What's the measure of a (wo)man?
Maturity? Wisdom? Intelligence? Kindness? Physical perfection?
What's a person worth?
Beyond the superficiality of how this world judges us, how do we measure ourselves when it comes to what's important? In fact, what IS important?
Opinionated feminist. Does not suffer fools gladly. Sexually explicit. Seriously violent. Liberal use of expletives, so be warned. Definitely not for children :)
Faith
"It is Jesus that you seek when you dream of happiness; he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle. It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be grounded down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society..."
-Pope John Paul II-
-Pope John Paul II-
Flight
Allow me to capture your imagination.
Allow me to inspire you.
Allow me to bring you to heights you've never known before.
Allow me to help you soar.
Allow me to inspire you.
Allow me to bring you to heights you've never known before.
Allow me to help you soar.
NOTE
This blog is an online journal, not so much a photo-blog. I might put up pics of things and places, but not me.
I blog, not so much for attention, not so much for fame, but mostly for Catharsis.
I need a place to write and think. I need a place where I could write to reach out. This is it.
Because sometimes it's easier to talk to semi-strangers, than to the people who knows you. Because sometimes it's less painful to lash out to the world in general than to keep things bottled up inside.
Sensitivity may be over-rated, but sensitivity is human.
If you're a stranger who stumbles unto this, I'm warning you that part of catharsis may be offensive. This blog is personal, it's not written to cater to the tastes of it's readers. I make no apologies for what I think. It's the personal opinion and experiences of one particular authoress.
If you don't like what is written, you're welcome to walk away, no apologies required either.
Let's both be civil to one another.
I blog, not so much for attention, not so much for fame, but mostly for Catharsis.
I need a place to write and think. I need a place where I could write to reach out. This is it.
Because sometimes it's easier to talk to semi-strangers, than to the people who knows you. Because sometimes it's less painful to lash out to the world in general than to keep things bottled up inside.
Sensitivity may be over-rated, but sensitivity is human.
If you're a stranger who stumbles unto this, I'm warning you that part of catharsis may be offensive. This blog is personal, it's not written to cater to the tastes of it's readers. I make no apologies for what I think. It's the personal opinion and experiences of one particular authoress.
If you don't like what is written, you're welcome to walk away, no apologies required either.
Let's both be civil to one another.
Unabashedly Me
I love many things about life. In no particular order:
Faith, religion, belief. Family. Close friends. Acquaintances.
The smile of a child. Affinity with animals.
Faith, religion, belief. Family. Close friends. Acquaintances.
The smile of a child. Affinity with animals.
A good conversation. Languages.
A good swim, a good run. A 3-hour dancing session. The satisfaction of having done something right.
Dark chocolate. Wildflowers. White lilies. Dark red and champagne roses. Good alcohol. Scents. Perfumes. Aromatherapy.
Nice hair. Soft, moisturised skin. A caress. A touch. 5 o'clock shadow on a man.
Pretty underthings. The feel of French lace against silk, silk against French lace.
The haunting poignancy of classical music. The angst and fervour of rock. The sexy innuendo of jazz. The sweaty pulsations of r'n'b and hip hop.
Sunrise at 21 000 feet. Sunset, and moonlit walks on the beach. The feel of sand beneath my feet. Gosh, I had almost forgotten how that feels....Dancing in the rain.
Watching the silver sleet of rain lashing against the window pane, having come out from a hot bath, a steaming cup of hot chocolate (with marshmallows!!) in hand.
The kiss of sun against skin. Long, sultry evenings in shade, iced drink in hand, in the skimpiest outfit social norms would allow :p
The scent of the earth after rain. Dark, stormy nights.
Reading a good book through the night, soft music in the background. Thoughts swirling in my mind.
The boisterous company of family and friends. The painful, but precious solitude of loneliness.
Euphoria. Suffering.
Weddings. Funerals.
Laughter. Tears.
The frail vulnerability of the human heart. The strong flexibility of the human spirit.
Life's many contradictions. The exquisite torture of being human.
In my years on earth, I've learnt the important lesson that: We'll never appreciate the sweet, until we've understood the bitter.
A good swim, a good run. A 3-hour dancing session. The satisfaction of having done something right.
Dark chocolate. Wildflowers. White lilies. Dark red and champagne roses. Good alcohol. Scents. Perfumes. Aromatherapy.
Nice hair. Soft, moisturised skin. A caress. A touch. 5 o'clock shadow on a man.
Pretty underthings. The feel of French lace against silk, silk against French lace.
The haunting poignancy of classical music. The angst and fervour of rock. The sexy innuendo of jazz. The sweaty pulsations of r'n'b and hip hop.
Sunrise at 21 000 feet. Sunset, and moonlit walks on the beach. The feel of sand beneath my feet. Gosh, I had almost forgotten how that feels....Dancing in the rain.
Watching the silver sleet of rain lashing against the window pane, having come out from a hot bath, a steaming cup of hot chocolate (with marshmallows!!) in hand.
The kiss of sun against skin. Long, sultry evenings in shade, iced drink in hand, in the skimpiest outfit social norms would allow :p
The scent of the earth after rain. Dark, stormy nights.
Reading a good book through the night, soft music in the background. Thoughts swirling in my mind.
The boisterous company of family and friends. The painful, but precious solitude of loneliness.
Euphoria. Suffering.
Weddings. Funerals.
Laughter. Tears.
The frail vulnerability of the human heart. The strong flexibility of the human spirit.
Life's many contradictions. The exquisite torture of being human.
In my years on earth, I've learnt the important lesson that: We'll never appreciate the sweet, until we've understood the bitter.
I LIVE. I LOVE. I LUST. I AM WOMAN. I MAKE NO APOLOGIES. AND I REFUSE TO BE ASHAMED.
Nemesis' Paradoxical Quote for the Moment
Ignorance may be Bliss, but Knowledge itself is Power. Therefore, take your pick: Bliss, or Power?
How is it that:
Familiarity breeds contempt, yet
Absence makes the heart grow fonder?
How about:
Opposites attract, but
Like must marry like, or there will be no happiness?
Nemesis' Answer to 'sola scriptura':
1. “So also our beloved brother Paul wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, speaking of this as he does in all his letters. There are some things in them hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other scriptures.” (2 Pt 2:15-16)
2. “So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.” (2 Ths 2:15)
How is it that:
Familiarity breeds contempt, yet
Absence makes the heart grow fonder?
How about:
Opposites attract, but
Like must marry like, or there will be no happiness?
Nemesis' Answer to 'sola scriptura':
1. “So also our beloved brother Paul wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, speaking of this as he does in all his letters. There are some things in them hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other scriptures.” (2 Pt 2:15-16)
2. “So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.” (2 Ths 2:15)
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10 comments:
Boob size. Example A: Pam Anderson. Those knockers are like missiles.
HAHAHAHAHA... well, too bad i havent got a drool-worthy rack :P
A chinese proverb said:
'yan pei yan, pei sei yan'
We can never make a fair comparison between 2 people because we all are different in our own way.
I believe only our love ones (friends and family) and ourselves know our worth. Which is priceless :)
davi: Pam Andy is a good example. after her boob reduction, along went her worth.
i heard the measure of a man is the size of what is found in his back pocket (and side pocket?)
to me, what's a person worth is like how food is being tasted :D
what's the measure of food?
tangy citrusy delicacy/ cream-based pasta/ spicy hot soupy noodles/ bone-dry biscuits/ crispy fried fritters/ heavenly sweet chocs/ fragrant fried thin slices of bittergourd.... :)
one man's meat is another man's poison
the beautiful complexicity of different taste in varying degree that produces an individual esthetic-value scale. well, some ppl like acquired-taste food too.
it's like how we measure the qualities of a (wo)man...
p/s: obviously, i m hungry :P
jl: mmm... yeah, kinda like no two eggs are the same :P
tim: *smack!!* what a male thing to say :P btw, eh... what's in a man's SIDE pocket??? no lahhh... the measure of a man is how barrel-chested he is n how broad his shoulders are and how good he is in bed :P n how much is in his bank account, stocks, bonds... how much does a man carry in his back pocket nowadays anyway? it's all plastic, baby.... ;) it's a plastic, plastic world :D even boobs are 'plastic' (so to speak) nowadays... won't u say? :) not that men will complain, being visual creatures n all... rite, davi? :D
blueroses: OMG.... what a complex response :P
"the beautiful complexicity of different taste in varying degree that produces an individual esthetic-value scale"
HAR? i very the hunger now, i dun understand ;) u let me appreciate the varying degree of a wonderful T-bone steak done medium rare and maybe i will :P
muaxxx.... i think u hang out too much with me, i'm turning u into a PIG. muahahaha.....
dida: his "keys" are in his side pocket. the bigger the "bunch", the more appreciative a woman will be. yes... i believe so...
anyway he carries his plastics in his back pocket too...right?
moreeee postsss pleaaseeee :)
yerdeh
HAPPY NEW YEAR!! HUGS AND LOTSA LOVE DIDA!!
tim: so what about keys? i don't see the connection. big bunch, small bunch. who cares? if he's really so rich, he'd have someone carry his heavy keys for him :P keys would crinkle his armani pants.
yerdeh: :P shaddap, woman :D when i start posting, i'd be drowning u in posts u would hardly have time to read :)
and HUGS :) HAPPY NEW YEAR'S to u too!
ALL OF YOU!
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