I feel depressed, that i am throwing away all my homework.
Throwing away all my rubbish, all the work i loathed, and wish i didnt have to do.
I feel devastated that i killed so many trees, printed notes that i never read.
I am one mcq paper away from total Freedom.
I will live life again.

And as i feel reluctant to throw away all my work,
God said, "Son, let go."

This is it. I'm letting go.



Simple and complex.
I shall do something like this one day.

God told me to start reading Job on Friday.
Quiet time has been...rather emotion roller coaster like since then.
I seldom feel anything in quiet time, i usually just think.
But reading Job has been quite a journey, i am only at chapter 4 and breaking down all their words...is finally putting me in their spot.
I used to glance through Job, tried to finish the chapter, and hope it somehow made sense to me, this time its just so different.
Its just so heart wrenching.

I think this is obvious, but we all missed it.
Few or maybe no one came close to losing what Job lost.
When we are buried in our pain, we seldom see pass beyond the veil of agony.
Job was firstly a blameless and upright man, feared God and shunned evil.
Quite sure we dont cut out for that label.
Next he was so exceedingly blessed, he did be Bill Gates back then, he was described as the
greatest of all the people of the East - Job 1:3
The greater the height, the greater the fall.


Josh told me something last night which suddenly made a lot of sense.
Things happened anyway, either by God's permissible will, or God's perfect will.
And what happened to Job was permissible.
Why did God even allow Job to go through something so excruciating?
Simple: He is God, and Satan loves to have competition, so we become God's chest pieces.
Its an honour to be God s chest piece anyway.
God knew He would not lose Job, not because Job s was in such a dire state, but because the devil could not break Job s character, something only God had access to.
The devil could only attempt to change it.

As i proceed to chapter 2, i begin wondering how was it like that Job struck with boils from the crown of his head to the sole of his feet, sleeps, sits.
They sat there in silence for 7 days and 7 nights, they most probably did not eat and bathe, with their robes torn, and dust and ashes all over them.
Beats our sleep deprivation by leaps.

Its interesting how the devil only appeared twice in Job.
Since both God and the devil had a competition, the devil stop protruding because there was nothing else left to take from Job besides his life.
Job was reduced to the lowest of the lowest, KO of the KO.

And chapter 3, is so freaking sad.
He exceedingly rejoices when he finds the grave.
Existentialism questioned.
It seems like he wish he would have be an aborted child in today's term.
And we already symapthized an aborted child so much, what more Job.
Job spent his entire life gathering the blessings God gave him, and he simply lost it all in a few minutes.

And all this while, i listen to the lines, such a beautiful surrender.
Mute Maths - Control


Just like any other day
How did we end up here.
Where
is
here
.
Was it there that we started?
I mean…when did start, start?
How did I string all these words together
Incoherent, I conjured
These fragile thoughts
My mind could not stop
My breath was catching up with my heart beat,
I screamed, “Its not fair.”
I SCREAMED, “ITS NOT FAIR.”
Was I trying to make someone hear me
Making sure someone will hear me
Denying the truth that the odds are against me
That others are screaming the same line
Stuck in their own lives

Everything is broken
All around me glass shattered
F r a g m e n t s
Streaks of blood across the floor

My tears were red
My palms and fingers could now write
Its singular
Long gone is the plural
I could still see my morbid being
The reflected image of a nearby broken glass
That s a good sign
Light is struggling to break in

I just need to hear those lines
“I’ve been there, I’ve done that.”
I just need to hear those three words
From anyone,
“I feel you.”
And I need to hear from God
More than ever
That “It is okay
Everything is going to okay.”

When my ears receives aid
And my heart finds strength
To stand up again
It will no longer matter
When did start, start.
Or how did end, end.

--

me, "God, what should we feel about it?"
God, "Nothing."
me, "God how can we feel nothing about this? It is so unfair, it just is. Everything is just so...broken. So lost, so hopeless."
God just held me close to Him, and i continue kicking and screaming, the same three words over and over again.
And all He said was, "Son."
He knew no words or rationale thought could justify my feelings.
He knew best that a hug would say everything words cannot say.
Everything words never meant to say.

This is my story.
I listen to their stories.

Thoughts on a 30mins Bus Ride Home
.
.
.
Life is like a bus ride.
We imagine what is it like to be somewhere else.
What is it like to not sit on the bus but by the tree
Along the roadside.
To watch the buses pass by.
We wonder what kind of life the person sitting beside us led.
We think about all the other possibilities if we were elsewhere,
Spending time not traveling, but living.
Not dreaming, but be-ing.

I listen to the beats and tunes,,,,
Yet barely hear the birds chirp""
The grass shoots!!!!
It is like a bus ride, because i think this is the route.
But i never know if i would meet an accident..__a trail of
Expected accidents.
Along the road, anything could happen?
I saw that green passing bin, staring out at me.
It never moves, but it always notices.
Or is that just my imagination.

Life is a bus ride.
I struggle to get off.
And when i am done,
I get on to another bus ride.
We continue to sit beside strangers,
Lovers, Friends, People, Animals.
We give up out seats for those who need a dose of kindness
I give up my seat because it just seems right.
I hold on to the bars and handles, for the road is seldom flat or straight.
Because God invented gravity.
And inertia. And...

Life is a freaking long bus ride.
Time crawls at snail's pace.
And the snail never considered reverse.
Nothing is certain.
Just like the stranger beside me.
All probabilities of a saint, or a sadist.
But all in the same bus ride.
All heading home.
All combating against this traffic.
This Jam. This butter.

We got on the wrong bus rides.
I dont want to talk about its.
We got off at the wrong bus stops.
I dont want to think about its.

I can press the stop button if i want to?
I planned to, didnt i.
Why did i miss the stop then.
Have i overslept.
Quit asking if this is a dream.
This is reality./!/?
We miss our stops.
I got down and walk.
Home.


Life is a bus ride.
Not two bus rides,
Because i Only have One life.
I Only have enough coins for One trip.
One chance.
One bus ride home.

In all certainty.
This Bus Ride will one day reach my destination.
This Bus Ride will end.
Just W H E N
And before that happens, may i smile,
And enjoy this ___ Bus Ride