All grown up and nowhere to go

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I told someone he had a heart of steel
Tough as steel, hard as steel
Good in partings, better in pain
Great when it comes to
A slap in the face.

Moments come when they force you to grow
Apart, at length, farewell said in stares
A link that broke
Between respect and blood.
I wonder how

Words were said but they bounced off
the heart of steel which was hard as steel
And though the pain stings, it was nothing
Sticks and stones could break my bones but
The link broke, so there was none.

Goodbye Papa, so sad to leave
Though not really, not really, because
Though I told him he had a heart of steel,
It was me after all,

Who had the heart of steel,
Tough as steel, hard as steel.
So hard to feel anything but a cold blank air
Where there once were __ but no more.


Can it be? Time flies disgustingly fast. Needless to say the past 1.5 months have been the best holiday I’ve ever had. Even with the short bursts of quarrels with the cbkia. What’s so different about London now is that it feels as if I’m home, rather than just a visiting tourist for 2-3 days at a shot.

As I’m typing this I’m letting out a long deep sigh. Finally the journey is over. Back to the ‘real world’, where my challenges lie vast, tougher than ironing shirts or planning the next day’s itinerary. The only thing keeping me going is the prospect of online shopping at! Whee! I love online shopping ūüôā

Still, I wish I could extend my stay. But time and funds are running short. I was telling cbkia earlier, if only he’d brought me to Nobu sooner, I’d discover its delicious dishes before I spent all my money on shopping. We would’ve been able to go a few more times! Alas, it was not to be. I’m determined to eat there again though. Next Easter? Let’s see.

Nobu’s #1 signature dish: black cod with miso. Amazingly tasty.

Sashimi salad with matsuhisa dressing – tangy and fresh.

So I was daydreaming, right, and I happened to recall a story from the old days I spent at a Catholic school back in Indo. I’m not very religious, but I think this story is really cute.

Once upon a time, there lived a pious man. He was so pious he prays every hour, and he¬†was of course very confident of his close connection with God. He lived a pure life, and can’t leave home without his gold-rimmed Bible. This is one man who knows fo’ shure he was going to heaven.

One day, a huge earthquake shook the town he lived in. Followed by a typhoon, and then a flood. As the water level rose inch by inch (or centimetre by centimetre, whatever rocks yer socks), he knew that he had to start praying so that God will save him in time(obviously he will be saved… after all he’s pious). Because the water level was so high, he had to sit cross-legged on top of the fridge to pray. Just when he¬†was getting into it, however, someone knocked his door down and interrupted him. It was his friend (let’s call him James).

James: Eh, what are you doing??? You know there is a flood and we have to escape?
Pious Man: Don’t disturb me, I’m praying!
James: You can pray later! Come on out, we can still swim out of the flood with my trusted floats.
Pious Man: It’s okay, you go ahead. God will save me.

James was pissed that Pious Man was too religious to swim out, so with the float around him he swam out like a boy in a kiddie pool.

An hour later, the flood was so high that it filled Pious Man’s house and it burst apart. Pious Man now floated on top of his fridge, still praying in the open waters. When he was getting into it, yet somebody else interrupted him! Let’s call her Mon.

Mon: Eh, what are you doing??? You know there is a flood and we have to escape?
Pious Man: Don’t disturb me, I’m praying!
Mon: You can pray later! Come jump into my pink rowboat ergonomically shaped like an overturned dolphin!
Pious Man: It’s okay, I’m waiting for God. You go ahead.

Mon was pissed that Pious Man would rather be picked up by God than her, so she rowed away, relaxing in her ergonomic rowboat.

Three hours later, the flood was getting REALLY bad. It had sunk the whole town and the fridge was too heavy to float so Pious Man had to pray while hanging on to a plank of wood. Sometimes he will sink a little and make a gurgling sound but that didn’t deter him from praying. But just as he was getting into it,¬†YET somebody else interrupted him. Now, if he weren’t so pious, he’d have been PISSED OFF! This time it was extremely noisy because it was a chopper with a rescue dude in it.

Rescue dude: Dude! What are you doing? You know there’s a flood and you have to escape it?
Pious Man: Don’t disturb me, I’m praying!
Rescue dude: Dude! You can pray later. Catch this synthetic rope that is so strong it can lift up a crane with an elephant stuck in it, I’m throwing it down NOW!
Pious Man: It’s okay, you can use it to rescue others, I’m just gonna wait for God.

Rescue dude was pissed that he couldn’t test the strength of his rope so the helicopter flew away looking for elephants stuck in cranes.

Well, pious man was getting pretty darned scared. He sensed that he was dying, but maybe God was testing him and would only come at the last minute. So he waited. And then, out of nowhere…

A surge of water enveloped him and he drowned and died.

Pious man found himself standing in front of the gates to heaven, an angelic figure in front of him.

Angelic¬†figure:¬†Congrats my child, you’re in heaven!¬†
Pious Man: Am I… dead?
Angelic figure: I did mention ‘heaven’, didn’t I?
Pious Man: My goodness! What is going on here! I’ve been devoted to God my whole life, and now I’ve lost my trust in him! He doesn’t value my life at all!
Angelic figure: Luckily we don’t have a retrenchment policy, so I can’t kick you out of heaven.
Pious Man: This sucks! I’m supposed to be rescued by God! But he didn’t come to me! He refused to save me! Did he do this on purpose???
Angelic figure: What are you talking about? He did.
Pious Man: Huh?? When??? All the while I only interacted with stupid people who didn’t want to leave me alone. My friend with the float, the chick with the ergonomic rowboat, the hippie rescue dude…
Angelic figure: But God sent them to rescue you.
Pious Man: What?
Angelic figure: Yeah, you kept praying so He made sure help was around. I thought the rope that can pull the elephant was dope!
Pious Man: … How could I have been so stupid?


¬†The intended moral of the story is that a “miracle” can actually present itself in the most mundane of ways. You don’t have to see crying virgin Mary’s or glowing martyrs to be convinced that God exists.

But for me, it also proves a point that it doesn’t matter whether God actually exist or not. I was asked that question by an ex-bf and he insisted for proof. But the thing is, it’s through the actions of people that you feel His existence. Let’s say we have proof that He’s there, but no one wants to follow His teachings. Then what’s the point?

It’s true what they say about poems. They mean different things to different people, at different times and different situations. When I wrote the poem yesterday, I didn’t mean it to be so sad. Or literal. It was basically inspired by me not being able to find the BA II Plus financial calculator handbook. But then tonight I discovered that I had written the future.

I feel so lost… Directionless. I’m not sure what to do. I think I am at the brink of losing something great. But I’m helpless now. I’ve swum against the tide for so long that now it’s up to the waves whether I sink or swim. And the waves, they are staying silent.

The silence is maddening. All sorts of crazy thoughts run through my head when the silence begins. All sorts of scary, scary questions. Does he, does he not. What, why, how. But mostly the what’s.

What have I done now?

What has gone so wrong so suddenly?

What if I’d never done that?

And then I realize craziness isn’t good for you. Unhealthy. To be so filled with self-doubt and self-loathing. It screws you up from the inside out.

The thing is, I don’t know whether to give up or chalk it as yet another silly little thing. But there’ve been way too many silly little things, and suddenly the littles have grown big. Something has to change. If it’s not us, together, then it has to be us, separate.

I’ve said far too many things. Some things that shouldn’t have been said. Things that should have been said in another way. I’ve blurted them all out in an attempt to fill the deadly silence. I’m scared of the silence. The silence is cold, loveless. The silence is suffocating, shrouded in a mystery so thick I just have to crack it, break it like a glass. And then¬†we hurt more.

I’m waiting for the waves.

Crying for the places I may now never visit, the experiences unexperienced. The joy, the hope, the faith in love. In us.

And to think, two hours ago, we were so…

(I can’t find the word I’m looking for.)

July 2018
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