Speak.

Voices, voices
all around
they're swimming in my head.
And i don't know just how or when
or who to listen instead.
The heart that beats
so loud
so strong
so filled with longing and wants
is not what i can listen to
anymore
for i want Your will to be done.
Speak Lord, speak
in Your quiet ways
your servant is listening here.
Let Your voice drown out
the din inside
and the chaotic mess of fear.

"Speak." E.Y

Words

Words.
They're funny little things
that slip
and come and go as they please.

I try to catch them
and make them stay
but they simply
ease away.
I hold them down
on a blank page
in an orderly manner,
like tiny pearls on a necklace string
in sequence
like school children queuing.

But when there's no paper
and there's no pen
they tumble and scatter
like pearls
from a broken necklace.
or children
when the school bell rings.

Words.
Such funny little things.
Only to be bound
by paper and ink.

"Words" by E.Y.

Again

Cluttered.

Thoughts, memories, feelings

In my head they’re

all jumbled.

Hesistant.

Just because i’m afraid

Perhaps it’s safer to be

patient.

Broken.

But you were not afraid

Because you know how it feels to be

abandoned.

Changed.

That’s what i am

though i try hard not to,

i am awakened.

Torn.

Between longing and fear

Between the present and a past

that’s long gone.

Brave.

Not who i am but who i’m trying to be

Because it requires so much

to let go,

move on,

forgive,

forget,

and begin again.

"Again" by E.Y

Best things in life

I read somewhere that the best things in life aren't things. That's pretty true, but i can't agree completely.
Things can bring out feelings and senses, evoking memories. Sometimes they remind you of something you want to forget, sometimes they remind you of what's important and dear.
There's so many things, different things at different seasons of my life that are priceless. And my constant have been books. Storybooks. The smell of a new book or the touch of paper beneath your skin. Off i go on another adventure, leaving everything behind me. I love curling in my blankets on a rainy day, with a cup of warm coffee, that cosy feeling that makes everything alright, even if it's just for a few hours.
Temporary escapism, i guess.
But it's one of the things i treasure in life. The best things- they're not free, but they're simple.

Write again?

I miss writing. I miss the way my heart swells with excitement and beats so fast until i can’t sit still- i have to write those words down, words that are tumbling off the edge of my mind like a waterfall. A cascade of nouns, verbs, adverbs and prepositions, tangling with one another until they form a sentence. Sentence by sentence intricately linked together, forming a story. One that i have to tell.

Nothing beats the feeling of watching words come alive on paper. When you’re writing, they’re your words, given birth through alphabets coming beautifully in order.  

Now why is it so hard to write then? Obviously not for the lack of stories or inspiration. I guess it is fear. Fear that cripples the mind and grips your hands so tight that they dare not move or write.

Fear of rejection.

Fear of disapproval.

Fear of mistakes.

Fear that it is a waste of time.

Fear that i don’t have the talent.

Fear that i leave a story hanging- halfway done.

But i come to a point that i don’t want to care anymore. So be it if i suck in this. I’m writing because i love it. Telling stories even if people don’t want to hear it, watching characters in my head coming to life, exploring possibilities- of what could have been if only i’ve tried.

Everyone has a story to tell. But not everyone tells it. And that is a shame.

If tomorrow never comes.

It was late, and we were tired.
We assumed there would be other nights.
Anna’s breathing started to slow, but I still wanted to talk.
She rolled onto her side.
I said, I want to tell you something.
She said, You can tell me tomorrow.
I had never told her how much I loved her.
She was my sister.
We slept in the same bed.
There was never a right time to say it.
It was always unnecessary.
The books in my father’s shed were sighing.
The sheets were rising and falling around me with Anna’s breathing.
I thought about waking her.
But it was unnecessary.
There would be other nights.
And how can you said I love you to someone you love?
I rolled on my side and fell asleep next to her.
Here is the point of everything I have been trying to tell you, Oskar.
It’s always necessary.

Why didn't I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.

― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Why.

Why do you break promises?
As easy as you blink your eyes.
Don't you know you keep me waiting
right outside these blurred lines?

Why do i even believe your lies?
Maybe cause they sound so good.
Or maybe cause you sugar-coat it
Maybe i'm just a fool.

Why do i even care that much?
When it's eating me up inside.
It leaves me vulnerable like a prey
who can't even put up a fight.

Why do we hold on to broken things?
When they cut you and make you bleed.
Perhaps it's the pain that makes you feel
something that's buried deep.

Why don't you stop? Doesn't it hurt
you as much as I?
Why do we simply let it be,
just living in a lie.

"Why" by E.Y

Material for sacrifice

Sometimes i wonder, what kind of God is it who asks so much of us, even our everything?
Would he ever understand how much it hurts to give up things that you hold dear, for a cause that is even uncertain and doubtful.
The answer came to me quite simply through a book.
The same God who gave up His everything for me, His own son. His perfect, unblemished, flawless son whom he holds dear.
He gives all.
He asks all.

I guess King David says it best, when he wanted to buy Araunah's threshing floor to build an altar, but Araunah gave it up freely. But the king replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.” 2 Samuel 24:18-25

And so, let it be. Take my life and let it be. For waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainties, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to Him. For when the will of God crosses the will of man, somebody has to die.

Thought for the day

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” -C.S. Lewis

What an amazing and profound statement indeed. :)

Memories

Memories 

they haunt me down

in wakeful hours 

in sleep.

Figments of the past 

they play

the rise up from the deep.

Midnight 

then they come

as dreams,

mixed up with fantasies.

Confusingly true

but they're nothing at all,

nothing but fallacies.

If only you knew 

how much it hurts

these unyielding 

memories

the good and the bad

the sweet and the sad

the worst of all maladies.

"Memories" by E.Y

Penang

Feels like time has stopped ticking and we've traveled back into the British era a long, long time ago before the independence of Malaya. Dotted with old weathered buildings here and there, bicycles trailing down the street merrily and tall, tan, white people all around- you could easily forget you're still in Malaysia year 2013.

Minus the car, you've traveled back in time!

I just love waking up early in the morning, strolling by the streets of Georgetown heritage site, getting carried away with the hustle and bustle of a little Chinese town. The market is so lively, the streets filled with bicycles and coloufully decorated 'beca' or trishaws which we seldom see in cities. And when you turn into a corner, surprise! you'll find beautiful murals, painted on the walls as well as wire bended cartoons! 

The food is also good, love the char kuey tiao, cendols, dimsums, and wan tan mee especially, but they're not as good as home-cooked food still! The best-est thing about it all is still the time spent with friends, the silly jokes we pulled off in the middle of the streets, up the hill to Bukit Bendera and walking, exploring for more food to eat like a typical Malaysian.

It all feels so out of the world (by that i mean my world, of course), what a great feeling it is to escape reality even just for a few days after a tiring week of exams. Penang, truly a fusion between old and new, the past and the present. And it's a place where you can always feel the sea breeze, especially when you're along the quay at night. Ahh, it carries me away a thousand miles away to a place, a moment which i treasure the most, which i can never have back. Because the past is past. But for me it'll always be kept and treasured, alongside with the present.

Chew Jetty

along the quay