Dreams
Dreams are like grains of sand. Something as ephemeral as a rose plant in a desert. Something that can be blown away by the winds of change. Something fragile, defenseless and powerless. People say that dreams are powerful, something so strong that it can cause you to draw near it without thinking, like a drug addict intent on ruining himself with booze and unknown substances with added detergent. It is not the dream. It is our will power and motivation that brings us nearer to our goal.

We are like the clams on the ocean bed. One day, a grain of sand, the dream, floats in and irritates us. We try to tell ourselves that it is impossible to make it happen. Sub consciously, or even consciously, we put in tiny amounts of effort to harden that dream. Before we realize it, a hard outer coating has secured the dream within it

You hear people, powerful, strong, influential people, on the news or in magazines. They all say a common thing:

“I never thought I could achieve this.”

Let me tell you something. That is probably the biggest lie in their lives. They dreamed that they would, that they could, achieve it. If you yourself dream that you will fail, it is like doing a murder in front of a police man.

By now you’ll be reaching for the mouse to the link to another blog. Hold a second. I did not in the last 246 words wrote that there will be no failure. Sure there will be failures but as long as you have the guts to stand up and try again, you will succeed. Maybe not where you originally thought but it is more of the process than the outcome.

Right now I am seething with anger because the composition that I wrote (above) did not win anything. Despite putting in a lot of effort on my part. But they will be holding it again next year. I will try and when someone asks me (or looks down sneering) why I did not succeed, I will say this:

“True I did not, but I will, one day.”

Discuss Equality Among People

All animals are equal,but some animals are more equal than others.

You just need to change two words and it will fit in with our daily lives

All humans are equal,but some humans are more equal than others.
George Orwell, author of Animal Farm, has made quite a deep impression on me with his story focussing on the trival aspects of a group of normal animals. If you look closely at the last chapter, you will notice something about the pigs inviting the humans over to talk about the growth of animal farm.The pigs "morph" into humans and so do the humans appear to be the pigs. This shows that during a rebellion rules thought to be vital at first are thrown by the wayside because of the arrogance of people
In today's context, there is much friction between races as well as the rich and poor. The poor are normally the ones considered by people as the outcasts.Providing them little choice when it comes to jobs or education for their children. I feel that this is a barrier we must overcome.There will be no wars if nobody wants to tryant over others.If we can solve that,peace and equality among men will be our only reward.

A Tribute to Teachers

Teachers require a lot and I mean tons of effort to take care of students. I know that it is still a long way from teacher's day but seriously, how often do we thank them? How often do we complain about the immense mountains of homework they set for us to complete? How often do we dare to take the initiative to help them? I personally feel guilty to admit that I have not really come up to scratch in my performance and mostly feel evil when I complain as our teachers have to mark our sloppy work. But most of the time I feel compelled to do well because of my teachers. I do not want to let the hard work to be washed down the sewer just like a load of polluted water: something not only not needed but hated.I was a pretty awful pupil last year but my form teacher never stopped believing in me and encouraged me to work on my weakness: math. Now I am scraping A or A star with luck for that subject. Mother tongue has been my worst subject and I am glad that it is catching up. To all teachers (who know my blog or actually I don't think they know) THANKS A BUNCH!

Imagine you are a mother, or a close sister to a six year old toddler stuck in this canyon. You have about two days worth of water and a dead hand phone. In Vanishing Acts, by renowned writer Jodi Picoult, it portrays the hard decisions that four people face, each writing from their point of view. A mother, Delia who was kidnapped by her own father. Delia's mother,Elsie, a mother who lost her baby. Andrew, a man who loved his daughter so much that he is now in jail and on trail after about a quarter of a century. Eric, Delia's fiance who caused Delia's daughter, Sophie to be born out of wedlock, has to be a good father and be Andrew's attorney in the state of Arizona where he knows little or nothing about the state law. Fritz, a man who loves Delia but does not wish to drive a wedge between the loving couple.

Complicated already? It gets better. You have lived all your life in the New Hampshire and suddenly you found out that your mother is still alive and the house you live in while attending the court case is a caravan and is painted Hubba Bubba pink down to the toilet bowl.

The Little Prince

Written by Antoine De Saint-Exupery, and translated from French to the English version is heart warming even though the story is written in a simple to understand style. The author has wanted all his life to be an artist but his feelings and aspirations are crushed by adults. I love it because it is a polite rebellion of children. Or any other person under the rule of an elder.

One day, the plane he was piloting crashed in a desert. He was alone and only had a little drinking water left. He sets to work on his engine, and finds himself with the most irritating person to a worried man, a boy with no worries.

Truly, the prince asks many questions but never really replies. He speaks of things briefly and refuses to elaborate. The things he talks about most are very meaningful.How adults don't see the world as they should, adults rarely look at the true beauty of things and only worry on the value. They are less inquisitive as kids, so far as I'm concerned.

A common rose, a tamed fox and a vile snake bring something to the prince. The rose causes him to feel guilty because he left her. The fox gave him a secret of a saying:It is only with the heart one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The snake sent him to his final resting place. The story was really not much compared to the famous novels but it almost made me cry. The meaning is deep, telling us to repent and follow our hearts and open the eyes of our souls.

I hope you'll take the time to read it, remember : What is essential is invisible to the eye.

A short story I wrote please comment on it

My mind raced and thought deeply. A cooling zephyr brushed my hair like a mother, but I had never known my mother's love for me as she spent her time in and out of jail. Lost in another world. I promised never to follow her when I found out the truth. At sixteen, month before my O' levels, however I could end my miserable life like she did.
I knew the consequences, after being preached by my teachers and father almost daily. My father though not a drug addict, was as unloving as my mom. My good grades came from my friends and the results only showed my father I was not as talented as some geniuses in class.
Here however, my chance of one life time stood before me like a phantom of miracles. That little round pill worth just an hour of calm. I took it from John as we walked out of the alley and I pocketed the pill to save it until my father's tirade of me staying out late again.
True to my predictions, my father scolded me harshly and rained blows with such strength that I did not understand how such a frail person could produce. That was the last straw, if he hated me that much then he wouldn't be hurt if I lost myself: but I knew better.
Against everything I had learnt, I rushed down to a secluded lane and downed the pill with a swig of beer with John. My heart almost bursting with the need to stop it all but it rested at supreme indulgence seconds later.
After the raging inferno of emotions building up inside my soul, I felt the peace with my pill. I laughed to see the moon and doggedly smiled and connected with the tips of the universe. The happiness spread all over me and I knew at last why my mother had resorted to this. Even though I didn't know the wonders of the garden of Eden, mysteriously I knew it felt like this.
I shivered and my teeth chattered. What was happening? I had read about the cold turkey treatment but I had only took it once. Then the realisation swooshed over me, it said that you would be hooked on no matter how many times. There was a back-up pill in my bag and I was overcome by the lust of the dreaded yet miraculous pill.
Over the next few weeks I willed. My father noticed nothing as I often gave him the cold shoulder. My mom was in jail for drink driving. I stole in total 5 of the latest hand phones with such skill that I was never caught. Even though I had emptied my life savings I could not cope with the demands my body gave me. Like my other "friends" such as John, we "chased the dragon". Supplies were low and prices shot up. To raise the money, I took more and more things worth higher values. I was in the pill's excellent moods when the exams were on.
As expected I failed. My father questioned me repeatedly about my marks. Why couldn't I get at least an A? Why did I fail for all my subjects? I was reluctant to tell him even though I yearned to. Was I really that willing to let all my happiness ebb away like that? After all my true friends did to me by giving me the pill. I was lost and hid in my room in spite of my father's screams of protest.
I sank slowly to the ground, my head against the cooling surface of the mirror. Why did I feel this way? My noisy temptation monsters distracted me and I could hear faintly the shrill voice of my true self. I felt so because I still knew I was doing wrong. True, I had fallen into the dark chasm of my own greediness but I could still see light and hope. My brain worked hard to think properly and I was exhausted. My monsters guarded my true voice well that night and instead of making the return to the light, I was as stubborn as a mule and plodded on with my dreary existence with the pill.
Finding one's room guarded by two narcotics officers was not the best of situations. That was what I saw after coming back after yet another night of drinking and inhalants. I had no more resistance inside me and for the first time in weeks, when I saw my reflection, I saw a pale and ashen faced boy. Not the musculine hero I was with the pill. I had chosen this route and I will endeavour to come back to my senses.
" Jason."
I turned and saw my father. He had found out the truth and I was grateful and for once I could feel the love he felt for me through all his turbulant moods when my mother changed. Slowly and with my heart over filling with the knowledge of how much he cared and suffered becaused he loved me as his son out of his five children.
"Dad, I love you."
My voice cracked and I could not say my regrets and was sorry that I had never even acknowledged him as my father. A bond had connected between us and the officers smiled to see me accept my fate and I told them truthfully all that I knew, and went through the harsh treatment better than others because I knew that I was surrounded by love that had been always there. My mind had simply refused to believe it.
Now as a man, I have a tarnished reputation but amazingly, my school accepted me. Many job interviews turned out to be unsuccesful but the ones whom I love encouraged me with every waking day and I am touched by what they did. They know it and that is all that matters.

Here are my two most favourite books as the writer's words, expressions and beautiful phrasing simply swish around you like a cooling May zephyr.

The plot is most enticing but I am pretty upset with the beginning of the stories. The first story by Brian John, On Angel Mountain, shows the inferno the Morgan clan has emerged from. I would rate this N16 though. Not for the fain hearted.

There was a great fire before David and Martha, the author of the profound diary, met. The fire caused David to lose his parents, and siblings except his brother, who later died in a storm at sea.

Martha was found to be pregnant after a few months and with the help of Martha's brother, a Baptist, the two were married in secrecy.

Martha soon hates being pregnant and dreads it so much that she nearly committed suicide. Thankfully on that day, the sun was shinning and she changed her mind after visiting a friend. However her endeavours fail as she loses her baby and sinks into deep melancholy.

Other problems wind themselves tightly around the virtuous Plas Inglli, Martha's new family's estate.Moses Lyord, their manservant turns to be Martha Morgan's biggest nightmare.

Do read this book, I am very amazed that such amazing literary efforts aren't well recognised.

It is sold at the one and only borders outlet in Singapore, though I think I might have snapped up the last book.