oceans of me

They take a fiendish delight in breaking broken hearts.

I come to write here just so I don’t lose myself, it’s a physically stabilising factor for me.

I like to think I’m an ocean;
Something too deep to know itself fully.
Something full of undiscovered life and deadness.
Something that heals others while being destroyed, yet still lives on gracefully.
Something that maybe no one actually really needs;

who in respectful, lonely silence, observes from afar the glorious moments of others, such as of a human on his knees before the woman who holds his heart, and not only happy moments, but also willingly take in the sight and sounds of a body, broken, full of tears, coming to her bosom to weep;
who is tasked to carry the darkest secrets of others, innumerable, safely buried forever, deep in her black heart;
who is full of roaring energy, alternating her ebbs and flows, between bursting with childish passion, crashing the best of her against lifeless nothings and a gentle demure demeanour, tamed and reflecting nothing of herself, only the majesty of the sun’s rays at daybreak, just because she hopes, she breathes, she lives;

who in fury, is only allowed to tremble beneath the surface, bearing all the emotions that others lacked, not born with it.
and no one ever sees, or think it matters, when her heart splits open in an inability to hold in her agony.

they say, she’ll get over it.

after all, she’s just an ocean.

//
I’m an ocean, I’m a sea
There’s a world inside of me.

Midnight child

“Maybe this is a rebellious thing to say… But it takes a really strong and brave person to carry around a heart that feels so much.” @ambernroth

Midnight child,

When clash of voices

And harsh sounds

Goes on,

You envy how time has fun,

playing with the sky.

You feel the tiniest atom

Of emotions that others don’t

And you wonder why.

Midnight child,

Maybe you were born to live

Wanting to die.

Love the Hate

In the end they’re gonna judge you anyway so whatever.

I’m learning to love endings. It’s almost sadistic even, maybe, I don’t know. Something like the way a paper turns brown and curls as if writhing in pain as fire consumes it. That kind of pain, I see as art.

While the poor paper disappears, devoured by the devil of a flame, isn’t it bitterly ironic however that it is the fire that was more beautiful?

I’m learning to love the hate I get from my writings, both existing and nonexistent. Kept as proof to shackle me? I’m sorry there won’t be apologies. 

You know why I love the hate? It’s because it trains me to rise higher each time.

You talk about me but I don’t know your name.

That’s exactly how legends live.

You show me what you lack pathetically, honesty, self-respect, love and respect for others.

I solemnly promise I shall strive to fulfill what you have failed to do so.

An Ode to my Piano

Dear One,

It’s been more than a decade since we first met but honestly, you’re in my earliest recollections of childhood, I can’t remember a time when i did not have you in my life.

I remember being excited on my first piano lesson at Symphony Music School @ the old CWP and in the following months, being so eager to get home to you to practice ‘A Dozen A Day’ and John Thompson’s.

I remember practicing my grade 1 A:1 piece, ‘Sarabande’ and it was my very first favorite song. I can still remember the tune clearly today, thanks to you.

I remember very vividly the day i came home after piano lesson to practice triads for the very first time, i thought I was becoming pro. silly little me

You grew with me, sitting in the corner of the hall, faithfully accompanying me at every daily practice session.

I remember as I stepped into youthhood, venting my frustrations out on you, playing ‘Danza de la Moza Donosa’ by Alberto Ginastera in the most ungraceful, forceful way.

I remember crying on you mere hours before my grade 8 practical exam because that morning my fingers couldn’t seem to perfect the trills for A:1.

I remember the feeling of accomplishment each time i tried out the few bars of what i composed for grade 8 theory (though my compositions were never that great).

You’ve watched me grow, witnessed my terrible days and my on top of the cloud days.
You’ve brought me only more growth and so much joy with every hour I spent together with you.
You’ve shaped me in more ways than you can ever imagine, you were with me when no one understood why trills were so hard to play with stiff morning wrists.

Thank you for the years of love and happiness and laughter you’ve brought to me, my family and my friends.

Thanks to you, my practices have led me this far.
Thank you for never letting me down, for never letting me go away sad and I promise I’ll keep stepping upwards.

You’ve grown old with me and now it’s time to say good bye.

Thank you for being my first real piano, for sticking by me through so much tears and pain, for being a comforting constant in my life.

You’ve served me well.

It’s 2.00pm, the movers have come.

My heart is swelling with emotions.

So now, dear one, it’s time for you to go make some other place better and I hope you fill their house and hearts with the same happiness and gentle, faithful love you’ve given me for all this while.

Lovingly yours,
Joanna Tan.

 

 

integrate or disintegrate 

Ah. Beautiful ashes almost turned into beautiful dust.

I’ve almost forgotten I had a blog. This is ridiculous I love writing why did I even stop

//

How has 2017 been treating you? what am I talking about ew gross I hate this 

How has 2017 been treating me? That’s much better

It’s been fantastic, never been better, wrote a couple of tunes collab with pre-written lyrics during 2 weeks of Feb and recorded them at a makeshift ‘studio’. I can say i’m a legit singer songwriter now. However, I write songs no one listens to 🙂

와우, 미친놈아. 나 정말 미쳤어.

.

Honestly, truthfully, without a trace of lying, quite frankly and to be forward, it’s like I’m walking with mist surrounding my feet. “Where am I headed to, what am I going to do, what is going to happen to me”, it seems the only answer I get is rebounding echoes of my own steps that reproach me and are threatening to overwhelm and confuse me.

( “You write so beautifully. The inside of your mind must be a terrible place.” Love this quote to a million smithereens.)

Side note: It is a terrible place, my mind, that is and I’ll never share it with anyone I love.

//

Trust. Have faith. Be patient. 

It’s probably my fault, having heard those phrases over and over, that they seem mindless and empty at this point of time and they slide off my back, or rather, ears for that matter.

It’s not that it’s lost its meaning, definitely not. I think it’s just spoken too much by people who don’t even mean it sometimes; I declare myself guilty of this grievous charge.

. Mindless. Empty. Spare me your despising thoughts and grant me some place to breathe out reasonable fear.

Fear that I am going down a path I should not, fear that I will never return, fearing if I am sure I am doing the right thing.

I do not want to go with the flow. I want to live in His will.

And if only it was all written down where I can read, I would gladly follow it all to the very end.

“it’s when they’re dying, wilting, that’s when the flowers are most beautiful.”

#joannatanquotes

first things first

i always feel i should apologize for not writing here but is there a need to if no one even reads it. maybe the one i should apologize to is myself –

on to the post.

November went past in a blur. Busy days, lazy days, happy days, not so happy days. December began. wanted to blog about VBS but curse my lazy fingers, i never got around to doing so. last week was youth camp (theme was First things first: Consider Your Ways, Haggai 1:6-7) and it was fUN. and now it’s almost Christmas, and i thought i should really get to posting something on me blog, mainly for myself, so i’ll never forget the many happy things that has happened.

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FIRST THINGS FIRST this photo makes me so happy. #Protosinmyheart  < i came up with this hashtag on my ig photos but i doubt anyone got the double meaning . Protos was my team name and the first meaning is that my team is in my heart. Protos is also the Greek word for First, so it means #(First)inmyheart. yay im so clever right. joanna. who cares HA.

 

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9/10 of Protos
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3/5 of senior girls
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Ally. made so many jabs at each other for all the time we’ve known each other. but i’m glad we’re friends, and maybe something even more. something like family.

 

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’99 girls with legit the best assistant camp master. 

IM SO SURE he wanted to sleep after finale night but cos we were being a nuisance no we weren’t he took us out for pRATA @ 2AM so touching also cos we weren’t allowed to play games at night on the campsite blah i love my youth leaders cos they care for us spiritually AND outwardly, in the things they do for us, even if it means giving up precious sleep to take us out for prata. best people.

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heart shape heart shape heart shape

best people ever.

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Protos and Rishon!!!!

so much love for yall. This camp was so smooth and peaceful, no fights no crying no arguments no clashes. I think that was the highlight for me; even though there were two teams, the rivalry wasn’t as intense as previous years. and I LIKE. i really truly enjoyed myself those 5 short days.

decisions made, commitments shared. I’m so grateful for HANNAH at the final sharing before we left camp. i’m so glad we were paired up, the considering of our ways, mutual understanding and encouragement. bomb. I love her sm.

i learned so much this year. from devotions, i really learned alot in the small senior girls group. and even from the morning exercise. even though i almost fainted after the first day’s exercise HAHA
sure the exercises were tough but i know they were for my good and it would make me strong. No pain, no gain.

2 more days to Christmas. 8 days to new year and of course. my birthday yas. 17 cycles of 365 days is coming to an end. time to do some emo reflections.