[short note]: update link - and probably permanent weblog for my own journal writings

It has been a while. After the 2 days of my sick leave, somehow I manage to gather the strength to write stuff and reorganize the thoughts.

Not too bad to begin with, but after several touch up and changes on the blog content, I have decided to simplify the design and put more emphasis on the text rather than visual impressiveness. Think this is more me than trying to beautify something that doesn't belong to myself.

Let's see how far this design will stay till.
In the meantime, I am quite glad that I can start up something again - a desire of accountability that I have left behind for a long time. Reading these posts really conjured a lot of memories, albeit some being unpleasant.

Rest Stop Thoughts: How should Christians respond to the Allah controversy? (Part 3 - Final)

Recent readings from a sharing from my good friend from JB spark in me the sense of justice in the face of humility.

A good reading that gives the background of the controversial 'Allah' and how we as Christian should respond.

http://write2rest.blogspot.sg/2014/02/how-should-christians-respond-to-allah_9694.html?m=1

虚假-自我人生就此变得没有能够返回当年的纯真吗?

若有一天我变得复杂,我是否还记得自己当年的纯真。对于他人的慷慨待遇。我是否还记得当一个人在漂浮人生找到真理。找到一个能让我记得生活点点滴滴的小小细节。使我变了虚假了吗?

[reflection]: The complexity of Facade

Listened to a song today.

Reflecting through my own failures, I felt immensely discouraged.

I use lies to hide the real me, and imprisoned the real me beyond the gaze of humanity.

And when I spend time to look within me, to find the real me,

A song broke free, and this reflects of me:

Pain in heart, sorrow in the spirit.

I cried myself tonight, a tear to bring the spirit of confession.

And pray and hope that tonight's confession is the beginning of liberating the real me.

[reflection]: post-2013

Waking up with a jarring effect on my hearing isn't the first time experienced after the hangover, despite the loud music and the shouting from the company I had the day before. Guess the feeling of hangover is already a guilt-ridden emotions. Sometimes, I look into my life and I start to wonder if whatever I played along in my life was worth the journey. When the morning breaks, my usual mode of contemplation has, in recent months, turned sour and inwards, like a blade cutting deep into the wounds that was supposed to heal. The hardest part of the day was actually in the morning, when I heard the conscience whispering, ever not giving up the hope of prompting the inner soul of this nagging question:

"Why am I in this thought again?"

Memories - mostly good but perverted, consummated me again and again. Convincing myself that I have been healed, I moved on a journey of companionship, not letting difficulties coming my way anymore. Now is the time for commitment, I told myself, and since then I have been limping through the darkness thinking that I have been enlightened.

I was wondering at times, what am I fighting for, seriously? To survive in this world? To gain recognition as the favoured guitarist in my friends' band? To be able to perform onstage one day telling the stories of my screwed up perspective? To actually be able to sit and the back and control the music, and let people know that it is I, THE sound engineer, who is in-charge? To actually spend most of the days with my girlfriend and her family, and to have a pleasant time together? To be safe and sound and healthy and prosperous in my community? To gain a title for my own for the respect I fought hard for? To get the best intimate moments with the best girls that I know I can have sex with? To lean onto the understanding of the wise and being called the wisest of all? To be part of the holy ones and ordained myself to be celibate and be consecrated before God?

I often wondered all these things when I am alone in my room waking up early in the morning, after a horrible dream night. And too much was being digested in the head, because it felt so much like a hangover. Real hangover.

This new year, literally I felt as if whatever that I have achieved for years have now being drained down and become null. Sometimes, we all think that life in its finest are the achievement of milestones and all the striking off from the bucket list. I myself, however, leaning onto my bed and looking up onto the empty ceiling, wondered if it all meant the same whether we stroke off the bucket list or to set resolutions to meet our milestones (be it of good morale conscience or something dare-devil that we want to try).

"We are still, after all, human. Fallen beings."

I see the corruption of humanity even in myself, when troubles strike, and adversities come our ways. I would tend to explain off and blame it onto someone else - giving excuses that it is not initially my fault that has caused this problem. Just like Adam and Eve, I am equally guilty of being sinful. And yet, I think high and mighty and press it upon others for reasons of upward mobility. And slicing the conscience layer into thin surface gradually, I thought of life as running like a rat in a rat race, though at the end I am still a rat. Wonder who went that far to think and how much we have become to lure ourselves away from our conscience.

What did I learn during 2013? Plenty to begin with, but more of a guilty sense rather than a contemplative and reflective. Firstly, in my work place I have realised just how much power-driven I am towards attaining the respect from my colleagues and my peers. My temper was actually surprisingly rampant (though if you really know me since the beginning of friendship you may have thought that I have re-packaged my anger to be of more justified righteousness). My attitude towards authorities are very childish and constantly imagining that I am the right one. My affluence towards monetary control gave me more freedom, and many price to pay in the meantime. Lewd living, spending beyond what's capable on my end, treat poverty with distaste - my attitude towards social justice has become totally laughing stock. I even subscribed towards the idea that we are entitled for better living, just like how Buddhism and Hinduism believe. Worst still, I have been influenced by the family of my girlfriend to think that we deserve better, therefore now I am a practicing glutton learning to reduce my food intake, less health is slowly decaying from the inside.

With all these in mind, I find it hard to move on with 2014, especially when I broke so much resolutions. Not only did I fail to comply, I actually went the other direction, and therefore now leaving myself deceitful shackles hoarding round my conscience limbs. I couldn't imagine this happened, and for now, all I can do is to just to leave myself in a lurch.

"What is this, my child? Have you given up hope?"

It is in one of the night in Hong Kong, that I heard a faint whisper from the same source but in a different tone. Instead of reprimanding and stern whisper, this whisper has changed into a tone of gentle yet sympathizing. Was it because I am getting tired of running, and now I can only lay low and watch my soul rot - that in such shameful visual I suddenly see a grain of light vignetting across?

"God desires a contrite heart - so never give up - until the end."

Would we all receive forgiveness? Despite all the above? I wondered out loud at that particular morning, looking out to the tall buildings surrounding my hotel stay. Looking at the scenery on a winter, with neighbourhood still reeking from the post-new-year-celebration, I wondered if my contemplation would make any sense at all. They don't seem to get the idea that coming into a new year, a new beginning may have begun, or so I thought to myself.

I drafted today, 5 days into the new year, hoping that this will thus begin the journey of redemption. Slowly walking with my beloved, I decide that I need to have orientation of my life. At least I have to consistently look upon the direction of which the beacon leads me. And do not over commit over far-fetched resolutions, but rather keep in simple milestones what is the Lord's direction - one at a time. I have affinity towards sexual immorality, so I have to find something on it. I have lost touch with my health track over food intake and my frequent jog, so I should look into that as well. Short trips with my good friend just to chill and enjoy the company for a day or two may have been a good idea as part of the self-retreat over the weekend. Above all, me and my beloved decide to spend more time discovering our faith in each pace (hers with her cousin who has been trying to encourage her to undertake retreats and bible studies, while I am thinking very hard to go back into the cell group routine).

I am indeed sinful, as I reflect on 2013. Must worse than the previous years, especially when heinous thoughts were conceived and undesired and provocative actions were exhibited to veil the inner sinful character of mine. Perhaps for 2014, I would take heed to listen to the poor conscience again, at least giving him a better rest despite in a house arrest.

Hebrews 12:1-12. Amen.

[poem]: fire within you

To live within the grasp of life,
And there after to throw it apart like it has never happened.

Sweet sorrow, perhaps.
Like a fire seeping black.

When it seeps black, would we remember the first instances,
Of life's one initial journey and what will follow after?

I master my destiny, yet in many ways I lost to my own contempt.
Where would contempt lay? Asking my heart the truth.

[short reflection]: post-reading from recent favorite

"One deep and serious groan is more acceptable to God than the creation of the world"

Thomas Traherne

Turning back to His heart proved difficult, yet easy. Just like a mischievous child, who has realized the potent of sinfulness that aggravates and eventually distanced himself from the aging parents - that when he comes back, no matter how much heartache the parents would have felt - in them there burns a desire to just hug and tell them, "Come back my son. And I will shower you again with my love - with all that matters".

Would therefore I be of good courage to turn back now and return to the path, just as the prodigal son? Would I?

[reflection]: wayward, are we?

I would probably admit the fact that it is in me that cause the whole commotion that I am going wayward. Desires wanting to be met and notwithstanding the urgent desire and need to get them met.

[reflection]: simple track of life

Think back on the days that I have gotten myself in a deep mire. Of which - in many chapters of my life that I have brought myself together into: deceit, betrayal, mistrust, isolation - eventually depression.

And I start to realize that it all starts with the idea of wanting to be complicated. Complicated in thought process, at least. 

During my younger days, when I start to write alternative blogs (dirt-ren being my usual pseudo-name when identified online) I always tend to put myself as a complicated child with multiple complex disorder. Going through difficult times since young, I often looked at myself to be constantly misunderstood and difficult to comprehend. Usually, the gatherings with my friends end up in stalemate mainly in my own mind - thinking of the alternate reality that they actually lived in their own personal space. 

Then, of course, comes the romantic relationship with multiple people that I know of. Slightly more melancholic compared to Hollywood romance, there's complicated circumstances where I love the other, and the other doesn't and we all went around loving others. Puppy love to lusty love - things can go pretty much unconventionally sinful. 

I don't think I have the wisdom of the wise and elderly to give this input to carry the weight, but I felt that up to this point, I began to appreciate life in its simplicity. And I believe, in simplicity we have brought a lot of very important and crucial details to its most precise meaning and sole purpose. We spent too much time organizing meetings talking about objectives, while rebels outside tried very hard to dispel and came out with their own protocol (which however hard they try, it seems apparent that its another set of rules built with complicated circumstances). In the end, what we achieved are institutions bogged down with own sets of complexity that people are 'proud of' because they thought they have come up with a system. 

Conformity destruction, perhaps. 

Reflecting upon my recent readings from Philip Yancey's 'Church, Why Bother?' and some recent occurrence in my worship ministry and my workplace, I have found an important truth in handling all these issues: when viewed in simplicity, you put yourself in proper perspective of things. 

Playing as a bassist for 7 years in my church, I grew from playing too much to playing too confusing. When I first began, I like to do a lot of metal licks on my bass, even though we are in a contemporary 'worship-led' music, because of my first love for music for heavy metal. Lots of unwanted syncopated notes starts running here and there. A keyboardist during that time in my church (presently a regular session player in Manhattan as a jazz keyboardist) told me try to keep things in the root, and listen to the kick. Little did I realize that I took 7 years, with a lot of taming from my music exposure, to realize the importance of simplicity - and ironically it is also being emphasized recently by another keyboardist. 

I shared in the recent experience with them, how I felt the importance of keeping things in the basics - by starting to listen out for people, to look out for the cues of what other people play, I am losing self-awareness and starting to be more conscious to look out for people. In short, it became less-me-and-more-others. This perspective gave me new insights, especially when I am serving in church on volunteering basis. Precisely because of serving, I should look at my role as an instrument, not a right. A means to serve, not the end of the serving. I do want to get acknowledgment, and hope that people starts saying how good I am, but I realize that in turn I am forcing pride on me, making it another vices away from servitude. It humbles me to realize how great a band can sound when everyone looks out to compliment each other, not to overplay one another. 

In my workplace, I often found protocols for inter-department to be a terrible impediment towards efficiency, despite the constant emphasis of the importance to respect the workflow. Strangely, after those propaganda throughout the general meeting, the same management group will draw us into closer circle within smaller room, and announce that we have the authority to overrule the present protocols because we are of management roles. So long as accountability exists between management and approval with top management is done, things should be alright, according to the main guy running the show. I find such statement stale of consistency, though I felt that in his management role, he has reluctantly admit the ridiculous protocols to have slowed things down rather than empowering them. Many a time, I would reflect on the company direction and re-interpret them so that when I organize my own engineering team discussion, informally I would try to reflect the single most important idea that they should put hold onto. It is hard, because at times I may mis-inform my engineers about my management is more concerned with, but I do know that at the end, results are all that matters to them.

And I am sometimes saddened to hear that all my management is concerned about is figures and facts, sadly a conformity towards what the society is teaching us - efficient to the bones. On recent note, when my grandma passed away (the last grandparent that I know, and the one actually closest to me - I stayed at her premise during the period of which I found my gift in music) and I told my management about this, I was dumbfounded by a passing remark by the man running the show: "Life is fleeting, and we all will pass away eventually. That's why you need to start working hard to make this company eternal". 

Eternal? 

Effectively telling us to commit our souls to the company (his company to be correct), I went back home thinking about life and all its meaning, making it even the more important point to leave this company at some juncture.

Of which I start to ask questions: so what is my calling?

I am very surprised that when I start to self-evaluate myself to this degree, I realize that all that is require is to listen to His voice, and be still in His presence. With all the running technology impressing upon us the need to be prompt and attentive to all things all the time, we often forget to give space to simple living, simple giving, simple praying. 

Do not get me wrong though. I do not encourage reductionist, because when it is misapplied, reductionist tends to reduce even existence to very meaningless objective. That we are all particles randomly collided to become human, that sexual intimacy is greatly overplayed in romance when it is just a form of habitation and survival. No doubt life and its meaning are full of mysteries of which we as human cannot comprehend its full meaning apart from acknowledgment of the existence of God and the Trinity - but we should not also underplay the importance of getting into the basics. Such jargon may seem difficult, unless we look at the perspective of trust and faith - of a child, despite the burdens of the world and all its trauma since the many wars - still lie in solace before a mother, weaning with her milk - looking out through the tainted glass, blood-tainted from the many blood murdered in a war. The solace is not a declaration of ignorance, like many secular reductionist putting it to be - but a trust that there's a Higher Power and that even with the difficulties, there's trust that God will do what's good in its right time.

And so, with this mentality, I continue to find ways to seek God in His presence, deliberately putting aside all the disturbance and the priorities of life, just to be still. And in this reflection, I found much comfort in realizing important of coming back to the basic - to the heart of worship. 

Just like the reflection I have for worship service, and also the immense workload I have for work, I start to feel that it is important that I keep to the basics, and make it simple. 

A random musings, perhaps. 

[reflection]: when conformity destroys

To assume that I have to come to my workplace, with the mentality of a guerilla fighter may not sound too far-fetched after all. When besetting problems that come my way consistently, I often feel that all the battles that I have conjured up to, seems to be fruitless. And when I think about the managing director of the company that I am working for - in which he has single-handedly brought up the company in what he thought to be 

[Reflection]: BECK - The Beginning of Inspiration

Several years back, back in the humble room, overlooking on the windows facing another hostel. Brick-wall surrounding the room may have given the looming image of depression - as I struggled to find an identity in school. That was my first year. In that time, my roommate happened to be one of the top-notched students in his junior college, and he is in the front line of his studies - and several years later becoming one of the key engineers behind the most updated Google Map. At that time, perhaps nothing else matters to me - as I was way behind, and really couldn't much understand the pace of life in Singapore and all the ultra complicated syllabus taught in school. 

As I recall, a good friend was suggesting to me a website where I can download videos and Japanese animation for my own leisure - just to get away from the busy life and perhaps, to indulge in self-delusion. To be frank, it doesn't seem so difficult to understand back then because truly, life is very difficult when you are alone and you have not much people you can safely rely on. 

In this instance, I found this peculiar yet poignant Japanese animation called 'BECK: Mongolian Chop Squad'.

It won't do justice in putting a description of how much this anime impacted my life, but as of now, I am in a deep-seated mood reflecting upon my musical journey and the sudden gush to want to meet back some of the old friends that I have met as band musicians. Perhaps another return from hiatus, but for now - I would like to leave with a lyrics from the last episode of this Japanese Animation, that I would say is the greatest in my life.

Band: 10-Feet 
TItle: Little More Than Before

I don't know since when I changed to such a cold-hearted guy
I have to warm this frozen, icy, lonely heart to thaw
I like being wrapped with warmness more than anything else for sure
I'm gonna make my coming days to be filled with laughter and joy

I let myself down that I'm more cruel than I thought I would be
I'm just a loser who ends up by caring for my soul
I've become a man from a kid and now turn back to a kid again
I can now show and give my love a little more than before

Sorrow is what I hate but it's grown my sensations
Regrets taught me how to make any hard decisions
Peace is always by my side but I've never felt it once
Love is not the word only for the sweet romance

Well, I'm scared, scared, scared, scared to death
And I'm scared to keep on going on my way
Well, I'm scared, scared, scared, scared to death
And I'll tell myself I'm special till the end

Recalling my torn, broken, aching heart of these long days
And all the memories I wanted to forget for making leaps
Recalling, breaking, aching, crying, making sure to me
And I take all and grin at my future on the way

Sorrow is what I hate but it's grown my sensations
Regrets taught me how to make any hard decisions
Peace is always by my side but I've never felt it once
Love is not the word only for the sweet romance

Well, I'm scared, scared, scared, scared to death
Well, I'm scared, scared, scared, scared to death
Well, I'm scared, scared, scared, scared to death
And I'll tell myself I'm special till the end

I've become a man from a kid and now turn back to a kid again
I can now show and give my love a little more than before

[poem]: wrought around

Wouldn't have thought of the truth,
If it wasn't the truth that convicts me.
After all, intuition holds the decisions.

Upon the desk, with many memories,
Still the sadness forever overwhelmed me. 
Whatever the consequence, I bore them all. 

The melancholy, wrought around ever since,
The days when guilt so ever eluded me.
Shone out the evident, through that looking glass. 

I whimpered at my own transgression,
Oh to whom can I give up my destiny,
One that is wrought with pain and shame.

In this moment, I saw the good Book, 
Providence must have played His cards well,
Never a coincident so 

[short note]: heavy day at work

A poor colleague went overseas to visit his family (his children and his wife are based in Phillipines). He gave us his source code so that I can work on it. I volunteered to help because apart from the fact that I have experience, I know there's no one who is able to support his work. Incidentally I am not from this specialization, but he is a good friend.

Prior to that I note of his programming skills and I told him a few times - he has limitation in his programming skills. Due to the company huge intakes in projects, he has taken too much load.

As I was looking at his source code, I couldn't help but think - how could I fulfill the deadline with so many loop holes here and there?

I was pretty upset, but remembering how dedicated despite his weak programming skills, I couldn't help but feel sad yet disappointed.

My heart felt a lot, yet my rational mind thinks likewise. What can be done?

[reflection]: the co-workers

Pray.

They have lost directions, of many ways. Some were so lethargy that the only thing they can think of is going through the motion to get the salary they needed badly for survival.

So pray.

That the only reason they need becomes the reason they endeavor - for righteousness.

The hard work that they endured is not only for the sake of survival, but also for the sake of betterment in their lives.

So pray.

That they will eventually find rest in the fact that all hard work leads to futility of rewards in this world, but of immense worth for the life to come.

That they will eventually, by the testimonies of those who profess the faith of Christ to hold steadfast and be the salt and light of the world for those that were lost.

Therefore, please pray with me. In Jesus' name, Amen.

[reflection]: the night before the work day

Thinking about working tomorrow, after one month break - and I wondered what should I bring into the work place, if I can summarize everything during the long month break.

The first thing that came to my mind is accountability. I need to re-establish that in order to make sure that my conduct is in check. 

Second thing was the servanthood of leadership. I need to make sure that the role of leadership is not abstract and distant, in accordance to what my team subordinate feels. 

However - as I pondered upon, I realized that all else matters to nothing, if one core thing, just like the Teacher in Ecclesiastes said: "Fear God, for it is the only meaning you could find in life". 

Fear God... and really, I was humbled by the experience of His presence during the month long break.

So what could be taken out from the month break? How do I apply what I learn in the working place?

I have decided - humble enough to purify myself - seeing the face of God in the work place, and seeing different purposes in life. 

Pray that tomorrow will be a good journey towards the end of life for me. This may have been one of the many breaks I will take occasionally, but a good one to reflect upon my spiritual state. 

[narratives]: Let Ghost be Bygone...

Another dark night. What a wretched life I have!

"Stop all the struggles. Didn't you like this feeling? The senses are all responding, my darling."

Yes indeed. Blood gushed downward, towards the middle body. In the midst of the darkness, strangely he found pleasure, however dark the sin might be. 

"You got to pardon me, I know we have been doing it every week, but the feeling hasn't stopped at all. There's still pain between the thigh."

"It's alright, my darling. Ooh... Move your hand here..."

Gently she moved the hands that was defiled by the very act of consummation into the most delicate part of the body. As the physical touch slowly engulfed and gently support the small, well-toned and round chest, of which Solomon the King may have likewise obsessed himself with in the days of his reign - which probably led to his destruction towards the end of the empire. 

Ah, Solomon, that's right. How much descent can you probably imagine - from the height of praise of many neighbouring empire that come visit. Queen of Sheba, a prominent ruler with worldly wisdom, probably at the height of the Yemen and Ethiopian reign - thought of this gentleman king as the anointed King from the God. With all the gifts, an acknowledgment from those of the world - perhaps that gift may have turned into a knife easily penetrating through the wall of thinning willpower. The power at will to stop those that may have contaminated the soul. 

And here I am, in the middle of the night, consummated with the love act with someone that I no longer see possible to begin a family with. The only reason I would see perhaps is her beauty and her kindness towards me. And it is her beauty that allowed this consummation to slip into a terrible dream... of occasional corrosion.

----------------------------------

"What is it, my dear? You don't look too good."

Walls of birch colour, aged by the furniture and all the books around. Tilting to the left, the good ol' bass guitar laid left, as if unwanted, besides the books and all the oak-taint shelves. These books looked abandoned, in my thought, just like my guitar. And the epiphany came. All the things on the left seems unwanted, left behind. Is that the reason why I am on the left side of the bed?

"Do you want some tea dear? You seem quite quaint with the surrounding."

To my right, everything seems right. Brighter side of the room, perhaps. Also, more relics of collection from various parts of my current girlfriend's life. My current girlfriend, with that jovial look, as usual - and a little dose of teenage cuteness akin to those that enjoyed the company of High School Musical dream. I took a quick peak at the shirt that she is wearing - one that I bought awhile back during my personal visit to a friend in Kuala Lumpur. "Mistakes are the reason why we should not stop trying", a graffiti replica drawn on a sunny orange, reminding me that everything will be made right in its time. Her looks tell me the same too - bright smiles and gentle eyes - the dark brown eyes that reminded me of the trunk of a Christmas tree.

What a beautiful sight - one that I remembered vividly as a young boy at the porch of my parents' house back in Malaysia. The only western connection that I had back then wasn't my education in English, nor my enthusiasm in superheroes like Batman (one that I loved a lot since a kid) - but the Christmas tree. More like because that is the first nature that responded to me when I was crying after a terrible scolding from my dad for not giving in to my sister when it comes to having my favourite bag to school. Though just entering 3rd grade, that bag meant to me like how a guitar meant to a guitarist - an identity as a student, one that I took pride in. I wasn't an excellent student in grades, but I loved the life of being able to hide in school, away from the emotional hurt I was experiencing. Surprisingly, it was that one day, in the early morning when I was getting ready to school - of which one of the Christmas tree nearest to the gate actually responded to me by tilting the top downward, as if it felt overcast by the moody night before. Not even the next one felt the same. Though eventually I grew to understand the reason behind the nodding tree (a squirrel happened to pass on this tree - and it was only that day - though I would not discount the coincidence as an act of fate of empathy), I missed the naive part of myself - that small kid who sees the world as part of God's plan for something eventually.

"It's alright dear. I can get the drink myself. I am pretty much tired with the work and all. Do you mind if I nap a while on your bed?"

"Haha, dear, of course you can. Just get yourself comfortable at home, alright?" Her assuring words, oh how gentle they are. She is so much different from my past. And why is it that I can't let go of my past? Why?

----------------------------------

I often wondered, when I wandered, with my eyes, on the settings around me, that my past will always come flooding me. They are very much a hindrance sometimes. Like there's once, when I finished talking to my spiritual mentor about the new revelation from the result of my contemplation, the dishonourable images of the past that set its foothold since the night of consummation kept creeping in, as if to remind me that the past can never be forgotten. No matter how much I tried redeeming the thought with revelation of God's eventual purposes, I can't help but remembering two extremely conflicting post-reflection. One: the fact that I have hurt a woman, who imagine that I would be with her till the end of days, turned out to be that I actually don't like the fact that she played on me once and I found it hard to trust in her. The betrayal took a deep seeded edge of me, and I start to distrust her when at the last few days of our acquaintance (even after breaking up for a year or so), that she promised to change for me. Ol' saying, "Once bitten, twice shy." I remembered the night after consummation, she answered a call angrily at her ex to say not to call and the relationship was over - and immediately on the next week, I chanced upon the SMS of the correspondence between them betraying the content of the call that I heard the week before. It took me a lot of courage (though now I thought of them as self-deceitful courage) to think that she would change - only to know few months later, she called for a break up. Just when I thought and struggle to reconcile for a year - she had a different point of view and maintained that we were together, but she wanted more liberty for her own. Such a screwed up perspective of relationship, so much so that when the time draws near for me to eventually say goodbye and found someone new, her aggression towards attracting me confused me. All the confrontation that night, surprisingly, didn't put too much emphasis to my nightmare except the consummation of love making, one forbidden fruit that I have taken, and since regretting each night. 

That point brings me to the second thought: no matter how much I tried to put a label of regret towards the consummation - of losing the innocence of something to be enjoyed within the covenant of marriage, I still couldn't forget the fleshly pleasure I felt in that consummation - and have experimented finding someone with the same body built (if not the facial similarity), just to feel the same attachment and same technique that my past exhibited. The delicate touch at the tip of the manhood felt the pleasure akin to the forbidden enjoyment of tasting thick chocolate fondue all day all night - that had never gone away. I tried with an escort - and I remembered the expression that she had, the same face I remembered seeing my first ex-girlfriend, who upon the first time I had the experience with her, showed the look of contempt and disgust, the feeling of being violated. It was at that time that I truly understood the meaning of why Paul exhorted the Corinthians to think of the body as the temple of God, and such fornication with prostitutes are like violating the sacred. Imagining the temple of God being violated with blasphemy is one thing; being degraded by the defecation of unclean animals and ungodly slaying of priests at the altar of God - that image came into me the moment I saw this poor lady. I told myself never again, but for how long?

The demonisation of this image - of the pleasure that I experienced with my past, the one after my first ex-girlfriend, had since become the harbinger of my own destruction, perhaps into the depths of sexual promiscuity. I struggled hard to find redemption, and though as of now, me and my current girlfriend abstained this act (purposes in sexual intercourse that can only be found in marriage become what we eventually found agreement in). However, every night, I couldn't differentiate between nightmare and pleasant dream anymore on this mental images, like a rewinding VCR - with the analog tape slowly degraded by the continual corroding magnetic gap. Greenish image perhaps, but what about the character? Would we age? Would the still shot of the lady on top of me continue to become a idol-worship that comes to me every night imagining the act of consummation?

----------------------------------

I wrote something like a confessional, of which I gave to my counsellor, related to this, but not on a great length. But the confession somehow summarised the feeling that I have about this episode, something that came out from a wrong decision made by self-will. The good out of the incident, though, reminded that we have freewill given, and there are good and bad decisions. Whatever road that was carved beyond depends on the road we travel.

In that journey when I passed on this confessional journal (handwritten) to my counsellor, a mental image came to me, something that I wasn't expecting. The demonisation of my thought may have eroded my sense, but surprisingly I became more aware of the artistic side of me - the one that writes and speaks. And all along I have thought (with the affirmation of my cell group mates) that I couldn't write or articulate or describe things well, that I am better off just stick to what I have been conditioned to know best - the sound engineering. In that mental images, flicking almost like still shot with narrations running along those slides - I see the potential of telling these stories in snippets, making them novels and writing to people to let them find a connection. Somehow, pictures of my first girlfriend, my second girlfriend (she has since found a husband and expecting their first child - someone close to both of us told me about it, I have not been able to link up with her because we chose to sever the ties) and my third and current girlfriend came in, with bits and pieces of stories that are interwoven to allow this articulative mind to weave them in series of blogs and conversations - ironically a means to find healing and eventually reasons in them. Though rather difficult to reproduce these reflections in papers (or e-paper, for instance in this blog), somehow they drew me closer to God. Strangely, first girlfriend taught me the meaning of community and accountability, that I never walked alone in the struggles. The second girlfriend taught me the meaning of walking in solitude with God and coming back to Him, in torn and broken tunic once beautifully dressed by those who sewn for me during the recovery after my first girlfriend - just like the prodigal Son. I often wondered what is left for the third - and in the reflection during my retreat, I found that the journey not only meant for the prodigal Son, but the beckoning of the elder son to come forward and receive him too. Incidentally she is raised a Catholic - and she is on a journey to understand her faith too - something that is perhaps part of my responsibility to guide her. 

Every night, after waking up from the dream of consummation, I often wondered where is left for my soul to hide. When I looked out of the window, I saw the reflection of myself, the dirty face with scars of regrets and wrongdoings that I had been trying to redeem myself. Perhaps the strange timing of breaking dawn did the trick on the face that I saw on the window, but it was always the right side of the face that I saw reflecting back from the window, with the glowing sun rays laying rest upon the pimple-scars on my right cheek. It might have meant little to others, but I thought the image to be rather emblematic - resembling the face of God - shattered and brutalised, with blood stained on the cheek, the same cheek that Judas may have kissed as a token of betrayal. That face, perhaps, above all - is the face most likely speaks of the heart of God when He sees humanity in this state of bewildered though deliberate corruption - utter sorrow and sorry that he made humanity. But in the sadness of God, He didn't choose to see us as condemned, but as a potential work of salvation, and when the little strings of sun ray leaked on the forehead as I looked towards the window reflection - that it came to me - Jesus allowed humiliation as part of the redemption in a form of wearing the worldly crown, with thorns and bushes - which initially was meant for mockery - to let us see the utter deceit of chasing the dream that we tried to build, like what C. S. Lewis mentioned, paraphrased, "God is willing to give us the pleasures and gifts of heaven, and we are stuck in enjoying playing in the pool of mud." 

Perhaps this dream of mine, of finding this same pleasure that I first built with my second girlfriend, is the sick crown I have been seeking to find, but this image becomes emblematic for me as a proclamation against sexual immorality. Perhaps, and for a long time, I wished I could cry the tears of desolation. Desolation of self, of how pathetic I have become, and wishing that one day, this demonisation will eventually not take any effect to me anymore, such that when the image comes back in a distant future, it has no foothold on me any longer. Perhaps. But when will that be, that remains a question I suppose. For now, I probably should start with a prayer... right?

[Journal]: Day Ten - Gift of Paradox

I never fully appreciate the gift of 'otherwise' at times, especially when in the worldly standard, you woud expect yourself to sip into the 'common sense' decisions. For example, it is absurd to think that of all job to choose from, the main criteria in searching for a job is to 'experience humility and constant reminder of things that matter more than productivity and efficiency'. Not many companies appreciate that you 'keep stock on things that matters more', and even if you do, like visiting your ailing parents or whoever that matters more to you - those days will be pretty much limited, and you might be bogged down by constant request to 'get things done'. Naturally, while I was working hard for the company, I have a very high expectation of the same from my subordinate, like having their phones regularly on and ready so that when I call them, they don't find it off-guard, and so on. Sometimes, when they are unable to perform to the level of expectation that I have, in months trying to gear them up as, I would silently lament on their inefficiency.

However, after resting for these few days, and being silently retreating along the coast of Singapore (northern coast most of the time), there's a deep sense of understanding about life of which I could only wish that I could spend time with my close friends and tell them of my reflections. Though initially hard to articulate them, nevertheless it's important that first draft of my thoughts are penned down, and so developing into more mature draft.

 

[Journal]: Day Ten - Forgiveness in Public

A short note. Perhaps I would write more than that later.

But I chanced upon a Youtube link, and thought it might be good to put this up. 
I have always admired Robert Downey Jr, partly because of his acting skill, and partly because of his bouncing-back-from-the-past history. 

Somehow, this video warmed my heart because of the fact that he implored his colleagues to forgive his friend, Mel Gibson - a testament of faith (Mel's a Catholic). In my heart, though I truly understood Mel as someone fallen from grace, the fact that he did one thing right - to help Robert Downey Jr, was the testimony that is enough to prove that his faith has his rewards in due time.

Like what Robert says in this clip, "He probably won't even know that the next person (that I would thank for to have all the accolades today) is him (Mel Gibson)".

All smiles as I start of today, the day ten of my retreat. 

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AAJuynxnTQ]

[Journal]: Day 4 - Reflection of 'Higher Ground' by Vera Farmiga

Perhaps I should put this upfront and straight - I really missed the days when my faith are ascertain, and that I am very sure that Lord is with me. 

And I am very sad - that I lived through days of horror and anger and bewilderment, and also several days of which I doubt even my own faith. And when I saw this movie - the poignancy almost took my life literally. I almost felt like jumping off the building, as much as I want - to see if God really sees that I matter to Him.

In wilderness I found myself just a door - as shut, and like what C. S. Lewis said, even the silence emphatised with my predicament, so why I should stay put there?

I cried, mainly because I have only myself to blame.

I yearned for attention, and attention got to me. I got a great girlfriend, with her friends and her family continually support me. So why do I indulge, at many days, promiscuity, and things that are not supposed to be? Why am I yearning for attention that much? 

I yearned for affluent living, and here I am, with all the money that I have gathered and saved now that I am more ready to contribute to society with my better living, so why did I live wayward, seeking things that are forbidden? Pubs, bad company... and plenty other stuff. 

I yearned for honest living, that every now and then, I see my dear beloved without feeling contaminated and frustrated. So why did I still see dirt in my own flesh, the indulgence?

WHY GOD DO I GO THROUGH THESE SINFUL THOUGHTS, AS IF I AM STILL THE SCREWED UP GUY?!

I don't know. I often prayed long and hard, that someone listened to me. For a year, I wandered in my own, because no one really listened. They just talked and talked and talked. They never really listened to what I have in mind. And Father... why is it that people tend to see this act as someone who is akin to a delinquent kid? Why?

I am not too sure, but I don't want to leave God out of my life. He really did bless me when times are bad - with good friends, good church, good pastor, good people around. I am just saddened by my own sinfulness, my own guilt and shame. Can I still be saved from the depths of dirt that I have succumbed myself to?

Father... 

[Journal]: Day Four - The Beast Within Me, really?

One of the many passions that I used to have back when I was as available as a third-year undergraduate imposing self-retreat in my small hostel - is the luxury of freedom in indulging various hobbies that I used to dream of having during childhood and teenage-hood. When I have the luxury of time, I usually amused myself into 2 things: watching movies (good and bad) or listening to music. Of course, in the later part of my life I started to realize in the strength of playing music as well - but during those days when I don't have the skill set in place, I guess movie watching became integral part of my life. I won't say to the effect that the movie watching is inspiring (especially when most of the time I watched movies with mature contents, of which some of them if left without supervision of someone mature, tend to led us away from the truth in the proper context. With this in mind I often wondered if much of my immaturity in appreciating those movies came from the vibe of trend rather than an interest in seeking the truth within the movie. 

For example, back in those days of mine, I have a few room mates (of which one eventually committed suicide the year after) that often inspired me to watch heavy metal concerts on Youtube. Introducing bands like Slayer, Megadeth, Anthrax, Children of Bodom started my curiosity into what went into their mind when they wrote extremely Satanic and depressing songs. I don't remember many of them now - after so many years of leaving them behind, but one particular event excited me - as the one very close to me during that year happened to be a strong fan of both Metallica and Slayer. Of course, with the current vibe - it is hard to imagine that true hardcore fans of Slayer would totally alienate the fans of Metallica, of whom several claimed to have 'sold out' to the pop mainstream culture. 

There's a period of time that I started to appreciate 'Angel of Death' after being continuous told to listen and appreciate the lyrical content and the Satanic devil '5th' on each end-of-bar of the chromatic scales, and as I started liking the groove, I was painfully disturbed by my inconsistency as both a Christian and a heavy-metal lover. It was in that context that I was exposed to 'Some Kind of Monster' documentary by Metallica. 

Strangely the chance encounter with the documentary happened to be miraculously coincidental. I was prowling through the shopping complex in Orchard Road one day (having the luxury of freedom of course), when this particular movie caught my attention. Back then, I was quite distasteful about Metallica, knowing that they are a bunch of sell-out (and I couldn't appreciate listening to St. Anger too). Roaming through Borders in Singapore (back when it thrived in Singapore - you could see many British and Americans frequented this place), I saw this book 'This Monster Lives', a book written by Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky, at that time notoriously (or 'philantrophically' known if that's the right word to describe - as the filmmaker of 'Paradise Lost', of which these directors were proponent against accusation of 3 teenagers wildly speculated in the Murder case of West Memphis 3). One particular scene caught my attention - of which Dave Mustaine, the former guitarist of Metallica, who went on to become the influential figure in Megadeth, sought reconciliation with Lars Ulrich, the drummer and the founding member of Metallica), especially when James Hetfield (the guitarist of Metallica) went for his AA treatment.

After heavy read up post-visitation in Borders, (Wikipedia and etc), I realized that many claimed that Dave Mustaine has become a Christian of recent (that was 2007) and that he actually did claim that if the band mates were to actually force him to go AA instead of firing him, he would have gone. The word 'Christian' became strangely out-of-place, yet poignantly reflect the state of my spiritual health back then. I often asked, 'Where is God in the midst of my indulgence?', and apparently, it seemed that God mysteriously used the circumstances of my indulgence to bring Himself back in the picture. 

Couple of weeks later, I bought myself the movie, and since then I have yet to regret getting it. Poignant scenes of tender love from James towards not just his band mates, but also his wife and his daughter (one particular scene of having him rushing over after his work at the studio to see his daughter dancing ballet - to thrash metal lover that scene is obscene - but why not? come to think of it, the love for his daughter allowed him the 'humiliation' as a metal lover to laugh with joy at the success of the gentle movement of a ballet dance by his daughter, and why shouldn't we all?). Besides, his reconciliation with band mates brought the image of 'heavy metal' to a more humanistic approach. Though none of the scene clearly depict anything close to what Christians should exhibit, somehow the act of reconciliation itself reminded me of brotherhood love and all the friendship that I had back when I was in active serving to God within my Christian circle. Although it may take several days to reflect onto them again, I am pretty sure if you browsed through those days written in my previous blog post (from mid-2006 till mid-2007), you would be able to appreciate the buoyant thought I exhibit during that time. 

Now, after writing in such length of the previous context to where I presently am now, I felt that it is vital that I should always looked at those past of mine in order to appreciate where I am at present, and what I should avoid making mistakes in. As for now, indulgence in heavy metal music has mostly become a personal pastime, and my only time in indulging them would be mainly during jogging days (when you need a fast song to jog for many clicks to ignore the lethargy that comes along with it). Other than that, mainly I have listened to good ol' rock and roll from Texas, LA, Memphis country rock and nice New Orleans' jazz mix. Strangely time has evolved me to the degree that even my musical inclination has changed and evolved my guitar playing as well. 

However, even with all these influences slowly gnawing away from the grip, my deep rooted resent towards societal conformity somehow still stayed within me, much to my distaste. Though subtle, I think there's still a part of me that yearns for anarchy (in very much different way now) - especially when it comes to work ethics and all those that matters to me. I have yet to see what will the end result during this one month break for me will be for me (and even if there's no result in the solitude attempt), I do hope that I find and discover more about the meaning in life.

Perhaps I will end this blog with a question for myself, and all you readers to reflect upon: as much as my writings reveal the state of confusion I have as a personal being, what are the things that sometimes lead to your confusion and how often are you able to reconcile your confusion with a resolution?