Stuck at 24

You Are 24 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Censor-Edit This Love

Words, actions, what we do, celebrate, obscure, or commit to can sometimes offend people even when you never intend to. Times like these I go really hard on myself. There I go my stupid mouth. Never knowing when to stop, always babbling like a stupid kid. And when the truck pulls in from the side, I get knocked over and I don't for a moment even know why something as terrible as this would happen. I am known to be adaptable - patiently indulgent even. I will protect the ones I love, fight the cause of those I have a passion for, lay down my life for those I call my brothers. But I seem to really lack in the department of survival. I am the kind that doesn't believe the lion who sleeps will attack you when awakened and will only believe when the attack takes place, on me. Some call it learning the hard way. But how can such an amiable animal be capable of such atrocity. Why am I wired such? Why? What's the purpose? What can I do to insulate myself from these death threats? But what's wrong with death threats anyway? Who can hurt me? Who has authority over my being? Only God. But these unexplainable fears encroach me like clouds over a dry northern hill. These self help books say that blind avoidance is the key to suicide. But them others say that self help books are from the devil. Who do I believe? None of these makes sense. I don't know anymore.

I woke up this morning feeling the same sick soulless feeling
I woke up angry because of you, because of how you made me feel
Under the sun we don't have much but we got this much
I don't know why but you would put the trigger to my head

Cos you said,
"Sort out your life, sort out your own mess, don't get me in trouble"
"These are the days, these are the ways go troubleshoot your own mistakes"
But I gotta go, I gotta run, cos run is all I know
I am a modern day cliche, a rich man's son for a fool

Then on the other side of town I hear of another pain
It makes we wonder that if nothing's ever new
Cos mama's got her hands full to clean up what life's served up
She hung up the phone before I could tell her how much I cared

One or the other person could have turned the other cheek
But pride comes before our knees could fall for forgiveness
We open up pandora's box but we couldn't handle the change
I don't know why that stranger would pull a trigger through his head

Love has a way of bringing you home
Love has a way of showing you what's real
Love goes around another bend, till it hurts till it breaks till it turns you around

Love has a way of taking the lead
Love has a way of changing all of your expectations
When you least expect the world to wrap its arms around you

I can't see what's on the other side
My light is flickering, dimming, losing every hope
So I walk and walk and walk away cos all I know is walk away
Can love ever take its place I guess we'll never know

Rest Easy

It's over. The rush and week long maul over digital images, shooting, intentional footage, capturing moments of this vast and rich city, then framing them, piece-ing them into a story. I caught myself saying I could do this for a job. And this could be the beginning of some madness.

The night panned out quite well. Frustrations over sound aside, we did pretty good. The charlieboy band did good. The beginning of something new, something exciting. Something prophetic. Daylight, a song for the city.

Monday was the beginning of a new work week. Well, actually a new job. Training for 5 whole weeks. Meaning I will miss hillsong conference. Which, part of me still wants to go so bad. I think the roadtrip is what does it for me. Work is work, I guess. Took two days sickie in a row. Doesn't look good. But at least I got some certification for that. Soi it should cover me legally. In which case, I am quite sick. The brain drain for the past week left my body quite in trauma and falling ill is just one method of regeneration. To rest easy. Sleep my bugs away. You know, it's the feeling of post exam stress.

Part of me don't want to turn up tomorrow for work. But that's just plain lazy. I know I am. I wish I was back last week again. What a druggie I am. I am a sucker for media. I still remember the first time I touched the analogue editing machine and had so much fun editing our seemingly cheap karaoke water and wine music video shot above some multi-storey carpark with building constructions as the backdrop. We were dressed in white shirts and jeans. We looked like wannabes. But it felt powerful. To be able to direct a vision I had in mind and putting them out visually was indeed satisfying. To work within constraints and create a plot with a storyline was challenging. Zak said it's because I am constantly pushing my boundaries. I agree. Cos I can make iMovie look so good you'd regret investing in Final Cut. Ok, that's probably exaggerating. But less is more, you'd agree?

8 years on and God is still faithful. Had an opportunity to reflect with a sister today and discovering how similar our thought patterns and faith level is. Funny how God crosses our paths. As Jin would say, the battle is about to begin. Gotta go sharpen the sword with Dad.

Brimful of Ashes

Tie me not down this kite that glides
Drain me not the words the fight
Hold this hope till morning comes
Take on the world one day at a time

Ashes fall from our heads to our hearts
Crashing into the open big blue sky
Ready to soar three two one
Burn burn burn away

A eulogy read out at the sound of night
Death becomes sleep don't wake its slumber
A new day is beginning dawn at midnight
The faithful ones harvest at the break of light

Four words, four stories, four four time stamp
Dig it deep one twenty, feel my heartbeat
Fools and madmen, great things to be
Four brothers, four more hours, dig it deeper still

Ready to go, ready to glide
Ready to take this mountain one at a time
Warriors, ready your sword, ready your cry
Ready your heart strings keep them tight

Make what you will, Lord, make it your will
Take our hands, our feet where you see fit
Let the footprints we leave breed life
Hope, love and faith for a better world

Take Down

They want to take me down, push me from the cliff, throw me down to the gutter. I stutter, struggle to find the words to speak, while these waters come crashing over me, covering me, seeking life within that's been sprouting. I reach for the waters' edge. Beneath this daylight I can see a glimmer of hope but can't make out the detail. Woe my soul is all I hear, that familiar sound, that familiar voice that once used to haunt me keeping me awake at night, going throb throb pull a start stop, gotcha throat.

I cling to my dear life, against the new steel rails I found unwittingly, till my fingers go white and purple, my teeth clenched tightly till the sides of my head begin to hurt. If only the waves would die, dry out, recede back to where it came from. Let me go! Loose your grip, unclip my wings, stop this right now! Let me go, let me go!

Who are they anyway? Someone used to say. I dream of a better world. A world without laws and bylaws that choke the original restoration of mankind. A world that doesn't penalize you when you fall short. A world that I could breathe easy, freely.

Give me sleep with peace and dreams that heal. Give me wings to fly and soar above this crowded hour. Give me rest oh my soul, lord bring my eyes your balm to renew. Restore the courage in me, a lion that fears no evil, snares nor shifting shadows. Give me wisdom of an eagle, eyes that see through the haze, hands that pushes the right chess pieces in place.

Listening Post

Probably the first time I have ever done this. To write without writing. To sing without knowing. To record without foreshadowing. His love overwhelms, this desperation cries out to give birth to a new beginning of a new sound.

Listen to The Shepherd. A lamentation, a worship, a eulogy of the old, a birthing of the new. Requires quicktime.

Or right click and download if you be of peecee descent. *snigger*

Go tell it, spread it, sync it, bit torrent, napster, P2P it. No DRM applied. Seriously.

Mess of a million questions

I'm sitting in the middle of the week wondering where my heart is and where my head has gone. I am constantly seeking answers to this new heaven I have found. This new understanding of His Kingdom is driving me to ask the difficult questions.

What used to be neat packages of theory and future promises now look like ancient myths busted beyond recognition.

Yet, the questions don't stop. Like, if we don't live under law and we live by grace then does that really really mean that we get what we don't deserve? This life, this crazy spin around. Like, what happens if tomorrow I fall, stumble and forget to spend the sacred hour, or work takes me away and I miss out on the "blessings" of congregation - will mercy be just left overs on the table, or will the spread still be fresh and warm by the night I get to it?

What if I really stuffed up and even became a heretic, immoral blaphemous prophet wannabe, will God still be with me and have mercy on me? will He still love me enough to listen and act? What if i, in a moment of haste and anger spat upon His face, His Holy face? Will fire not consume me? Even when I knowingly go against the nature of creation ... the laws that govern this universe... laws versus grace... He made the laws to protect us, but transforms us through His grace... So which side am I living?

So how will I know I am not operating and thinking all this according to the gravity of law? Even the gravity laws of grace. What goes up must come down, so if grace be the opposite of it all, then what goes up can either stay up or come down... or become something else?

When I look at my heart, my recently festered yet revived heart, I think about what could have happened. I think about how it would probably have stopped given the grave situation right now. I think about how this mercy has led me to live above this gravitational pull seeking to drag my feet into burning flames. Yet I seem to float lightly above it, just above the flames. I feel the heat but I don't get burned. But the thought that goes on in my head is how long can i stay up here. I think about the possibility of falling, crashing into the center of gravity, consumed by the fire beneath me feet.

Perhaps I should stop looking down. Perhaps I should sop looking at my sins, my inadequate strength, my disabilities and look up, strech my neck upward and raise my hands. I still do not understand how worship can lead me out of all this but my heart yearns to sit in the temple every moment. Sometimes, i escape into the third heaven breathing upon the fragrances of His love and grace. Sometimes I laugh, cry, go through my thoughts like an escape con artist. Then when i hit back home, it surfaces. The emails, the phone faxes, the unconditional demands taking on the form of reality. What is reality? I learnt it is all about perception, in which case, am i being delusional?

Something in my heart is settled. Like there is an anchor weighing me down - sitting me calmly by the river banks that threaten to overflow and consume me. I have no idea what the answer may be. But i know for sure this mercy and grace is not a result of my doing or undoing, not the fruit of my defiant indugence, but the mercy seat of God authorising the change, shift and reset. The process feels long and I have no idea what may surprise me. I only pray for His mercy, that even if I breathe my last, that I breathe my last in the house of worship, gazing into His beauty, consumed by His presence that death becomes a pleasure.

Cling not to the weight of this world. To live in grace is to have the gift of hope. To live in hope is to fan the flames of faith. To fan the flames of faith is to dwell in complete surrender and worship to our original maker. But isn't this some kind of law as well?