Today dear daryl made me buy an SS textbook and deliver it to him cause apparently the rest of singapore has run out of stock, whereas my school's bookshop has a neat little pile of these purple books just sitting around and not doing much. I mean, theyre books after all.
I found the most adorable picture of a CERTAIN redcrosser doing smth (totally not scandalous) on sarah T's blog. Must rip it.
Looking forward to shakespeare in love tomorrow, despite the many *ahem* bad things that may come with it. I will ignore them, as suggested, and just enjoy the play.
Got my sec one results back. Kinda topped the level or smth for english, the rest are ok. Only failed 2 subs this time, so thats good. I'm SORRY OK but only failing 2 subs is good for a peabrain like me. And not just any kinda pea ok, but a teeny-weeny-tiny-greeny pea.
For some odd reason, I feel caught at some form of crossroads, stuck between the 2 realms of reality and imagination. I wonder if its too much midsummers night dream?
I really dont know. I'm just kinda stuck, inside my own murky bubble as the rest of the world spins around and past me in fast-forward. We can communicate, talk and laugh and everything, they can get in my bubble and sit with me and watch the world, but I can't get out, I have to stay in the bubble's murky swirling depths. The bubble is situated at a crossroads, and there are steams of people going off in the 4 directions, and I feel that once I get out of the bubble, I can't just stand there, but I have to choose, but I dont want to. From inside my sphere I can see in all 4 directions, and I can see to the very end of the road. If life were a path, from where I am I can stand up and see the dead end where I meet my maker, whoever he turns out to be.
I dont want to choose just yet, but I want to get out of that bubble. I want to stand at the crossroads and talk to people, and whirl them around before sending them on their way. Maybe thats where I'll live out my life, and I'll be the crazy girl at the crossroads who knows everybody but no one can ever remember her name. I dont know. With all these things going on around me, I should feel horrible elated, joyous, insanely happy, but I dont. I'm just kind of quietly contented, almost evilly. I mean, its like, how do you describe feeling that theres not much left to be done but write your last memoirs? how do you describe singing in church and wishing fervently that you could believe as whole heartedly as you used to barely a year ago? how do you say that you know God's left you and he wont be coming back till everythings been set right?how do you talk about knowing youre going to die?
I dont know much anymore. I used to think I knew everything, but it turns out I dont know very much all at. All I know cant be put into words, so whats the use? Its like having seen, for a split second, how big you could be, yet at the same time, how tiny you really are, the enourmousity of infinity, and in that second, glimpsing the God-given truth. The truth.
And the only thing that resounds in my head, and perhaps my heart, is that single thing
Son of man, can these bones live?
