Singapore will once again bask in my presence. Where it has been dark and gloomy, my light shall shine. Breathe deeply, the same air that I breathe.

You cannot hold Johnston within the confines of a box, because his presence will exude through. Hide him in the dark corridors, and still his glory will shine and the whole earth shall see.

You cannot point to Johnston and say "Go far away from me! To the corners of the Earth." Because after walking the whole round, he would be at your back.

He is everywhere. Just not at the same time. But hopefully, where you are, he is too.

"Now sleeps the crimson petal" by Lord Tennyson

NOW sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;

Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;

Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:

The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.

Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,

And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,

And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves

A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,

And slips into the bosom of the lake:

So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip

Into my bosom and be lost in me.

"Come away, come away, death" by William Shakespeare

Come away, come away, death,

And in sad cypress let me be laid.

Fly away, fly away, breath;

I am slain by a fair cruel maid.

My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,

O, prepare it!

My part of death, no one so true

Did share it.

Not a flower, not a flower sweet,

On my black coffin let there be strown.

Not a friend, not a friend greet

My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.

A thousand thousand sighs to save,

Lay me, O, where

Sad true lover never find my grave,

To weep there!

El Roi, the God who sees me

Dear Heavenly Father, You are the God, El Roi, the God who sees me. We have read of Your love for Your Chosen People, and how You watched over them, and guided them with compassion. Like a loving father, You never let them stray out of Your sight. When they turned from You, You were sad. And when they returned to You, You led them with power. And through all that, you were watching over them, like a Shepherd watching over His flock.

And though we are one person in a world of millions and billions, we know, O Lord that you watch over everyone of us. When Moses felt weak, you were there to give him strength. When Joseph was alone in a foreign world, you were there right beside him. When Daniel was in the lions’ den, you protected him. Even the humble Hagar, was within your sights. You saw her, and watched over her. We long for your compassion.

As small as we are, we understand O Lord, we understand your love for Your people. And we pray, Father, that you will love us always, from the beginning to the end, just as you have promised, to be faithful to the end. We believe in your love.

Father, do you see me? Are you watching me? Like a child, I wander through life, confused and naive. I’ll make mistakes. I’ll do the wrong things. Make the wrong choices. I’ll even veer away from the narrow way. Will you be there to teach me Father? To chide me and to guide me? Are you watching me? Father, do you see me?

Father, watch over us. Guide our ways. When we heed your ways, lead us with power. And when we turn from you, never let us out of your sight. You are the God, El Roi, the God who sees me.

Johnston

this conflict of mine

What a hateful man. What a shameful sight. That piteous flop of a man. No doubt there are those who look up to him. A hero of the dregs of society. A star amongst the scum of the earth.

If I could only begin to speak of his crimes. If I could only paint a picture of his dark soul. But I could not, for there is no place to start. A frightful companion he is. He is the string that must be loosed. The needle you'd leave in the haystack. There is no word called responsibility in his world. There is no concept of duty born alongside man. Not in the existence that surrounds him.

He took a job, and said he would do it. One involving the administering of souls. A higher job, ethereal and divine. A job so joyous, yet so abstract from human standards. If one could fully understand it, one would never be discontent. Yet the days came, and the days passed, and the job was left untouched. The souls were left to their abandonment. Alone they were, left neglected.

He claimed a disability and I accepted. No man is fit for everything. And there is nothing fit for every man. And how tedious this job can become, one's heart is not strong enough. It may be joyous, but there are conditions of the heart that must be set fully in place before one can derive the job's full benefits.

Yet he disappeared. Just as quickly as he spoke. There was no consideration for what would happen next. No thought dedicated to what might ensue. The baton was dropped. Merely drop. Nothing more. Nothing less. It took seconds. But we saw it as minutes. Hours. Years. There was some component of shock. More of disbelief. It was a long pause. What happens now?

Does a statement alone, allow us to ride free? Does a feeling alone, discharge us from the duties we long to let go? How convenient that would be. At a word, I can put to rest that which must be done. But we are bound, by the sacred laws that constitutes us, to complete the job, or to find someone to continue the race. Not merely someone, but someone specific.

"If I drop it, someone will pick it up." Who? When? Shall we wait an eternity for this mysterious benefactor? Surely, you enjoy the element of suspense. Surely, you are a great practician of patience. A common theatre scene, that greatly satisfies once concluded. But what of now? What of the people involved? Shall we leave them be? Like sheep left to wander? Perhaps you would have them line of beside you, watching, just watching. For this intensity that would take your place to save them. Why, I have a sudden foreboding of someone's Second Coming. Perhaps it is to your taste, that we practice what we preach.

And when I tried to assist you, you took it for granted that I would take your burdens away in a flash. I was merely there to help you find a solution. You've got a lot of things wrong over there. However did you construe such a outcome? That the moment a toy no longer brings you pleasure, I would be there to carry away?

And yet your sick mind allowed nothing in. No words of comfort, no words of reason. The world had become a dark unfriendly place for you. It was a chore to open your eyes. So you kept them closed, and walked around your imaginations. You rejected kind words. You defiled kind intentions.

If you understood the magnitude of the job, then surely you would also understand the magnitude of the forces that drive it. Would not the right attitude be one of gratitude? Your pains and sacrifices are not the only ones man have to suffer. We too, the engine that drives our establishment, have our pains and sacrifices. We try our best to create a simpler form of service for you. And when you choose to stop, we try to help you. We are all in this together.

And yet you spurned the advances made to bring you peace. Advances built on the sweat and tears of others. You treated therapy as skirmishes. And salvation as destruction. Your absent sense of duty has brought dereliction upon yourself. And now you call the attempts to rebuild you, an annoyance?

The things that must be done, have to be done. How basic is that which forms the foundation of this world. We have duties to perform. And we have to perform them. If we cannot, or choose not to, we find others to fill our place. So that a building is not given only half its pillars. So that our home, is not left without its parents. We build, until our ends, then others take our places. The hammer does not stop pounding. Only the hands that hold it change. The baton cannot be dropped, even if it is heavy. The one who holds it, must bring it to the finish, or pass it on.

The spite that is on my tongue, is bitter as bile. The words you spoke to me, can never be taken away. Your presence amongst us, belittles the stool that holds my weight. The white that covers you, is stained with filth in my eyes.Your contempt for the efforts of others, brings you to shame. Your bitterness, turns you into a sour sight amongst those who care for you. Your rejection of that which is good, makes you the object of rejection.

This wretched pain that stirs within my chest. I am torn to bits by the forces that construct me. The iron hand of duty that is the Notsnhoj, and the hand of destruction that also speak of love that is God. Johnston was the balance between these entities, and the container of the raging conflicts that they bring. Release me! How it hurts! How it confuses!

I am sad. So sad, the burdens on my back, bind me to the ground. I could not explain it, but my arms feel weak, and my knees give way. If I could undo my crimes. If I could undo what I have put him into. I would. How I wish I never let him suffer the responsibilities of leadership. How he grieves. His pains, are my pains. His hate, is my tears.

Yet I am angry. So angry, I could tear this man to shreds. How I wish to destroy him, for the things he left to destruction. How I could shame him, if I would. These distasteful ambitions of mine.

God, help him recover from his wounds. God, help me. Oh damn my sinful estate.

Notsnhoj

The First Testament of the Notsnhoj

This shall be the first testament of the Notsnhoj, spoken without regret. Written upon this unchanging rock, may it last forever, in word, and in truth.

One year ago, I met a girl. With quick wit upon her tongue and a charming smile, she stole my soul and locked it in a place by her side. Perhaps she did not know, or perhaps she did, but it was destined that day that only by her side, could I ever breathe again.

So I will make that trek, that will take me to the place I long to be. To seek to love and be loved, what crime is there in that? It is a route that will take me several years. For I have been displaced to a foreign land to meditate on accounting scriptures. The wisdom of Google Maps advise me that my hike will take me north-west, six thousand kilometers over land and sea.

Now that we on earth have walked the full circumference of the sun, so my heart has reached full bloom. Speak to me anymore of her goodness, and my heart would burst. Whisper to me her deficiencies, and it would overflow with longing. I love her, everything and anything. I would hold her close. And I would never let go, till the day we turn to dust.

Yet there came the day, when a single hand grasped her own. A hand that was not mine. It was a hand I would have shook, any other day. But it was a hand I despised, on that day. A day that was today, the day he grasped her hand. And so my time stands still as I watch the scene before me. I wait and I ponder this. What would I do if the imaginable comes to existence? That that white gentle hand would grow firm in his. That she would gaze into his eyes as one in love.

A hateful scene. There is nothing sweet there. I could pout, I could cry, I could pretend to be filled with joy. But whatever I do, it will not change this. That my chest would be heavier than the sinking sand. My frown would show the many years that I have not lived. It is a bitter thought, and it leaves a bitter aftertaste.

Wait for me. I am only a little away. Let me finish my trek.

Johnston

Walking by the coast, I walk with gentle Mother Nature. Father Sun shines gently upon my back, his warmth courses through my veins. Beneath me, I tread upon the sands, which gently receive my feet. I hear the waves fall gently on the shore, the sound of water searches my soul. I feel the wind surround me, gently holding me close. Then I look to the hills, with its slopes gentle on a child. The gentle grasses they welcome me, my bare feet they comfort. The trees sway gently, softly and kindly they sway. Strolling up the slope, I stroll with gentle Mother Nature. Yet gentler than these, there is one. There up upon that gentle hill, a pavilion surrounded with flowers. There is one gentler that lies within that ring. My lady, she lies within the pavilion.

There is sweet, and there is fair. There is graceful, and there is kind. My lady, she encompasses all these things. These are her, and she is more. Yet these things are a distant memory, for she has not been within my sights. I search for my lady vainly, still I seek with all my heart. Long since I last beheld her, long since her warmth became my own. Now I am as good as blind, my fingers cold, my palms unfeeling. The sight of my lady makes my heart flutter. Her absence makes me frown.

I love and it pains me, because I love too much. How I long to hold her close, to feel her in my arms. Yet just the chance to see her, would be as good as gold.

Now the world and all, awaits our reunion. Look at how the ground quakes beneath. The rivers, they rage in anger. The greater waves throw themselves against endless rock. The mountains turn in disapproval. For they know that this distance should not be. And what has been apart should be brought together. There shall be no smile on earth till our eyes meet once again. No comfort till we are held close. There shall be no justice save the moment our fingers should caress the other’s cheek. No morning sun till our breath entwines as one.

Across that distant sea, I bid you, fair lady, lie beneath that distant sky. That were the sky a great mirror, I might lie beneath mine, and gaze into your eyes. For I will see you in that sky, and I will feel your breath against my neck, for it is carried in the wind.

Notsnhoj