lifesong
Everyone needs compassion
Love that's never failing
Let mercy fall on me
Everyone needs forgiveness
The kindness of a Saviour
The hope of nations
Saviour, He can move the mountains
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save
Forever author of salvation
He rose and conquered the grave
Jesus conquered the grave
So take me as you find me
All my fears and failures
Fill my life again
I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in
Now I surrender
Shine your light in
Let the whole world see
We're singing, for the glory
Of the risen King
Jesus, Shine your light in
Let the whole world see
We're singing for the glory
Of the risen king
Monday, July 18, 2005
-9:04 pm
Am I really that predictable?
So predictable that people could take one look at a (seemingly) anonymous tag on a cbox and say, "That was definitely Michelle." And *dingdingding!*, they've got it right.
I shan't proceed to cast doubts on my own character, although some people obviously have a bone to pick with me, because I know full well who I am. Whatever people think don't matter to me anymore, at least not like it used to.
I feel the need to apologise to a dear friend who was exposed to my ugly side in an unfortunate post on her cbox. I'm sorry. People who don't know me usually think I'm "a pretty quiet girl". Well, think again because if you ask anyone who knows me well enough, they'll tell you a different story. I guess many of my friends and acquaintances don't have the "privilege" to see that side of me. If you'd known better, you wouldn't want to find out. Trust me. It is unpleasant of course; no one likes to be subjected to the wrath of a hot-tempered girl like me. In the past, it used to be, "Annoy me and you're dead meat."
Shocking revelation? Or maybe not to some.
Believe it or not, I've mellowed quite a bit since then. I guess I'm doing quite a good job of controlling my outbursts. I sure you hope so too.
I often think that I have this regrettable innate tendency of being overly critical of others, not to mention being rather judgemental as well. It seems reminiscent of my father. Perhaps genes which influence temperament do exist. It doesn't help that I'm usually very vocal about my strong opinions. Hence the various people who have decided that I am an "evil --insert an R-rated b-word here--" and deftly spread the word so that the whole world would know (specific examples being evidently disgruntled people I have booked in the course of my term as a prefect). Not that I can be bothered about it; I'm beyond caring.
But I'm really trying very hard to stop looking at people this way. God, I need to see others through Your eyes. Help me do it. Help me put aside all my preconceived notions and biases. Help me to listen but not react, to know but not judge. It is difficult to live according to the Word but nevertheless I will at least persevere in trying.
Sometimes I even wonder if people actually know the real me.
Perhaps that is the reason I keep a blog, though I tell myself it is merely for personal retrospection. Perhaps that is why I'm trying to be frank all the time, though the well-intended truth hurts more than pacifying lies. Lies are easier to tell than the truth. But there are times when I can't help wearing masks though I know I shouldn't. To delve into layers of my consciousness for an answer to the most ambiguously rhetoric questions. To blur the lines between reality and fantasy, to detach myself from the things that are happening, to escape the overwhelming metacognitive thoughts that swirl round and round in my mind, to look at the big picture from a neutral point of view.
Vertigo. Macro-concepts. Uck.
Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't.
[I'm desperate for someone to hear me.]
Though my blog is an outlet for self-expression, I wouldn't say it reveals who I really am. There are times when I question what I write. Do I write it for myself out of authentic feelings, or is it just a montage of half-truths woven together to hide my true reflection? Perhaps the potential vulnerability of displaying my innermost thoughts and feelings on the internet for all to see evokes a certain self-regulating censorship I use to protect myself from getting hurt. This is just a proposed paradigm. Some things just cannot be explained.
At times, I feel like Offred in The Handmaid's Tale. Mystery, illusions and historial facts all rolled into one. Fighting against irksome bastards like Professor Pieixoto. Him and his demeaning jokes are just too much to bear.
Whether or not what you are reading is fact or fiction, I guess
you'll never know.
0comments