Jehovah Jireh
My provider
His grace is sufficient
For me, for me, for me
Jehovah Jireh
My provider
His grace is sufficient for me

My God shall supply all my needs
According to his riches and glory
He will give His angels
Charge over me
Jehovah Jireh cares
For me, for me, for me
Jehovah Jireh cares for me

i have figured out my next step :) it was so sudden… like i was standing out in my small balcony and singing ‘jehovah jireh’ softly to myself, said a small prayer, and then it hit me. now i just have to finish my exams and let god do the rest. amen.

i love balconies. those balconies with open air roofs where you can lounge about, the ones you see in hk dramas so very often. i wish i didn’t remember the party on the rooftop of the guesthouse in khao lak though, even if the moon was gorgeous that night.

anyway, yesterday was kinda horrible (and i got one of those breathing attacks again - this time i tore down part of my curtains T_T). i am so thankful for my cousin who is actually sampat enough to ask what happened. we’re not exactly close but i think we share a bond that we don’t feel with the rest of the cousins (not that i have many but still) :) i love you cuz!!

regarding these two people, i think i’ve resolved the issues. hollie was the second one i referred to, and after what happened last night the only person i wanted to speak with really badly was her. i remember meeting her in philosophy class and was rather apprehensive. she’s a hot blonde who just looks at you and you can literally feel her stares boring into you. which is more than a little intimidating. beautiful and shy hollie. we’ve become best friends throughout the year and the person i miss most from canada has to be her. she doesn’t speak much, and may not know what to say regarding my numerous complicated situations, but she’s always there with a listening ear and a heart and i love her so much for that. she can always count on me to be honest, and i can always count on her to be there for me. despite all my whinings. i’m sorry for the outburst babe, you know i’ll always love you despite your irregularities like your asian fetish haha :P

my god shall supply all my needs according to his riches and glory. he will give his angels charge over me. jehovah jireh cares for me, for me, for me. jehovah jireh cares for me.

:D

Today I called someone silly, but indeed, sometimes ignorance really is bliss. It scares me how much I’ll do to find out certain things, but in the end what I really find out is that I shouldn’t have let my curiosity get the better of me. Now it feels like I’m being weighed down with too many secrets. Yet, like I quoted from the comic Conan the Detective, A secret makes a woman woman. It might have been a joke because both of us love Conan, but I think there really is some truth to that statement. I do have many secrets, and perhaps it makes me more interesting, perhaps it makes me more mysterious, but perhaps it makes me more insecure as well.

Now I fully understand what it means to be fully helpless, to be totally reliant on His will, to depend on Him. Although yesterday I still lamented that I couldn’t feel His presence and I knew that I was being honest, it’s been so much better since then. Praise the Lord, really, for You work in miraculous ways.

His verbosity versus my ‘quality > quantity’, his usage of fancy words versus my ’short, sweet and succinct’… How different we are, yet how similar we can be. I can’t compare things, as I found out during my exam today. Two things are too disparate and have too much of their own flavours that to compare them would be to commit the folly of overgeneralisation and depreciate their values. So much for the lack of verbosity.

Happiness is what we can find in a a silver spoon and while it teeters on the edge of spilling out, we know that we can grasp it so long as we try hard enough. I like happiness because it brings warmth and comfort. But happiness is a self-delusion if we think too much, and only a genuine state of mind if we don’t think at all.

In some sense yes, perhaps beauty is personified only by suffering, hurt and pain. So does that mean we choose to be either happy or beautiful? Some people spend all their lives wishing they were beautiful, letting their happiness leak away from their fingertips. Some people spend all their lives wishing they were happy, and the beauty drains out of their faces. It’s choosing between the lesser of two evils. If neither beauty nor happiness can bring us contentment, does that make ugliness and unhappiness a more feasible state to regress to?

Opportunity cost. If the opportunity cost of beauty is happiness, then which brings greater utility? According to the diminishing law of marginal utility, too much beauty will give us less utility, less happiness. We contemplate whether utility is happiness. If too much happiness brings us less utility, but utility = happiness, then we are faced with a paradox too complicated to decipher.

Moral of the story: life is a huge paradox. Then there’s probably no point living, because a paradox is a trap - the left will lead to the right, and the front will lead to the back, and ultimately we realise we have not moved one step from where we were standing in the beginning.

My happiness is derived from a state of alienation - but a serene tranquil type, not one of loneliness and desertion. Yet my happiness is not complete without you. There’s acid biting away at my insides with every pang, every yearn, every desire. It’s wrong to miss you, the voice in my head says, it’s wrong to try to cling on to every little bit of you I have left, especially what I did to you. I haven’t been meaning to miss you, truly.

Every time I tread the line, there’re invisible nylon threads pulling me back into the undisturbed state of solitude. It is this stable form that encompasses me into the vacuum and it is here that we can examine the science of love under our bell-jars - undisturbed and free from turbulence. But can I really treat my heart like a specimen, with the microscope light glaring it in the face? I cannot explain why I love you, but I do, I do, I do. Yet I do not have the right to, nor do I want to.

There’s no way being rational about this, I can feel myself falling and falling into a bottomless abyss and yet I consciously make no effort to hang onto the crevices. I do not wish to melodramatise this, but perhaps I think better in extremes. I’ve always attempted to arrange my life in straight lines, employ cost-benefit analysis for everything, but sometimes scientific and mathematical methods fall short of quantifying it.

I am not worth the love, the cherishing, the treasuring, simply because I am lacking in decision, in faith, and in trust - but the beauty of everything is that God is still there assigning value to the worthless.

As much as we forget people, they never becoming a passing cloud, much less this special person. I’ve always felt a connection from the very beginning, and was intrigued in the most bizarre way in the beginning. It is funny looking back on that, because I have forgotten. And yet when someone makes a conscious decision to leave your life, there’s nothing you can do about it. It just feels awfully empty, a huge part of yourself discarded in the storm outside, with the rain pelting you, the thunder shouting at you and the wind striking you into the very depth of your bones. I’ve been both the discarder and the discardee, and the former hurts more, really.

I would say “save me”, but I don’t think I want to. Happiness is really what you make of it, and if I have happiness in missing you and waiting for you, so be it.

When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him; and you are torn by the thought of the unhappiness and night you cast, by the mere fact of living, in the hearts you encounter.
- Albert Camus