make the Chinese Rice Crispies that she makes every Chinese New Year, and make kaya, and cook for special occasions. She would still give me an angpao every Chinese New Year and every birthdays of mine. She would still comment at my dark-coloured/ less than feminine clothes everytime I walk out the door. She would still show me old pictures of our family. She would still check up on me when I fall sick at home. She would still smile at me when I smile at her, even when she's sick.

The thought of all these that would be missing from my life from now onwards, is unbearable. That she would not be there for my graduation, nor my wedding. That she would not be sitting at her chair, waiting for us to come home anymore.

Ah Poh has taught me so much. She has always been strong-willed yet kind and generous. The selfless love she showered upon our family was one of a kind. I thank God for the privilege of having Ah Poh through the 21 years of my life. Despite the many regrets I have, I can only surrender her to God and pray that her memory will live on within me. I will miss her dearly. Happy birthday, Ah Poh. <3

Dying to Self

"The heart of the matter, then, is to understand what it means to die to self; When you're forgiven, or neglected, or purposely set at naught, and you sting and hurt with the insult of the oversight, but your heart is happy, being counted worthy to suffer for Christ - that is dying to self. When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes are crossed, your advice disregarded, your opinions ridiculed, and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart, or even defend yourself, but take it all in patient loving silence - that is dying to self.

When you lovingly and patiently bear any disorder, any irregularity, or any annoyance, when you can stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagance, spiritual insensibility, and endure it as Jesus endured it - that is dying to self. When you are content with any circumstance, any food, any offering, any clothing, any climate, any society, any solicitude, any interruption by the will of God - that is dying to self.

When you never care to refer to yourself in conversation, or record your own good works, or itch after any commendation from others, when you can truly love to be unknown - that is dying to self. When you can see your brother prosper and have his needs met and can honestly rejoice with him in spirit and feel no envy nor question God, while your own needs are far greater and your circumstances more desperate - that is dying to self.

When you can receive correction and reproof from one of less stature than yourself, and can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly, finding no rebellion or resentment rising up within your heart - that is dying to self." - John MacArthur

The Height of My Blurness

On a fine Thursday morning, I went to class at 10am thinking my exam is at 8pm later, just to find out from my classmates that it's actually at 12pm, which is less than two hours from the moment I found out. That one second of realization was a train of thoughts: "Oh. Must not panic. Why do I need to panic anyway? I studied yesterday. Oh THANK GOD I covered everything yesterday. Oh goodness why am I so blur. And I told almost everyone who cared to know that my exam is at 8pm -_-" 

This is not something I'm proud of. Although I'm not the most alert person in the room, this never happened to me. (Another not-so-proud achievement unlocked?) Trust me, I don't know how this sort of thing happens. Maybe that's the root of the problem. I need to be more aware. 

Anyway, things could've been alot worse though. I could've: a) not finish covering all the chapters, b) find out much later and miss my exam altogether. 

Thanking God for always covering for my near-ignorant self.