thedoughnutman

<sup>Luke 12.

22</sup> Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. ²³ For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.²⁴ Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! ²⁵ Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life^[b]? ²⁶ Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?

²⁷ “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. ²⁸ If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! ²⁹ And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. ³⁰ For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. ³¹ But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

³² “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. ³³ Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. ³⁴ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Often, there are only a few men, if any, that a boy looks up to more than his own father. 

I love my father. I don't know if I ever said this to him, but he is the rock of my life. Everything else in the world can become senseless and a puzzle. But I know I can always rely on my old man. 

He fixed my radio-controlled car for me. He bought me green peppers when I told him I loved them (even though it turned out that I referred to a different green pepper). He brought home toys whenever I called him at work to tell him how well I did in school. He answered every of my call even though he was running a business that demanded all of his attention, listening to my trivial questions about school and math and science. When I got older, he gave me everything I wanted. He blessed me with everything I wanted in life. He provided for me and cared for me, more than a father, when my mother wasn't around to be a mother. Yet despite everything, he doesn't ask anything of me. Nothing at all. Except that to know in my conscience and my character that I grow up to be a filial child and a mature man. There is really no other man I look up to higher than my dad. 

I wrote before about a dream that I had about my father. A dream that he was on a white linen hospital bed, with many tubes around his nose and his face. What was scary about that dream was that for the first time in my life, in my sub-consciousness, I felt what it was like to have a dying father. 

I cried all night. I woke up with tears soaked on my pillow and dripping, still warm, from my eyes. I rushed to my parents' room and checked if my dad was still there. Pa was indeed still there, sleeping soundly, if a little disturbed from my mum's running television. But he was there, he was healthy. You can never imagine the relief rushing over me, then a young boy, then a boy who didn't understand that dreams could just be dreams. 

The same feeling welled up in me again today. In a rather unexpected way, it hit me like a wax figure waking up to find he is actually a real person. My heart trembled and my voice became lame. Suddenly, I felt emotion. The emotion that was lost, or hidden, or that lay dormant all of these weeks. They all came out in a prayer to God. 

I couldn't believe how praying brought out all of these emotions. I was never touched the way I was touched when praying before. Maybe because I was speaking to my sister. Maybe because I remembered my dream. Maybe because the dream suddenly felt like it could become a reality. 

I am scared, I am worried and my heart is heavy with burden. God touches you at the very time when you feel He is most absent. For that few seconds in prayer, I was certain God was with me. I am not sure what he did, but maybe he allowed me to release what I've held back for so long. I could also feel his consolation to me and my sister. 

But alas, dealing with this has been probably one of the most difficult things in my life. Holding on to God's promise like a thread from an unwoven rope, it feels like I am but drained of all hope. But if that thread is still there, if it still means God's holding onto the promise as I am holding onto it, I will never let go. 

I wish with all my heart that papa will know God just as I do. That he will put his trust, his cares, his pains to Him. Because even if this isn't all real, if it is just a human's imagination, I know that it will help him get through this. But I know this is all real. So I am still holding on. Believing. 

The ingredients of a good shower:

1) strong torrential flow of water

2) QTHW - Quick To Heat Water

3) Shape and landing pattern of water

4) Thick, absorbent towels 

5) Good shampoo and soap 

Wynn Las Vegas, you got this nailed. 

Mulholland Drive, LA. 

Vineyards at Napa Valley. Beaut! How can this be winter!

Vegas is a prison. 

You have the best hotels, the most comfortable toilets, the most accessible entertainment - but it's all fake. In fact, if you're not in it, gambling and living the 'G6', it feels like behind bars. The people serving you start to eye you with their 'where's your money' look, you realise that you have to pay for every single thing (money withdrawals, water, wifi) and the worst thing is, there's absolutely nothing to do at all.

So it sounds good, yes, the big hotel rooms, the limos and all. But I am trapped! Get me out of here!

Well, apart from that, the past few days have been good. Nick and Gerald and myself now have our own 'favourite' songs, Nick's being Levels (I absolutely hate it), Gerald has the song that goes 'yellow diamonds in the light...' by Rihanna, and mine, 'Young, Wild and Free'. It's all rubbish of course. We don't actually like the songs (except maybe Nick), but they are played so very often throughout the trip that we joke that we like them. I take particular interest in Young, Wild and Free, because it's 100% bullshit. 'So what if we smoke weed, so what if we get drunk, so what if we get.... that's how it's supposed to be, when you're living young, wild and free'. What a stupid, senseless song!

In a bid to try to add some reality to this superficial place that is Las Vegas, we went to the Hoover Dam today. Now that was good. A real monument! 

Now here's hoping the next few days would pass rather quickly as we head back to LA again... 

Oh and, Merry Christmas to everybody! 

Things just don't go our way sometimes.

I know it doesn't go my way more than I would like.

For example, my botched laptop battery order where I might as well say goodbye to my 43 quid. All down to a stupid incomplete address.

Or my lack of time to do what I want, which is just to wander around aimlessly, probably searching and finding a gem or two to find greatness.

Or that I always bemoan my situation, where I stay, what I drive, how I live everyday, like it's a bad thing.

From all of these things it is quite easy to see that I am not one who lets go easily.

Sadly, I am also not a very accomplished completer.

Whatever happened to my days where I used to time my schedules to the very minutes, and then abide by them like it completes me? I am afraid that is all but lost. As if I don't know who I really am anymore. Can I really trust my judgement about who I am? Are people to judge me and am I to believe them?

Many questions. At the moment, I am quite revealed to the reality of the world... Under the shelter of family, home and familiarity, things seem a lot easier.

The badness of the world has always been turned away from me. Now I face them alone. Well, some time or another, I will have to face it when my family isn't around anymore to protect me.

Guess it's all in the learning, right? And also about trusting God, that he leads only if I am willing to follow.

Sorry if I haven't been a very committed follower.

I have signed up myself for a lot this term:

Finance Society
Motorsport Club
KPMG Case Competition
Hult Global Case Challenge
KCL Leadership Award
OCF Retreat

I know I said I wanted to maximise my school life, but is this really too much?

OK, your Mac is superior. Now buzz off.

Before I officially became a student of King's College London, I never did pay much attention to what sort of school I'll be going to. 

London? Sure. Just give me a course I want to do. 

I didn't think much about school culture, what the school stood for and what school spirit is evident. That is a most ironic situation, because unlike most other people, I do dwell a lot with the school brochure.

I love the feel of the paper chosen for the brochure, the font, the writing style, which tells so much about the school. Or at least how it wants to market itself.

You know what the thing is with most UK schools though?

They don't have any imagination. They don't have any inspiration. They follow mediocrity and stick to it. 

Perhaps it's because of the budget cuts that put them off from progress. But that's how it is. Well, at least for my course that is.

I won't conceal any disappointment. I am utterly discouraged by my course, the way it is taught and the way we are trained as university students. 

Lectures are driven by largely unmotivated lecturers, whose content is, although useful, is very much like a written piece of what is actually happening. You read it but you don't get to feel it. 

The tutorials are staple, standard and usually the tutors won't disagree with what you say either. Everything is good or insightful. 

During a school sports competition, barely anybody turns up. There is no school spirit. How can King's dare to even say there is one? What I see is mostly people going to the school mainly for its reputation (how it gets it I don't know), and sadly, reputation is shallow.

Now I know how it feels like being in a supposedly good school but with poor quality teaching. And the feeling is worse than being in a lousy school with lousy teaching. 

There, I said it. Ok, maybe with some exaggeration. But it's the truth. Don't be fooled by the name rankings. Go with your heart. 

Wished I performed better in SATs...

That said, I am not complaining. Don't get me wrong. I love my time here. But it's London primarily, not the school, that's keeping me occupied. 

And I am sure God put me here for a reason. I have made good friends. We go through the same things together. Perhaps, we might look back and laugh next time, wondering why we thought so much about the school in the first place when it is the people that really matter. And that's where I feel comforted - I have made really good friends here. People who drive Ferraris but still only have four t-shirts in their wardrobe. People who care about God and about the people around them. That's what counts.