IOU

How is it that I owe so many people this currency that I barely have control over? This currency that is never growing, and yet ever depleting. This currency that is spent wisely on my accounts, and yet so foolishly wasted all the same. This currency that does not exchange itself for itself, but only in the product of how it is spent. This currency of time.

I owe too many friends 20 minutes worth of letter writing each. 
I owe the dance ministry an additional 1 hour of prayer with each passing week.
I owe my parents 15 minutes of a simple, single Skype call.
I owe my grandma a short and sweet 5 minutes call of care and concern.
I owe a friend a good 2 hours belated birthday treat.
I owe selah.sg 2 hours of solid writing time.
I owe my German friend a 30 minutes Skype call that we’ve been trying to arrange since 1 year ago.
I owe my cell countless of hours of fellowship on Fridays.
I owe the cars a 30 minutes water sprinkle and clean.
I owe the floor a quick 10 minutes sweep.
I owe too many people and things too much, but most of all, 
I owe God a rough estimate of 12 hours per day of undivided attention, 
and I owe Him too many 10 minute morning and night prayer sessions for far too long.

I’ve been spending too much, and now, I live in the debt of it all. 

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I find myself so completely grateful for this season and the many opportunities it has brought. 

For my parents, for my brother. 
For S E L A H, and many others. 
An internship, a much needed prayer,
But all I can do, is sit here and ponder. 
Of His faithfulness and His amazing grace,
For laying out my path, into this adventurous race. 
I stand in awe Lord, of the wonder You are,
I stand in amazement of everything thus far. 
These words may seem little, insufficient even. 
But I can barely contain this joy inside of me,
Barely conceal this excitement and crazy glee. 
So Father I give You praise, You deserve it all. 
Cause You’ve rescued me, every single time that I call.

I find myself so completely grateful for this season and the many opportunities it has brought.

For my parents, for my brother.
For S E L A H, and many others.
An internship, a much needed prayer,
But all I can do, is sit here and ponder.
Of His faithfulness and His amazing grace,
For laying out my path, into this adventurous race.
I stand in awe Lord, of the wonder You are,
I stand in amazement of everything thus far.
These words may seem little, insufficient even.
But I can barely contain this joy inside of me,
Barely conceal this excitement and crazy glee.
So Father I give You praise, You deserve it all.
Cause You’ve rescued me, every single time that I call.

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My eyes are blurry from staring at fine prints all day,
scrutinising another author’s work only to find mine inadequate.
My vision a haze, I can barely differentiate,
a smile from a yawn, a dimple for a wrinkle.
I reach out with my hands to touch the contours of your face,
it found smooth and rough places, but perfect all the same.
So I let my hand guide my vision, to reveal what’s beyond my eyes,
to touch my surroundings that brings colour to the blind.
Because sometimes what we see is not what we know,
and sometimes what we know, we don’t get to see.
But if only we slow down, open our hands, uncurl our fingers,
we might finally,
understand.

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I Am Not Okay

"I am not okay,
I’ll admit that,
I’m really not okay.
And I don’t know why.”


I can’t seem to grasp these emotions,
Can’t seem to comprehend these thoughts.
It almost feels like I’m floating around,
And yet, vitally connected to people and sounds.
These negative spaces,
undeveloped, untouched.
So raw and exposed,
all I see are white spaces.
Yet to be filled, yet to be known.
And so I’ve heard that people are afraid of the unknown.


Maybe that’s why I don’t understand,
Maybe that’s why I can’t.
Maybe that’s why I never will,
Until I figure out that I can.


But until that happens,
I’ll be okay with these negatives.
To witness that life still unfolds,
Still goes on,
still unravels,
still moves.
And still admit that I am not okay.
But maybe I will be okay,
Tomorrow.

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I Wonder If You Notice

His hand finds its way to her back, almost instinctively, and large enough that it almost covers her left shoulder blade. 
I wonder if she notices how he holds her every time the train arrives or leaves a station, catching her before each jerk.
As if his hand was of a physical support, just in case she falls backwards whenever the train jerks forwards. 
His attention is all on her, so it seems like his hand had a life of its own, knowing when to hold, and when not to. I wonder if she notices. 

-

His mouth hangs wide open as his bobbing head rubs against the previous passengers’ oily hair stain on the window.
His shirt crumpled, and yet neatly buttoned and tucked in, I wonder if he notices the frown on his forehead, even in his sleep. 
As if he is perpetually worried about his work, or family, or finance. That beneath that work attire, he has a heart that loves his loved ones. I wonder if he notices that. 

-

Her hair fell almost perfectly upon her fair shoulders — brown, big curls, slightly messy. The near perfection is the most beautiful part. 
I wonder if she notices the beauty in her eyes, and the elegance in her poise, as she lifts her eyes to look at her phone. 
Her slender fingers that curls around her pink-covered 5s, and the subtle purse of her lips. She might not believe that she’s a beauty, but I wonder if she has yet to notice that she is. 

-

That girl now rests her hand on his elbow, as his hands held onto the pole. As if she trusted more in his strength, than the sturdiness of the pole.
I wonder if he notices that she dressed up and made up for him, clad in an electric blue dress that brought out her best. 
She rested in his hand that brought support to her every time the train moved forward or stopped.
I wonder if he notices how much love she felt from the little traces of his fingers he leaves on her back every time he places and removes his hand from her back.

-

Because I noticed all of these, and I’m glad I did. That amidst the busyness of life, the bustle and shoving on the train, I noticed beauty and love in you, strangers. And I hope you’ll notice that beauty in yourselves too.

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I’m really thankful for you,
You may not know it, or ever read this.
But I’m thankful for you.
Because I know that behind those eyes,
There’s a sensitive soul that sees gently.
That behind those calloused hands,
There has to be space, for another.
But whether these knowings will prove true,
I’m reminded again, to remain thankful.

To never expect too much,
To never step ahead.
To live on the edge,
But never, too daring.
To always be thankful,
For the little moments I’ve had,
For the exchange of glances,
Or the accidental passing we’ve had.

To always be satisfied and content,
That my heart would always be full,
That it leaves no space for empty questions or contempt.
No space for judgement or worry,
No room for any door of lies,
No way of self-reliance,
None. None of all these,
Or I’ll never be thankful for you.

But today, I am thankful,
and inspired by you.

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It was in that moment that he realised
that silence spoke much louder than words,
and tears much louder than silence.
And then, her quiet whisper of an answer
did not weigh that much anymore,
when her hug spoke louder than his heart.

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    She was constantly on a hunt for love, for that beating of her heart, and the glisten in one’s eyes. For that connection, that word, that very special moment. And soon, she found herself falling in love, with love. The idea, the concept, the dream for romance. The expectations, the ideals, and all the other fables of true love. She relished in the thoughts of arms around waist, fingers interlocked, adventures pursued, and mysteries discovered. She fell in love with love so hard that, well, Love was pushed out of the way. 

    The reality of Love and the power of Love was brought low, diminished, snuffed out in the chase for love. Her heart emptied out of everything that Love once lavished on her, and she wondered why. It took awhile, but the windows of her heart to pursue love began to close, ever so slowly, as if every inch moved caused a deep ache within her soul. Her clenched fist on the idea of romance began to loosen, the grip on love was released.

    And then, as if Love knew the condition of her heart, which He obviously does, Love stepped in with a warm embrace. The wind that felt like arms around the waist, the assurance like fingers interlocked, the excitement of adventures pursued, and the anticipation for mysteries to be discovered. Her heart was full. Love came back, but He only came back when she decided to pursue Love, instead of love. 

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When a locked up heart begins to open up, so wide and unrestrained, that it begins to crumble with vulnerability. The act of love and consideration for other mortals, draws a deep well within that soul, of insecurities, weakness, and of hope. It almost doesn’t seem to be eloquent enough or detailed in its vision, but it is. It is a tapestry of raw emotions, put together delicately with intention unintentionally. Every word, strung onto the word before, hanging loosely from one’s cluttered mind, to find it in a beautiful mess on the blank canvas laid before.

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Oh December, what took you so long?You look and smell completely different this year.Still playing with the strands of last December,I remember the smell of Brisbane’s sea, and its sound in my ears,when the sun in its glorious state appeared, I found myself in towns, fields, and cool, windy days.But with the thunders and showers in these few months,I find myself submerged in books, work, and rainy days.You’ve always been one of my favourites of the twelve,but maybe not this time around.Brighter days will come I am sure,just maybe only when the new year bell sounds.I am still thankful for the joy that you bring,the love and grace that follows you.But I’m looking forward to your sister, January,where life begins and refreshes, to start anew.
"End your year well"

Oh December, what took you so long?
You look and smell completely different this year.
Still playing with the strands of last December,
I remember the smell of Brisbane’s sea, and its sound in my ears,
when the sun in its glorious state appeared, 
I found myself in towns, fields, and cool, windy days.
But with the thunders and showers in these few months,
I find myself submerged in books, work, and rainy days.
You’ve always been one of my favourites of the twelve,
but maybe not this time around.
Brighter days will come I am sure,
just maybe only when the new year bell sounds.
I am still thankful for the joy that you bring,
the love and grace that follows you.
But I’m looking forward to your sister, January,
where life begins and refreshes, to start anew.

"End your year well"

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You are the shoulders that I have cried on,the silent voice of comfort in the storm.You have been the constant in the battles of life,the provider in my daily strife.Your hands have held and embraced me,and your heart remained tender and soft.Your feet have walked before my path,and showed me where is smooth and rough.Your eyes are so gentle, as I gaze into them,and they have assured me countless of times.Your laughter and chuckle filled the air,and your face is so beautiful, it shines.I can’t imagine life without you,you have a hold on my heart.Your voice alone makes it beat and stop,and your life is like a canvas of art.You have inspired me to worship,to dance, to sing, to live.You have awakened a part of me I never knew,You are the biggest blessing I’ve received.So today I am grateful for you.My family, friends, and mentors,You are all undeserved blessings,from the almighty God,

You are the shoulders that I have cried on,
the silent voice of comfort in the storm.
You have been the constant in the battles of life,
the provider in my daily strife.
Your hands have held and embraced me,
and your heart remained tender and soft.
Your feet have walked before my path,
and showed me where is smooth and rough.
Your eyes are so gentle, as I gaze into them,
and they have assured me countless of times.
Your laughter and chuckle filled the air,
and your face is so beautiful, it shines.
I can’t imagine life without you,
you have a hold on my heart.
Your voice alone makes it beat and stop,
and your life is like a canvas of art.
You have inspired me to worship,
to dance, to sing, to live.
You have awakened a part of me I never knew,
You are the biggest blessing I’ve received.
So today I am grateful for you.
My family, friends, and mentors,
You are all undeserved blessings,
from the almighty God,

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What are you looking for? Why are you so restless? Don’t search too hard for love, don’t be too careless.
Trust a little more, and step into the darkness. But keep one eye open at night, to look for the brightness.
Lose yourself to the movement, lose your heart to the beat. Eat the bitter pill, cause you’ll never know if it’s sweet.

What are you looking for? Why are you so restless? Don’t search too hard for love, don’t be too careless.
Trust a little more, and step into the darkness. But keep one eye open at night, to look for the brightness.
Lose yourself to the movement, lose your heart to the beat. Eat the bitter pill, cause you’ll never know if it’s sweet.

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Spirit, call me upon the deep, where unchartered waves steal my heart,and may I be still in the face of my Saviour.

Spirit, call me upon the deep, 
where unchartered waves steal my heart,
and may I be still in the face of my Saviour.

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Standing at the edge of the deck,
You look up into the sky.
Its darkness contrasts the stars,
Another night’s passing by. 
The ship is still,
With its anchors plunged deep.
And yet, the wave tosses and turns,
As if, it never sleeps. 
The winds of life seems to blow,
And every slow thing quickens. 
My anchor runs through and through,
As the walls of my heart thickens. 
Embracing the gust, 
We find ourselves entwined,
With these desires for the other World,
To sail beyond confines.

Standing at the edge of the deck,
You look up into the sky.
Its darkness contrasts the stars,
Another night’s passing by.
The ship is still,
With its anchors plunged deep.
And yet, the wave tosses and turns,
As if, it never sleeps.
The winds of life seems to blow,
And every slow thing quickens.
My anchor runs through and through,
As the walls of my heart thickens.
Embracing the gust,
We find ourselves entwined,
With these desires for the other World,
To sail beyond confines.

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I Miss Being A Child

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I miss being a child.
There was always new sounds to realise,
new sights to discover.
When your inquisitive heart is seen as adorable,
even if you asked the same question, seven times over.
The sound of the invisible, the one the fan makes.
You shout into it, only to find yourself choking,
on your own saliva.

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I miss being a child.
Things were always too high to reach,
and walls far too tall to climb.
Time seemed so infinite,
especially when it came to play-time.
The word ‘play’ rings so clearly in your ears,
and the least you wanted to hear, was
"Come on over, it’s bedtime."

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You then drag your little feet,
without any worries and troubles in mind,
The next thought you have, 
is if you’d get a bedtime story tonight.
You close your giggly eyes,
and wait for the kiss on your forehead.
"Mama, papa, please" you’d smile,
and they’d pick you, and put you in their bed.
I miss being a child.


(Picture source:You Are My Wild)

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