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October 2011

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The days of old hath dowered us,

Chewing on the passionfruit seeds from the yoghurt and freezing myself off in the room. Love being too cold and wrapped up in my quilt. Feels like back then when I was still in school - those nights I spent studying, with tea and fruits and ice cold beers, whirling my pen and being narcissistic about my handwriting hahaha. 

I can't remember which was my first love. Language, or my piano. 

Equally beautiful, equally subtle and varied and infinitely pleasing when strung together in seamless harmony. I haven't watched chinese shows in such a long time mainly because it is more difficult to get my hands on worthy ones. But this. This makes me so strangely satisfied. Still over 500 years ago. Hahaha I need to be in somewhere else, some time else.

It's something I've not felt in a long time. 

Our Father, by whose servants,
Our school was built of old.
Whose hand hath crowned thy children
With blessings manifold; 
For thy unfailing mercies
Far strewn along the way, 
With all who passed before us, 
We praise thy name today. 

They reaped not where they laboured, 
We reaped what they hath sown.
Our harvest may be garnered
By ages yet unknown;
The days of old hath dowered us, 
With gifts beyond all praise,
Our Father make us faithful, 
To serve the coming days.

Before us and beside us, 
Still holden by thy hand.
A cloud of unseen witness,
Our elder comrades stands;
One family unbroken,
We join with one acclaim -
One heart, one voice uplifting, 
To glorify thy name.



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