The Fray's Vienna

The day's last one-way ticket train pulls in
We smile for the casual closure capturing
There goes the downpour
Here goes my fare thee well

There's really no way to reach me
There's really no way to reach me
There's really no way to reach me
'Cause I'm already gone

Only so many words that we can say
Spoken upon long-distance melody
This is my hello
This is my goodness

There's really no way to reach me
There's really no way to reach me
There's really no way to reach me
'Cause I'm already gone

Maybe in five or ten yours and mine will meet again
Straighten this whole thing out
Maybe then honesty need not be feared as a friend or an enemy
This is the distance
And this is my game face

There's really no way to reach me
There's really no way to reach me
Is there really no way to reach me
Am I already gone?

So this is your maverick
This is Vienna.

So yeah, there's no way to reach me if I feel like I can't be reached. I don't hide well but I will if I have to. Can you read me? If yes, I will never hurt again. So come into the light and feel what I feel.

What I keep up to.

One of the many ambitions that I have hoped to be, include the fascination of being a pilot. I have always been awed by the magnificence of the aeroplane, its engineering systems, principles and the ability for such an enormously heavy mode of transportation to score the skies so high.

It's amazing, really,the wonders of modern technology and the advancement of the intellect. I think I was about 7 or 8 when I voiced out my desire, and please please I am not kidding, I also contemplated being a police or a soldier. Some kind of a little girl I was:)

Of course all were met with laughs by my parents and my siblings. As for me, I'll just see where the future leads me. I never ended up being any of these three professions.:) Yet out of these three, I still harbor thoughts of the first despite the fact that I am almost reaching my 3rd decade. Too old to be enrolled,without the perfect vision hahaha.I don't think gender is a problem. I have dedication and motivation. My love for aeroplanes came about more, when after my high school days, I travelled to and fro Kuala Lumpur to further my studies there, with semester breaks. Although I usually use MAS in the past before 1997,my first flight to college was with Air Asia, now awarded the best budget airline in Malaysia.I still use AirAsia when travelling back to hq in KL on business trips.I always like the adrenaline rush when the aeroplane takes off. I almost always positioned myself on the window next to the wings. I don't know why I do that but it's like an automatic response.lol. It's like a romance in the sky, a feeling of surreality once you are travelling through clouds. I would relax and delight myself with a book or two, but mostly I find more contentment in looking outside into the realm of the outer atmosphere.Two of my favourite sceneries are the sunsets and Kuching aerial view at night.Simply breathtaking.There was once I thought of going to the flight deck to see how the pilots work their magic. But until now, I have yet the opportunity. After the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, all major airlines fortified that area against access in case of threat by hijackers, so perhaps civilians too are not allowed.

Then I heard the news. On Sunday night,a day before Gawai, AF 447 went missing shortly after 24 auto messages.Auto pilot had been disengaged, giving possibilities of electrical system shutdown. 228 people including plane crew were feared dead.It was believed the plane broke up in mid-air shortly before plunging into the Atlantic Oceans due to loss of cabin pressure.The aircraft involved was an Airbus A330-200, with dual General Electric CF6-80E1 engines.

For someone who loves flying, I kept on thinking about the passengers, and the 3 experienced pilots of which 2 were co-pilots managing the plane that fateful night. It was well almost halfway on an 11-hour journey from Rio de Janeiro to Paris when problems started to arise right after one of the pilots sent back a manual message that they were going through turbulent weather.10 minutes later, auto messages showed series of malfunctions which lead to the tragedy. Since June 1, I have been following the news in the hopes of a miracle. None it seems would surface.

Up to date, on 6th June it was reported that the Brazilian Air Force had located two bodies, confirmed 2 male passengers and some debris from the missing aircraft. The mystery that surrounds this crash may turn out to be a long, sad story. The last accounts of those harrowing and devastating moments simply cannot be described in words. For now, it is crucial to find the black boxes and flight recorders to get to the bottom of the mishap. Experts say this might be impossible due to the vast area of search, accentuated with the rough conditions of the sea currents. Not to mention the depth of where these instruments may be.The time is ticking as these instruments only emit signals for 30 days. The French and Brazilian force have now 23 days to go.

I can only pray and hope for answers especially to the families of the departed.The feeling of not knowing anything is beyond grief. I can also say after reading reports, those 3 pilot did battle for 15 minutes to stop this catastrophe but alas, to no avail. It is believed they did try to switch course, taking a reversed route to safety but perhaps a task too difficult to maneuver if it was true that there were inaccurate speed readings at the altitude they were travelling.

The crash was sudden and brutal.

Fate has no name nor compromise.

In the wake of this event, it is understandable many will fear the consequences of flying. I too share this notion. But relatively, air travel, to some sources, is still one of the safest. Road accidents claimed life more, so to say.

Now, I respect pilots more for the risks that they are taking and the lives that are in their hands. Such a big commitment. Sometimes, we cannot thoroughly blame the pilots or the plane systems.With so many what ifs,what has happened only God knows the answers. We can only pray that after this horrendous aftermath, we appreciate life more and that it is not in our hands, most of the time.

Searching for an atonement

I may never confront the receiver of this letter I am about to pen. I don't feel the need to. It will never even fall into hands. This is because I fully conform to the futility of such an effort. Attitudes only rectify themselves when totally to their own accord.

I have my flaws but some people masterfully put them in a way that they intensify. Naturally, I get all defensive. It seems as though the words of another vary until yours trully appears to be at fault. This does not rest easy on my conscience.

I have to be granted better judgement. This applies to those whom have suffered similar predicament. Is that such a hard thing to comply to because it means submission?

Thus, I start off with an open confrontation made possible by this letter.

Dear anonymous,

When you have this letter, upon reading it, accidentally maybe, due to the fact it is made known to others but you, there is a high possibility that our friendship will waver. There are no names mentioned and identities are protected. Yet, I wonder if you comprehend the core of the matter I now hereby direct to you.

I don't know why in the first place I bother, because usually,in emphasis to the character I am, I almost always let the issue slide, but no, not this time. I would like to say, it is not I who has drifted away, as I often come across as the initiator to keep in touch. While you.....you merely initiate on the account of your mood. You're like the weather, either sunny or rainy. I cannot keep up with you.

I am tired trying to explain. Why do you sound like you mock me in your casualness? Why are you so hard to please, too arrogant to be humble, too high-leveled to be grounded? It centers around you, you, you. You are in a position where you manage to get away being yourself, don't you know that?

No matter how you treat me, I was blind( so blind) to develop some kind of emotion for you. More than care, alas a little short from love because it was never reciprocated. A wrong decision but ironically a very good one too. From there, I saw how you ignored me. It was an experience beyond regret and all reason.

Rejection has taught me many things. Two of most would be strength and brutal reality.
Thank you for this eye-opener.I emerge scathed but not broken.

When I finally thought the storms have blown over, a bomb landed on my face flat.
After 5 months, we met, this time you took the lead. I made the wrong move in agreeing to see you.
You were still you, as anticipated, not once addressing a word on how I felt when you left me hanging without answers. And I thought, wow, some kind of friend you are.

Perhaps I have hurt you in the past before, resulting in this indication. Now I demand you ask how I felt.

My answer?

No. I will not give you that liberty. Not anymore.

I have said enough. I will proceed to burying this carcass of ugly thoughts into the earth of my deepest realms.

For this is my very own act of redemption. I do not live to bear grudges. And I do not want to start them with you.
Let us part with yesterdays. It is not ours for the taking.

There, I feel so much better now. I pray for peace now that I choose to shake my grounds of silence.

Icebox

A friend of mine introduced to me this song. Really nice actually, although I never heard of the singer. I loved the piano cover more, btw, by David Sides:) Awesome playing.

I think emotions suddenly rushed over.Not many songs have that sort of capability to overwhelm me to that degree. But this one did.

For me, it is sad to have regrets.
It is such a pity to have music in your head but no ability to play it,
nor the voice to belt it out.
So hence I try to be contented in composing it.
Perhaps the closest to music I'll ever get.
Like the song, Icebox,
I got this ice box where my heart used to be,
I'm so cold, I'm so cold, I'm so cold.

If I have a choice, I'll do everything to make it all okay again.

Inspired? lol

It's kind of strange not writing for a long time again.
Like intervals one after the other.
It feels even stranger when you start writing again.

I've finished the pianist story during Gawai, inspired by Twilight, surprisingly.

I never thought I would like the movie. I mean a vampire and a human? It's ridiculous. But workable, much to my astonishment. The chemistry was actually explosive lol. One of the prominent ones that include the list of Jamie and Landon Carter. Not to mention Margaret and John Thornton. Anyway, I know it's supposed to be like an adolescent movie, as in Twilight and stuff like that but hey so is A Walk To Remember. I loved it, still.

Maybe in this realistic world, I longed for the kind of love that dazzle and consume you. Someone who feels protective over you and makes you his life. Who complements you and treats you like an equal.Hmmm. It's okay to dream I am sure. But alas. I cannot comment further on the individuals that come across my paths.

So when I get tired of reality, I simply create characters that appeal to my senses. Doesn't matter if the happiness is an illusion. It's a work of art. As simple as that.

Look at the heart

I wish to emphasize specifically on this.

The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the appearance but the Lord looks at the heart.

It is a crucial reminder to me thus I feel it worth sharing as a reflection to see many things in a different light. Care to join me in my thoughts?


As Michael Warden puts it, DON’T make it your ambition to do great things for God; make it your ambition to have a great heart for God-then the ‘great things’ will take care of themselves. You will always have people who try to measure your life by some great act of service or sacrifice.

“You are godly if you do this or that.”

That is pure foolishness-we are not made holy by any work we do and don’t do. There are multitudes of people who do so called great deeds every day but their hearts are not right.

Frankly, God isn’t the least bit interested in their great acts of service. Whether you preach to thousands or quietly mop floors means little to Him. What matters to God is the heart.

To grow up in Christ, we must understand that God is far more concerned with our inner lives than He is with our outer lives. That is not to say that you should go off and sin at will. But it does mean that you will never grow up as long as you keep putting the cart before the horse. Strive to have a pure, humble and passionate heart for God. Make that your sole ambition. Then you will find yourself doing great things for God without even being conscious of it.

Don’t worry about having a great reputation with people. No matter how you live, there will always be some people who accept you, and some who reject you.

Instead, continuously ask yourself the question that matters: What is my reputation with God?

Bam, his words knocked me off like magic. Just the reading I needed this relaxing Saturday night. Oh my, how can I be so blind all these while lol. Alas, I admit, I am only human. I make mistakes. I acknowledge them and I will try to improve. It is easier said than done, no doubt but let us have the every bit of determination to make change happen for the better.

Shall we?

Expect little and happy therapy

Expect little.

These words have imparted me tremendously. Simply because it is the truth.

It is strange to note how long it takes me to realize that despite how we expect the situation to be, what unravels is not to our satisfaction.

Thus, disappointment sets in. We start to question, then inwardly lay judgement. Isn't that inappropriate?We would be at fault too, in such case. When are we going to learn, tell me? What if we are too late?

The world is full of opportunities; adventures. Yet it holds a bittersweet foretaste of reality.
It's complicated, it's simple, it's all in between. The worries in my head are overcrowded, some necessary to keep me on my toes, others, reflect part of my insecurities. Tap into my soul, and you will find me no different than you or anyone else; trying to survive in this temporal bliss we call world.

Ergo, writing is my escapism method. My pen is my weapon? On the contrary, it is my happy therapy. My thoughts are far more transparent in paper than they are, in my actions. I believe it transports me to a safer place, one that need not much, but inspiration and imagination. Writing becomes my heart beat, my temper regulator. Any writer will understand this. It's surprisingly passionate, sudden and overwhelming. Like an ocean, vast, just write to your heart's content.

We may have very little here on earth, but who knows of the treasures we collect in heaven.

Let us remind ourselves to expect very little but love a lot. Even in our brokenness, we can try to reach out. Let us do so in order to make a difference. Our pathways are in fact, constantly changing. Make the first move and hold your ground.