meeseow

My resolve, so strong a week ago, is starting to fail me.

This tyre be deflatin'.

It's true that God makes His love felt through those around you.

He's shown me my weaknesses and that He pulls me through.

The road ahead glistens
Wet with the rain whose warm fragrance
Lingers, like the scent of a grand lady
On the black asphalt;
and in the darkness it snakes away
Beckoning me to follow
But as I tread its stony scales
The treacherous mamba rears its head
Hissing through a catapult tongue
Onyx eyes unblinking
Poised to push its poison through
Needling teeth, into my throat
Alarmed, I falter;
Then a car's dim headlights
In soft yellow circles
Like glowing embers in a
Dying hearth
Herald the motor's low purr
The mamba retreats, the night closes in
And the road is a road once more.

I promised myself a few weeks ago that I would make it a point to write every day. Prose, poetry, even a short descriptive paragraph, on any topic that came to mind at that moment. Clearly my resolve has failed in these past twenty days; but I shall start today, and I shall display these juicy snippets here, for all to see and criticise.

Eleven-hour work days are starting to nibble at the edges of my strength, which already lies as if stretched from corner to corner of a wooden table. Assignments and course deadlines wobble precariously at the top of the pile, threatening to come crashing down should I fail to serve out a sizeable slice of my time to each one.

And now another tutorial beckons. I must finish it tonight so that I may devote my time at the office to work: that faithful spouse who currently sits, patiently waiting though sadly neglected, waiting to be done (haha!).

I leave you with this excellent essay by George Orwell:

http://orwell.ru/library/essays/politics/english/e_polit

as well as a brilliant piece of writing by none other than the eminent, drug-addled Charles Ludwidge Dodgson:

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

And I forgot to add in my earlier post: four years of university life have shown me that I know absolutely nothing.

I just re-read my posts on Antwerp and my room there. I can hardly believe it's been over a year since, or that I will be back to visit in about 9 days (thanks for the reminder B) (I'm sure B doesn't read this anymore)- insanely excited.

I'm in my second-final week of my final year of law school. Approximately 1,300 days of my life have flown by and I don't even know where they've gone. To be honest, I don't think I've learned that much from my courses here; I do know, however, that I now have a firm belief in what it means to be a lawyer.

I entered law school thinking that I knew everything. Most clear to me was that justice and integrity in the legal profession were myths believed only by the most naive. It is fashionable for law students, at least in Singapore, to dismiss ideals and passion in favour of 'being realistic'. Walk down our whitewashed corridors and eavesdrop on some second-years' conversations. Chances are, snippets of whingeing about the 'uselessness' of public law will reach your shell-like ear. Rights, justice, protection- these words are hardly part of the Singaporean law student's vocabulary. At the time, I joined in the collective nose-thumbing at such foolishness. After all, we were students of the law. We were the elite, the intellectually blessed; we knew better than everyone else.

Now that four years have passed, I see that every lawyer is called to justice and righteousness. Every day, we deal with countless facets of human wickedness and misery. We have been equipped with the tools to help; let us not turn our tools to an evil trade.

"He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing."-- Deuteronomy 10:18

“Because I think my effectiveness depends on whether I can make a contribution in terms of analysing a problem and telling them that these are the priorities or that is the way of doing it, or whatever. If they accept it, and they find me useful, okay, I carry on. If after some time they say, ‘Look, what you are saying is absolute rubbish,’ then you just hang up your gloves and call it a day.” – Dr Goh Keng Swee (1982)

Musing.

Can I?

sian... I have chilblains

Being thrust into a totally alien environment has forced me to become more aware of my identity. I often wonder what it is that makes me me. When around new people, I feel the need to rein in parts of my personality just because I know not everyone can understand/appreciate it, and sometimes I feel as though those parts of me are rapidly eroding away.

Despite that, today while in the school bookshop I had a mini epiphany of sorts (don't you love the multiple qualifications); there is a part of me, deep down in the very core of my being, that is locked away safe and sound and that no one can ever touch or change, hugging me tightly like a secret that wild horses couldn't drag out of me.

~~

Anyway, an update on the London saga: yesterday, the day I was due to come back, there was a train crash in Belgium on the same line as the one I would have taken had I actually gone to London. 18 fatalities, trains cancelled for the rest of the day. Thank God for keeping me here in Antwerp (and Maastrich).