The thought "What am I here for?" has always been in my mind like honey towards a wild bear. I don't know if it is the same for many out there, or perhaps I am just to drama queen, but I am sure there are probably one or two out there that might just think the same way as I am now.
Life, is it simply just because it is the way it is? Or that everything that we know, everything that we have had been through and experience things and live to tell about it another day just occur with no absolute reason? That things just happen because it happened so? Or are we all pre-destine to something larger?
I have always wonder to myself, what would I be like after 10 years, 15, 25 years gone by... What would I be doing by then? Would I be someone of importance or would I just be like every else who goes about their business and not caring about the world?
Would I be doing what I need to do or would I just be a normal wife to a normal husband and have a normal family like everyone else?
If everyone is living one and the same life that everyone else is living in, then what makes us different from each other? How would I say that "I am Kimberly Yeo Chui In, the one and only?" Are we all created to be the same and doing the same things day after day like everyone else? But what if, there is something more that we could do, something that we normally would not do, but because of the things that are changing around us, causes us to be better and to take action?
Question:
1. What if we were all born with a higher purpose, whether it is to meet someone, or to help someone in need that we are able to help them, or maybe, perhaps to change the world for the better?
2. Will we be able to learn what it is that we are suppose to do, or do with take a leap of faith? But faith in what?
3. How and where do we find these answers and how reliable are they?
Translate
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Sunday, 13 May 2012
Wishes To Savour
It has been a long time since I left home to start work as a photojournalist. I love my work. But I miss home too. Especially my mother's cookings. When I go back home for the holidays, I am going to bury myself in these:
1. Barramundi fish (Ikan Siakap) steamed in (fried) thai pepper, (fried) garlics and sweet soy sauce.
2. Fried chicken in chunk size in thick lemon squized souce.
3. Water spinach (Kang kong) cook with sambal belacan.
4. Fried carrot cake.
5. Red velvet cake
P.S: Happy Mother's Day to all mothers
1. Barramundi fish (Ikan Siakap) steamed in (fried) thai pepper, (fried) garlics and sweet soy sauce.
2. Fried chicken in chunk size in thick lemon squized souce.
3. Water spinach (Kang kong) cook with sambal belacan.
4. Fried carrot cake.
5. Red velvet cake
P.S: Happy Mother's Day to all mothers
=======
Location: Under the sun
Mood: Sleepy...
=======
Monday, 7 May 2012
Note From Author
I have no assignment today. Just sitting in office with my laptop, looking at the previous blogs from the years before. I never knew I could manage to write something as that awful and to even put it up for everyone to read! What an embarrassment to the world of writing.
I notice who I still got pictures from my junior years in university, with friends that I no longer friends with. Should I take them down? Seeing those faces and brings the saddest memories back. But I guess I should just leave them there for others to see. Besides, thats the reason why I write blogs... To share with people.
I notice who I still got pictures from my junior years in university, with friends that I no longer friends with. Should I take them down? Seeing those faces and brings the saddest memories back. But I guess I should just leave them there for others to see. Besides, thats the reason why I write blogs... To share with people.
=======
Location: Office
Mood: Bored
=======
Sunday, 6 May 2012
Poverty in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Poverty... What is poverty? Just another word in the dictionary with more useless words that meant nothing more to another human being whom set high up in the status quo. What is poverty? For someone who wakes up every morning, left the house with perfume tracing their steps, with a desk at the office, car at the basement and a family to go home to at the end of the day. It is no different from a man waking up every morning, walking to a clear spot on the street with footsteps to trace his every whereabouts, personal belongings beside him where ever he goes, and every where is his place for a home in the cold night.
"Unsound"
"Unsound"
Memory hits the brain as hard as the knife could stab the heart.
The sound of beating against the wall was nothing but a neighboring scream that was only yesterday.
The night is silent, filled with loud sorrow of yester-year.
Memory hits the brain as hard as the knife could stab the heart.
The sound of beating against the wall was nothing but a neighboring scream that was only yesterday.
The night is silent, filled with loud sorrow of yester-year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)