Cleaning Out the Dust Pod

Really sorry about not blogging for the past few months, but I was taking a computer break, and its done wonders for my "boring zone" stamina and, surprisingly, horrors for my weighing scale and my computer stamina.

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Today I cleaned out some of my drawers and shelves, you'd be surprised how much junk I have that I'll probably never refer to in my life. I toke my mother's words nearly literally. "Don't hoard."

The moment I heard that I thought about that line in the Bible which says that you should store up treasures in heaven because earthly possessions will be eaten by moths.

Other than the junk, I was glad to collect a boxful of good memories with my friends. Letters, notes, drawings, gifts. Each of them had a bit of a bitter past attached to it. I made a lot of mistakes in my relationships with friends and I've always found it so difficult to socialise well in a big group, my attention always seemed diverted in such situations.

I've still got a lot more to clear out from my room and some new things to put in place once I make, not find, time to do what I want.

Ever since the church camp and all the rest of the spiritual walks, I feel as though I don't really spend enough time with God, and that my mind is just too focused on the unimportant. Max Lucado's book, God Came Near, is really an eye-opener, putting things that I knew and simply swallowed down into perspective.

Take my hair dressing appointment today. I nearly headed for the Teenage magazine as I normally do there to get my fashion and teenage quiz and how-to-do fixes. But I had brought along that book, which I'm still reading. I don't think i would have been able to face those words after having read the commercialised glossy pages. Any sin is as bad as the next, because it makes no difference in God's sight. It was what He carried to the cross.

My relatives from Melbourne (where we went for a wonderful holiday), gave me this book titled Bras and Broomsticks thinking it would be the sort of thing a fourteen going on fifteen girl would read. Well, it would be. only reading novels with steamy scenes and lusting for the cool lists and It-Girl positions seem to turn me off now, even though I have some sort of innate desire to read about them. Like the book said in the first chapter. "Is it wrong to?" At least I've put it down before advancing to the third chapter.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I want that sort of thing sometimes. To be considered popular and not a boring goody-two-shoes, which I am definitely not. I'm still only one of the few people in art class who can look at a nude painting without feeling like its anything t0 be ashamed of. Although it does seem like pornography. All these hazy gray areas!!! Begone!

What about being a witch? I would like to be able to cast spells and all, but the Bible firmly says no. I used to imagine I was in Harry Potter's world when I was younger and in desperate need for a bedside companion at night, having no siblings to chat with until sleep overcame me.

Or how about a heiress or a superstar who can fling money wherever whenever? Right.

When am I ever going to get it even remotely straight set for myself?

The Difficult Crossing

Alright, the exams will start on Friday, two days away and today is Wednesday. Gosh, I am so worried about my comprehension for the English paper. And the essay, and oh, for every subject which comes my way until next next tuesday. Can't even remember the dates for my exam, much less History dates.

But beyond that, I think there's a terrible storm brewing right under everyone's royal noses. With exam pressure, relationship tensions are reaching near breaking point with some secrets let out and very candid gossip sessions during recess. Just escaped one, but I think that I participated too much yesterday. Its hard when you have a "cold war" with the said and mention person. I didn't initiate it, but seriously, you can't help but worry. I fear that my other friends might see me as an infiltrator and a liar. Ah well, what can I do. I just need to be less liberal on my blog.

Haven't blogged in ages, there is such a thrill in it.

Opps there goes the bell. I'll be writing more after the exams. I mean tests. I mean, distinguishing factors.

Help me with Chinese. Someone give me a potion or spell for it. A concoction which will work wonders would be just the thing.

Weird Dreams

I woke up today with the strangest dream. And about all the people...

And I forgot about it until now, four-o-eight in the afternoon.

I dreamt I was trying to evacuate or somthing. Some evil dominating thing, perhaps George Orwel's 1984 has got into me, either that or Kim Possible cartoons. With my mom and dad, we were trying to pack things up into suitcases and I remember looking at some books.

So, we appear at a large courtyard of some sorts, like the middle of Times Square, only with buildings looking more Asian and toned down. I get this notion of helping out at Michael Jackson's performance. Only thing is: No crowd and no bodyguards or media personnel. Only children who are being fed spagetthi with meat balls.

I was holding onto my velveted journal and I wanted to get his autograph. I think I saw an elongated version of it in my dream. I may have seen Michael Jackson's face, but he didn't sing. There were definitely barricades and a white stage. One moment there were a lot of children and people and someone swinging on a swing, then the next, there would be a haunting quality to the scene.

Can dreams get much weirder? I think it was due to the "Heal the World" song they repeatedly played during breaks at a course I went for yesterday.

And no, Michael Jackson did not mean anything more to me than a good singer who supported humanitarian causes.

Journal Entry 04

Shame. That's the word I picked from the book of psalms today. Quite appropriate, since our class was defeated in the literature drama competition. But that's okay with me. I was the mere costumes' designer.

There must be something wrong with me, otherwise the same problems can't keep hitting a person. Why do people seem to exclude me so much and make claims that I'm excluding them? Well, I don't write private notes or sit next to the person and make-believe an invisible wall and pretend to be a psychaitrist and ask my friend to humor me. Sorry, I've gotten over this, but its a very classic example.

Well, I don't hide things. I feel guilty when I do. People know what I think of them, but I don't see why friends won't come clean to me. I guess I'm not the confidant people want. Too something-something or lacking in something-something. Its even harder when talking to you, God. I know I'm special, that I'm really important to God, that I shouldn't judge or assume or bother about what other people whisper in my full knowledge (hey, i don't hire private investigators or have loyal people to glean such information out). Its impossible to find the equipoise for this relationship.

I can't wait for Sunday, where I'll be my family. The world is a hard place to live in and one just whishes that we could live protected and sheltered, nto subject to shame or ridicule. Like me, to a certian extent, when I was emcee for the play, only told of the role less than 12 hours before, and decided to wear the tent like skirt Portia was supposed to wear but dumped for a more tailored suit. Not that I can blame anyone. that's the thing about it. Are people afraid that they'll hurt me or blatantly disregarding my feelings. Screaming "MY EYES, THEY BURN!!!" while running out of the bathroom... yeah. But I'm quite over that too, I'm thankful that I had fun all the same.

Maybe I'm just too proud, as Mrs. Wong says our generation is. I just don't want to feel like a pigmy when in truth, classmates in school push you around anyhow. Lesson learnt then. I just have to let go. Disconnect but stay ready for any erson who needs a ear or a hand.

Amen

I'm quite worried. There's a debate (practice) tomorrow with another school and yesterday's debate made me feel so inadequate. I wonder how much is enough. Of course one can always do better than the next person, but is that enough? What do people expect of me? I know that I can think on my feet better than some, but I get frustrated when I get a technical glitch with my computer or someone says something really out of point in a debate.

That's unimportant, the thing is that I sometimes dream really weird things. Last night I dreamt I was in my school P.E. shirt and shorts and started moving my legs around a lot on top a table in the teacher's staff room, while I was talking to the teacher. Someone later commented that I looked like a hooker or something to that extent. I only felt vaguely embarrassed and ashamed. Like I was Charlie Gordon in Flowers for Algernon. As I think back, I can't decide if I really saw my classmates and a teacher there. Or if its just my sub-conscious mind working, whatever theory that is. Dreams are peculiar. But I do hope they don't reflect real life. But I've never been comfortable in the P.E. attire.

I think Flowers of Algernon has really influenced me this week. I can't help wondering if I'm mentally or emotionally retarded. Or if I am an incompetent person doing something trivial which is of great importance to me. What about God's will? Oh, freedom of choice sometimes hampers your own decision. Oh Lord, why is it so difficult sometimes to get weird things like dreams and events sorted out.

Please help me. I need the safety that David talks about in the book of Psalms. I wish that I could curl up into a ball and ignore the Literature test, the friends, the exams, the expectations, the numerous events being thrown onto me. Bu that's life ain't it. Shall just live with it.