{Death: I'm sure we all know what this is, no need for definitions }

{Morbid: according to Wikipedia, it is a diseased state, poor health or disability}

{Taboo: strong social prohibition}

And for as long as life has been,
Death=Morbid=Taboo

We shy away from the topic of death.
We shudder at the thought of it.
At the mention of death, a chill is sent down our spine.

And Death is followed by Memories. Good, bad, forgettable?.......take your pick.

Up to 10 years ago, memories of the dead would pretty much, only be read out during private memorials, maybe shared with the 'next generations', and thats about it. Even if the Late was an evil, hardly many would know.
But today, there's facebook, and twitter and blogs and whatever web based applications. The comments would be all across the world in seconds!

How would you like your memorial to sound like? What last comments would you like the world to see on your page?

Today, 18th June 2010 @ 3.2o pm

At the roadside stall, the pak cik exclaimed loudly that yet another accident took one too many lives from the same family. I didn't much think of it. After all, there's just too many accidents happening every day!

After cg, on the way home @10+ pm

A friend was commenting about the same accident. The world became smaller, or so it seemed. It was his friend's, friend's family.

After cg, at home on facebook@ 11pm

A friends page. The same accident. But this time, time seemed to skip a beat. The world is brought even closer. My good friend lost his friend. God brought him Home.

A moment later,

Another friend's page. Again the same accident. Now my world seems to have shrunk so small, how did God put so many people I know, to know that same family, or specifically that one person? If the heart had a trigger button, someone had set it to trigger the crash button right about now.
I didn't need to know the person to feel this way. Just the fact that many of my friends lost their friend is enough to make me sad. The biggest impact probably had to be that my friend, whom I'd gotten to know better during form 6 years, SHE, lost the shoulder she could cry on, lost the hug she could receive, lost the warmth of love she gave and received.

To you my dear friend, be strong, be very strong. He would have wanted that of you too. And know that even if we do not know why it happened, God did not cause it. But HE allowed it and HE knows what HE's allowing. There is a reason for everything, one day HE would make it known to us too.

Don't give up on life, don't give up on God!

Praise the Lord because my God answer's prayers!

Now I know pure JOY!
**************************************
The months of praying,
The buckets of tears.

The crushing thoughts,
Self condemnation.

**************************************
Really, I am my worst critic. Most of us are ain't it so? From the moment I answered the first question during the interview, my critic-self was telling me 'great, you're doomed! you're so not gonna pass this'. Obviously I didn't do that well during interview. I mostly couldn't answer the question, and gave little 'smart' answers that really just showed them lecturers that I'm probably one of those with a hollow head who thinks they're the best anyway. (eg. dumb blondes, or in this case just another dumb black) They asked me why I wanted to do this course? I didn't know why. All the time I've been thinking while preparing for the interview, I couldn't answer that too.

Then the months of waiting, thus my previous posts. Wait, wait and wait some more. All the 'what're you doing now?/ i thought you wanted to do this?/eh, i heard you're gonna go somewhere?'. Definitely not helping either. I know, I don't blame anyone. Just curiosity, after all its not that I see them everyday.
But waiting really is torture!...With each passing day I wake up and contemplate to pursue or to give up. Should I continue studying? Should I just get a job? What if I'm not accepted there? Would I want to do another 2 and a half long years? Should I give up? Should I pray harder?
I should pray harder.

And so I did. And cried a lot too. Ok make that I wanted much to lock myself in the room till I get the reply I wanted to hear, because tears just wanted to flood my eyes everytime i thought of it. Which is all the time, unless I was doing something else, which coincidentally, is hardly. But because I hate to be seen crying by anyone even my family members, I would swallow back those tears before it could leak out the corners of my eyes.

Alas I finally received what I've been praying for! The next chapter of my life, in Singapore=)