breathe 

Leave her alone. 

It’s okay for you to walk with big people steps, but you forget the distance gets too big for the little one to catch up.

Sometimes you all forget she’s the young one, forget that she just started to grow, forget she’s weak. You all are so cruel to forget that you all gone too far ahead for her to catch up, making her trip on your feet when she desperately quickens her pace to keep up, besides tripping on her own.

Please don’t forget she’s the young one. She’s the weak one. She doesn’t want to march in time with your big people steps already because her knees are bleeding.

So leave her alone while you all go play your big people games, talk your big people talk and run your races.

The little one needs to catch her breath.

Oh, I’m sure she’ll get up soon, but this time, she’ll run on her own.

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Psalm 103:1-5

Bless the LORD, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits:
Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases;
Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindess and tender mercies;
Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle’s.


 

All His benefits to me, and dare i complain?

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