Showing posts with label Dedication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dedication. Show all posts

Friday, November 5, 2010

Still Alive.

Ames, I don't mean to copy you (though it seems that I cannot help it, genius idea) but I have ready-made two dedications so far. I'm not sure whether I will fulfill the whole 30-letters-to-30-people...
thing. But here's one, and another for another blog, because I don't want to be greedy and steal all your time! Pls enjoy.

I don't know why this image was titled 'Alone'... but ohwell.
---
I remember back to a time where I once shared my devotion time in the mornings. I remember us talking about trees, and their roots, and how often-times, we are likened to these very plants. He said, and I remember so distinctly, that he imagined his state to be a young tree who was setting his foundation in the church, whose roots were beginning to firmly grasp and hold the soil in God's house...
And I remember my response, where I, on the verge of tears, said that I was struggling to break out of my seed, push through the dirt and find my way out into the light. You said it was possibly one of the hardest steps to take.

I would have to agree. At the time, though I faced the adversity that he spoke of, I could not take comfort in his words. But, having that become my past, I understand his testament. I feel that I have grown, and where he stood, I now do. It is possibly that hardest to combine our first passion with holding true to our commitment.

I think it's our initial steps when we are most wobbly - yet is is just that achievement that is the most significant in walking along God's path.

And I thank God that I have that person in my life, and that through his guidance and support, and his reflection of Love, Grace, Mercy, and Kindness from God to me, I can now continue to grow stronger and hold more firmly onto God, and flourish in His house.

PTL.

---
And back to creativity.

---
The way that crowd would roar loudly, how it would sneer in my ears. It was the very same sound that could come from a collision of metal that would grind, crumple, grate and smash at each other - like a tragic crash on the roads. They screech, yell, and bellow, and mock me. Suddenly my vision is blurred - there is not one individual that I can see; not even a single face that I can recognise; instead, I see all but a huge wave, enveloping the space around me with their ringing voices.

And it is these howls that seem to echo within the binds of my heart like a clanging bell - an ever present reminder of hollowness. It is there no matter how I fill it with noise, because, even among the loudest of clamours comes a faint reverberation of helplessness, of the inevitable stillness that I must, alone, face.

But I am still not game enough to face it. And that is why I hide myself under these noises, for they are to me like almost silence - the rain drumming on the roof; white noise that eclipses the silence that I fear.

I would much rather face being lonely alone, than in a full room with no one to face it with.

LOL, Sarah.

Friday, September 3, 2010

At The Park.

It was such a lovely day to be out in the sun. Finally! After such a long, cold and dreary winter, Vera could see the shy sun peek out from behind the clouds, to sweep her into his warm embrace once again. She let the sun stroke her bare shoulders, and whisper softly, sweetly, into her ear, “winter has passed”. As Vera breathed in the fresh breeze, her chest elated. She wanted to sing! And how the birds near her had started to sing, too! Their voices danced along with the warm breeze; the wind like a fresh whiff of perfume that flooded one’s insides with absolute joy and euphoria. The birds twittered and hummed; she felt right at home, as if she were sitting in front of her piano, her glove-adorned hands splayed out to play along with their cheerful tune. Vera really did feel something inside her bosom move – like a song longing to overflow from within. “I shall hum along with the beautiful creatures as they sing to my piano,” she declared gleefully, as she swept her hands across her lap to the right, and fluttered her fingertips at the end, just as the birds let out a pretty trill with their flutey voices.


---

Today was the perfect day to spend in the park. She had walked by the park many times –but quite hurriedly, so she would not have to spend a further minute out in the daunting cold of winter. So little happened during those few moments, where she would glance at the barren land – only ever was there one or two little creatures brave enough to venture out into the frosty terrain... It was far too cold for Vera, and too mysterious in the almost deserted unknowns of the park. However, Vera felt adventurous today, with the warmth of the sun assuring her of his supervision and comfort. And so, she had ventured into the park, eager to discover whatever that splendid morning had in mind for her…


And then she saw him, sitting on a nearby bench, peeling an orange in that strange way that she would never forget. Vera almost laughed aloud at the sight! She could succinctly remember how he would claw at the fruit, his sharp nails quickly splintering into the skin to create some sort of decorated swirl. The orange was his canvas – he would doodle all over it, skilfully and precisely dissecting the firm outer layer and scooping out the zest and fibre to reveal the tender, unspoilt fruit within. Vera had told him off the last time, to put away such radical behaviour and just to peel the poor orange as everyone else did. But his wily face would stare back into her, with that all too familiar and all too broad grin. Vera could distinctly hear his words dance around her ears as he positively shouted, “I’m my own artist!” the ladies and gentlemen in the cafĂ© around them softened their murmur to silent reproach. How he would just smile right back, and how mortified she had felt... Vera heaved a sigh. Then, as if he’d heard her, he whirled around to face her, his light face flickered so quickly into eagerness, just like a spark bursting into tongues of flame.


“Oh my, Vera!” he exclaimed, and leapt right up to greet her, taking her hand in his, “I surely didn’t expect to see you here! Having a lovely stroll in the park? Out enjoying the sun?”


“Ah, yes, the latter”, she replied, and he grinned back at her. “Would you like something to eat? An orange, maybe?” Vera declined politely, but as she tried to withdraw her hand, he clasped onto it with both of his. At that moment, a strange beast inside of her began to move. “Won’t you come and sit? Come, just for a little while!” He led her back to the bench, and she sat down alongside him – but his hands remained firmly clasped onto hers. Vera felt like her hand was hovering low over a small fire – intensely warm, but it did not burn her. Instead, its warmth seeped in through her glove, and flooded throughout her body. She felt like she had been out in the sun for a minute too long, though she had only been out for a little while.


“You see, you came at a very convenient time. I was just looking at these bright yellow bunches, just there. Can you see? They reminded me of you, and of that time when we wandered about Kew Gardens. You named for me every single flower there was… and yet, I still cannot recall this one! You know that I am quite hopeless at remembering things. See here, how I have even carved it into the skin of this fine produce…” Vera glanced towards a colourful bush just ahead them, where his inspiration lay. She leaned in a little towards the little flowers with a warm smile, and they all reached out, wanting to hold her, beaming back at her ever so brightly.


“Verbenas,” she breathed, and turned back towards him. “Mother used to have them in her garden, in a hanging basket, and whenever we went to water them, she would tell me that I was like her Verbena, beaming at her like sunshine…” Vera’s voice faded as she remembered the warmth of her mother’s embrace, and how she would never feel it again… She shivered slightly, but he did not notice. ”Oh, the tenderness of this fruit is magnificent!” He took a generous whiff from the deepest cut of the wounded fruit. “Vera, you really should try some. Its aroma is just wonderful.” He turned her hand ever so gently in his, and placed the orange in her palm. Vera felt a grimace from inside her chest creep towards the corners of her lips, but she pursed them quickly enough for him to not notice.


“No, no… it’s okay. I really do not want this.” She was almost pleading. Would he understand what she had meant?


“Ah right…” He said, taking back the orange, and letting her hand go. His eyes wandered from hers. “Oh! Look, Vera!” he said softly, but she could hear that restrained eagerness bursting from his lips. “The children!” Vera inhaled sharply, and the beast inside her began to whimper silently, but she followed his gaze towards the playground. Suddenly, a wave of jovial children, just as adventurous as she had been, swooped in towards the playground – two in particular, a sandy-coloured haired girl, and a boy whose head of curls were boundless and untamed, scampered across the dewy grass, directly towards the monkey bars.


“Don’t worry, we’re big enough now!” Vera heard a high-pitched voice sing out towards the girl. “But I’ve never been on them before!” A higher, prettier voice sang back, and Vera could almost hear a tremble of fear from within the little voice. “Don’t be a chicken, Lottie!” the boy shouted back, and so the little girl reached for the pole.


Vera watched the girl in silence, and suddenly warmth grasped at her hand once again. The strange beast inside her chest rumbled. Lottie swung once, twice… and the little tyke successfully grabbed a hold of the next bar. What an achievement! Vera felt something inside her leap in joy and relief. But as Lottie let go of the first bar to grab a hold of the next, she lost her grip, and fell onto the ground.


“Ow…” Lottie began to sob, and Vera felt a faint chill across the skin of her neck. Wasn’t it a little colder now than before? She was sure of it. She trembled slightly, but she did not move towards the crying girl.


“Oh Lottie! You weren’t meant to fall!” The little boy dashed towards Lottie’s side, and pulled out a bandaid. He dabbed at the graze on Lottie’s knee with a tissue from his pocket, and quickly covered the scratch with the bandaid. “See? All better now! Now c’mon, let’s go!” He grabbed her arm and helped Lottie back up, and they dashed away.


Vera could not get that image out of her sight. How quickly Lottie had moved on! Yet, she was sure that she heard Lottie stifle a sniff, and saw her wipe the tears from her face before running after the boy. How hard it was for her to keep up…


“Verbenas in your garden – indeed! They really are lovely little things!” Vera heard his voice break her from her trance, and his warmth left her hand. He had knelt by the flowers beneath their feet. “Your mother was right, you know. I do believe that you are much like these delightful blossoms. In any season, you resonate with such warmth and energy...” His calm face broke into a slight smile, and the strange beast began to pound at her heart. Vera gathered her hands at her bosom, and pressed hard against it.


“Yes… you must be the only one in the world of whom I know nothing can take away that fire inside of you.” He snapped off a cluster of verbena from the bush and twirled it between his fingers. Vera stood up.


“You’re going already? But you must stay a little while longer!” He held tightly both the bunch of flowers and the carved orange in his hands, and Vera pressed even harder at the strange beast’s beating at her heart. The orange’s juice began to drip from its incisions.


“I really must go. I’m sorry,” she gave him a smile that did not hold. At that moment, she was even sorry that she had entered the park at all…


“Surely I will see you again soon?” His voice sang of such hope, and yet, such dreamy vagueness. Vera could no longer stand it. “Perhaps… but perhaps not.”


---

The sun had drawn back behind the safety of the clouds, and the winds picked up, silencing all the flora and fauna from singing any more. Still, he did not hear her last words. He placed the bleeding orange on the bench, and he hovered his dripping hand over the bushy flora, where he had removed the cluster of verbena. He loosened his suffocating grip on the isolated plant; its vibrancy had already begun to fade.

---

Finally, the story I was talking about. I got an A+! YAY! My teachers loved it (: But.. I think they liked the reflective commentary more.. bummer x]


And thus begins the final sprint. A close other has my password for Facebook, and I vow to be absent from MSN for the coming days, until my focus can turn away from study. I dedicate this to You, God, for I know in You, I have the strength to carry on. Continue to shed Your light upon my path; may I see You in everything around me, and when everything overwhelms, I know that You are God.


Blogspot will be my hangout space (:


PTL, Sarah.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Alluring Reminisce.

Hello. (:

Be eagerly anticipatory of my story, of which I will post soon.... No, I'll be generous. Make that two stories, because I am guilt-ridden for my unexplained near-one-month absence.
There is no excuse, but there are reasons which I can only give with a slight grimace, but I'll smile it out.

Year 12.
It really is the most overwhelming breath of reality I have experienced so far.

Pray for me, please? I cannot go on without Him.

It is a mediocre post today. Significant to one. That one is perhaps only me, though there are two addressed here. I do not mean for it to be sad, for I am only filled with love for my past, which has weathered me away to who I am today. I hope you enjoy the style, if nothing else.

---
"To: Doofus
From: Awesome
"

I closed my eyes, and imagined. Well - I tried to imagine anyway. There is only so much I can work with. All I have left are tiny fragments, but I feel that I have been robbed of all the adjoining pieces, left only with tattered, confusing pieces that I just do not understand. You know, I probably did understand once... it feels like a lifetime ago now. But now, I just can't connect anything together. I can remember nothing.

And yet there is this empty feeling. It's as if I should have something there - almost as if you should be there, but that is just silly, because you're not. Nevertheless, this is it: the feel is like a room, windswept, papers scattered everywhere, but everything is deafeningly silent and dangerously still. With it, the wind stole my memories of you.

But I have dug up some sort of creature - it's not real of course, only a stuffed animal. It sees with no eyes, has a large tummy with no food. It is strangely reminiscent of my birthday. Yes. I think you gave that to me as a present. Praise the heavens that I remember something, I suppose. Oh- and with it came a card from you. Of course; how could I forget? Our mutual yet pointless obsession of a colour; it adorned the otherwise naked envelope... its contents really were naked too. I definitely believe this is true, even now: that I heard you laugh when I opened it.

But I can't seem to remember that strange sound, that laugh of yours, despite the acoustics of this room I'm in. I should be hearing something - I'm straining to hear something. But nothing is there. Even the faint echo of your voice is nowhere to be found.

And what are these figments of my imagination? They are bountiful and boundless. I've looked at so many; and they are all so incomplete... and yet, my mind is completely covered. They portray a face- or rather, various facets that, if correctly placed, may perhaps reveal the slight resemblance of a face. Essentially, they all make up one thing, but I cannot grasp the product of all these fallen fragments of information. They are useless to me... but they aren't meant to. They are here for a reason... but for what? It is a question I am unable to answer.

Nonetheless. They must be here for a purpose. You, after all, were in my life for a purpose. And memories of you, as disintegrated they may seem, and as emptied as I am of them, there are pieces- very small, very insignificant pieces, that remind me of that something in you that even a fool is smart enough to treasure.

So, I bid you fare-thee-well, and I leave you on good-graces. May whatever these segments of what seem to only point to you stay or go as they please - perhaps carried away - or otherwise, left in this room as that one reminder that you were once significant in my life.

Take care, and I wish you love from here, to wherever you are now.

LOL, Sarah.

Monday, April 19, 2010

'Ad Infinitum'; Faithfulness.

You made me smile today, and I suppose I've regretted even having you in my life. Gosh, you mean a lot more to me than even I thought. I really enjoy your presence.

And I suppose, all jokes aside, all those quirky rumours and enstranged truths aside... I'm really blessed to have you. I don't really thank you enough.

Because to me, you almost seemed like the sun, beaming upon me and enveloping me in your instant warmth, and sheltering me from all the rain and the hail that had been so wickedly sneering at me these past few weeks. Even the brightness of your rays seized the winds' howls, and sent them whimpering back into the dark mists above.

And yet, could I be less grateful? For I know in my heart of hearts, that I have not been satisfied with what I've been craving - selfishly, of course, and only partly by necessity, because I know, and everyone knows, that we cannot travel the world alone. Deservedly, we should, and I believe that with intense severity... but we aren't.

And to have this reveled upon me; the clouds, rolling back even a small portion of its wispy puffs, to reveal even a glimpse of His goodness through you. You may not believe it yourself, but I'm seeing it as a highlight, and I can no longer take you for granted.

If you read this, I wouldn't mind. If you don't, I still wouldn't mind. The heart of it is that you're a very good friend of mine, and perhaps in yours I am not inside that same framework, but nonetheless. You don't deserve any less.

---
I do really fear slipping back into fixed habits; disheveled and unorganised... not only in the exterior world but in mine own (ha, old English will be the death of me). Within my little, insignificant mind, I fear my attitude may fade, and my confidence will falter. And these fears are not without its doubts. I know I will.

But I know my God will rescue me.

LOL, Sarah.
Well, I've really begun to go overboard with these pictures ><" I love them though!! (: I mean, look at the sun peeking in the clouds! It's wonderful! With no credit to me of course :p