00:00.

On Tuesday, I wore a pink blouse. It was in a sweet shade of pink, and cut in a peasant style, with a simple gather at the bottom, detail at sleeves end and... a strip of lace along the neckline. Its saving grace was its cut, specifically the collar cut in what I think is described as empire cut. Think boat neck with acute angles.

Ok, description over.

I don't wear lace or pink. Or at least not that shade of pink. While I recognise the potential and flattering nature of the colour, I have shunned pink stuff generally because it represented - to me, and on me only, mind you - vulnerability and weakness. A certain helplessness.

I'm big on symbolic meanings and I prefer other less loaded colours, or colours loaded with descriptions that fit me better.

So why did I wear that blouse, a gift from an aunty? I think I was taking the mickey out of myself and telling myself, oh sod the rules, you cow, you.

After all, it's no shame to admit I'm Not As Strong As I Think I Am [One ofRich Mullins' songs title].

So, at the stroke of midnight on the new year, I was walking along a road near Ang Mo Kio central, on my way to a friend's place after church ended at 11.30-ish.

I think one thing God has been working on inside of me is teaching me to face all of me. To be honest, and to dare to show myself vulnerable to people. I've a fair share of control freakiness in me. And despite loving sleep and quietness, I'm impatient when it comes to the unfuring of my life - scope, plan and eventuality.

I'm increasingly breaking the pop culture rules I held for so long. And I'm feeling like it's fine. Whatever.

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Monday, I started it feeling decent and top of the world but two new colleagues reminded me how dispensible everyone is. So I was milling about in the dumps for a while. But you know, if the now me is the me fresh from poly, swallowing that I am not indispensible would have been a very jagged, darn bitter pill.

So yeah, soon the pictures at my desk will be down. My neat files in my PC be deleted (I'm a geek, geek, geek) and maybe I will take down that little sign hanging above my desk that declares my name to all and sundry.

I will delete every sign that I used to be there.

It's easier to move on then.

We all move on.

I'm glad I won't be seeing someone move into my space.

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About 20 hours ago, somewhere during the night, I dreamt of my favourite band U2. I was at a concert and I was trying to get backstage. I remember excitement and know I was there not just as a fan, but as a media. I remember being nervous.

A few hours ago, I walked back home (from the Woodlands MRT lah) instead of taking the usual feeder bus.

The stars were out.

I have not seen so many stars in our night sky for so long.

And the full moon was illuminating everything. And I saw three stars lined up in a straight row.

I felt like lying on a field and staring at them till I get caught up in eternity.

I'm glad to be alive.

I love you, Lord.