theracie.tumblr.com

Once discovering Tumblr, I realised that it provided an easy-to-use platform for what I had been doing all along.

That is why I opened a new account today.

I will now be microblogging over here for short entries. Ie, things like photographs I like and minor, trivial musings. I refuse to go over to Twitter. (Not yet, anyway.)

This blog will stay for the longer entries. (: I love this place too much to leave.

P/S: For those who use Google Reader, you can now start a new subscription. YAY!

biblegateway’s verse of the day

This was the very verse that rang repeatedly in my mind during Sat’s service.

my cg took neoprints without me!

I received the following smses from the brothers in NYCB1 yesterday night.

We kena bully by sisters!
- XXX XXX XXX

We want to cry already.
- XXX XXXX

We no more face already. T.T
- XXXXXXX

I really couldn’t stop laughing. Oh well. Good job, sisters of B1! (:

And I heard they trooped off to play L4D afterward. Wah, all of you are cooler than me. HAHA.

blaaaaack sheep

What a rollercoaster ride it has been this week.

lose, losing, lost.

Chermaine posted this lovely poem that I recall doing practical criticism on during JC lit. (I misssssss studying literature and run-on lines and the use of capitalization.)

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- Elizabeth Bishop

paddle pop

This is very true. Don’t we have the nasty habit of walking around in our ‘kitchens’?

This happens when we get trapped into our little village of NTU and we find ourselves being consumed by the deluge of deadlines. And it seems as though school is all there is to our pitiful lives.

I refuse to live for such an existence. It is pathetic.

Jesus, help me live for something Greater.

clinging onto a shred of hope

The mention of people dropping out of the race just made my heart grow cold today.