Heartstrings
20111017 @ Monday, October 17, 2011
Behold The Truth #1
Monday, October 17, 2011
Picture of A Person
Monday, October 17, 2011
There we have it, pictures of the leading guy in HYF's story. I have more, but too bad. :)
How Far Should A Person Go In The Name of Love?
Monday, October 17, 2011
“When you find you,
come back to me”
Lately, it seemed I
didn’t know a lot of things. There were people who claim they have all the
answers, or at least the answers to the big questions, but I had never believed
them. There was something about the assurance with which they spoke or wrote that
seemed self-justifying. But if there was one person who could answer any
question, my question would be; How far
should a person go in the name of love?
I could pose the
question to a hundred people and get a hundred different answers. Most were
obvious: A person should sacrifice, or accept or forgive or even fight if
needed be… the list went on and on. Still, even though I knew all the answers
were valid, none would help me now. Some things were beyond understanding.
Thinking back, I recall events which I wish I could change, tears I wish were
never shed, time that could have been better spent, and frustrations I should
have shrugged off. Life it seems was full of regret, and I yearn to turn back
the clock so I could live parts of my life over and over again. One thing was
certain: I should have been a better friend. As I consider the question of how
far a person should go in the name of love, I know what my answer would be.
Sometimes it means that a person should lie.
Days at The Hospital
Monday, October 17, 2011
“You were the hope that kept me trusting”
There was a cafeteria
on the ground floor of the hospital, and on most days I used to go there,
mainly to hear voices other than my own. Normally, I arrived around tea-time,
and over the weeks I began to recognize the regulars. Most were employees, but
there was an elderly woman who seems to be there every time I arrived. Though,
I’d never spoken to her, I learnt from Li Nar, the nurse, that the woman’s
husband had already been in the intensive care unit when Nick was admitted.
Something about complications from diabetes, and whenever I saw the woman
eating a bowl of soup, I thought about her husband upstairs. It was easy to
imagine the worst: a patient hooked up to a dozen machines, endless rounds of
surgery, possible amputation, a man barely hanging on. It wasn’t my business to
ask, and I wasn’t even certain that I wanted to know the truth, if only because
it felt as though I couldn’t summon the concern I knew I needed to show. My
ability to empathize, it seems to me, had evaporated.
Still, I watched her, curious about what I
could learn from her. While the knot in my stomach never seemed to settle
enough for me to swallow a few bites of anything, she not only ate her entire
meal, but seemed to enjoy it. While I found it impossible to focus long enough
on anything other than my own needs and my friends daily existence, she read
novels during lunch, and more than once I’d see her laughing quietly at a
passage that amused her. And unlike me, she still maintained an ability to
smile, one she offered willingly to those who passed her table.
Sometimes, in that smile, I thought I could
see a trace of loneliness, even as I chided myself for imagining something that
probably wasn’t there. I couldn’t help wondering about her marriage. Because of
her age, I assumed they’d celebrated a silver, even golden, anniversary. Most
likely, there were kids, even if I’d never seen them. I wondered whether they’d
been happy, for she seemed to be taking her husband’s illness in stride, while
I walked the corridors of the hospital feeling as if a single wrong step would
send me crumpling to the floor.
I didn’t know whether I should admire the
woman or feel sorry for her. I always turned away before she caught me
starring. I remember pushing aside my tray, feeling ill. My sandwich was only
half-eaten. I debated whether to bring it back with me to the room but I knew I
wouldn’t have finished it there either. I turned toward the window.
The cafeteria overlooked a small green space,
and I watched the world change outside.
A Tough Decision
Monday, October 17, 2011
“Everyone was watching you as you slipped away, but all they ever
wanted was the light you gave them”
They’ve given us a
week to decide which stream to take. A WEEK.
Choosing streams isn’t
as easy as I thought; it’s choosing what subjects you’re going to take for the
next 2 years and the examinations that you’re going to sit for SPM. It isn’t a
decision that should be taken lightly. It gets harder when your ambition
changes almost every 5 minutes. It’s probably much easier for the students that
have their life planned out, like Esther Kok.
I was thinking of choosing Sub
Science as my 1st choice and Arts as my second, package C to be
precise. Yet now, I think that I might take Pure Science as my 1st
choice and Sub Science as my 2nd. The only thing I know for certain
is that I am definitely not choosing Package D.
Tough decisions are always
frustrating.
Anyway, I have to keep
this short and simple, cause I’m off to go jogging with Oli.