Spitalfield

I MUST write something to get that video down lower on the page >.< Now its making me cringe whenever I see it. It was a super spur of the moment of weakness thing. Long post coming up.

Deployment is ending and I'll return to Maju soon enough- good things must come to an end. It has been EXTENDED but that only means I'll be up in arms on Christmas. Yes, Christmas. You have no idea how much that thought darkens my heart and mind. Then again, as pessimistic as it may sound, missing Christmas isn't going to be much different from being there.

Off the side, I am no musician but seems like I've been messing up my acoustic rock (like what?) with soft rock- alright its the acoustic rock SOUND with the soft rock LYRICS. Alright maybe I am messing this up again but I wanted to find the place to slot this- so it isn't just floating around undecided. Like everything else in my life.

I am really slow to comment but the case of the first Singaporean terrorist victim really is such a pity. She was so young and full of promise, it was a stroke of misfortune- being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The terrorists used way too little logic, killing a small number of people will steel the resolve of their enemies not to give in to their demands. The deaths are more personal and targeted which incites righteous anger. To really shake the world into listening, a massive action has to be taken -like 911- maybe on a even larger scale. The loss of thousands will blur the authorities away from who and how they died to WHY, giving them reason to notice your cause and sober to the fact that you are that capable. From the moment they embarked on such a minuscule operation they were doomed to death- so why not go out with a greater bang and make yourself heard loud and proud. If you truly do not fear death.

These terrorists are such failures.

Happy Birthday Joel!! The party was a blast :) Glad you enjoyed the gift. I will write in your book, some day. The less marks one leaves, the harder it is to trace their passing.

Went for the My Hope movement on Friday, alright so it was not exactly successful since no one new was there. But it was quite fun and meaningful. Vanity of vanities all is vanity like a bubble that bursts. How much is enough if there ever is? There will never be enough. Human greed is unlimited, the very concept of enough is a stain to the hunger for more. I just hope I could have sent off the mission trip people.

To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) is an American non-profit organization which aims to present hope and find help for people struggling with problems such as depression, drug addiction, self-injury, and suicide. I had no idea that when it was founded in March 06 the person who went around promoting the movement would be so special. Their slogans include "Love is the movement" "Rescue is Possible" and "Stop the Bleeding"- I always thought it was just Love is the movement, Rescue is possible, didn't know about the third one they use at live events. Why bring this up? Because I absolutely adore their slogans- If i had a credit card I'd buy their t-shirts. Beautiful.

Flipping through other people's blogs can be quite painful.

JC was a 2 year blur, perhaps I had my eyes and mind turned in the wrong direction, not seeing all the life that was there. Reading back now, it was really happening for so many people. There were activists, singers, clubbers, the good people who still had as much life as the goth looking alcoholics, the kind, the downright nasty, the beautiful, the beauty that had to be uncovered, the handsome, the handsomeness that was just a front and so much more. I really was lucky to be in A02, it may be the most diverse class but it truly was the most absolutely amazing compound.

Are we really the sum of experiences we've had in life thus far? All these wasted years making me the person I am. Where was the fork in the road where I went down the other side? Was it my choice of CCA, fed by a pointless dream? Or was it that wasted year in secondary school? The first person I spoke to and associated with then? Or even before then- in P4? When I rejected the essence of a clique mentality? Or in P5 when I first got cable? Even further back I can't remember- was I ruined by the internet? The radio? Television? The people I met?

To be honest, I am no gamer. And no mugger. And now, not much of a reader either.

The house can get really dark in the day time. I miss (all of) you, come back soon. Mission trip, stay safe.

Quote of e Post:
What I'm looking for are the answers to why these questions never go away