supLise!

31.05.09 speech:

"Surprise!

I hope that you 2 had a good time in Sydney and a pleasant flight back I want to say, before anything, that it's an absolute honor to be here today and be a part of this milestone with you guys, and of course with everyone else.

And an even greater privilege to be able to share with everyone and just express how your lives, both individually and as one, have made a difference in my life.

T-Sue - you're a bundle of joy and encouragement, always eager to see where I'm at in life, with God, always ready to as the right questions to guide and support. I want to say thank you for being you.

T-Ren - you astound me. you've got answers to the questions before i ask them, and you seem to know how to riddle them for me to learn. I thank you for being a great teacher and friend. Thank you for being you.

I thank God dearly for both your lives.
thank you again, for contributing to helping me become the person i am today.
As friends and family, i love you both heaps."

T-Ren, T-Sue, Happy 25th.

Deivi.

milestone

delayed post, but valuable all the same.
to those of you reading this who don't' really know or don't know a great deal about my childhood, there's a few things i need to clarify, to help you understand why this is so meaningful to me.



growing up, anyone can tell you that i was always closer to my father, than my mom and still am.
my father would push me, discipline me, beat me and very often put me down, break my spirit.
the thing that was hardest to accept, i guess, was that despite all of this he would not let anyone so much as look at me wrongly. and yet from what I've heard and from spats over he years I've learned that i never copped it half as bad as my sisters did, and i was worst.

my father was a hard man, took a lot to make him smile, laugh, enjoy, it took him a death to shed a tear. and nothing was ever quite good enough to need his support or encouragement.

i remember, end of grade 2 (for me) at home, getting ready for the certificate night, I'd run to my father and say 'dad! dad! i finished grade 2, aren't you prod of me?' again after grade 3, grade 4 and onwards, around about year 7 i stopped caring what he thought.
it was always the same answer, a cold 'yes.. yes.. good boy, now run along' type of thing

end of year 12 i thought, 'I'll wait til the end of the night, if he doesn't say anything then I'll ask him.'
end of the night came, he didn't say anything. so i asked. again, same reply (minus the 'run along' part, i think he realized I'm a bit old for that now.) i chose not to contest it and left it at that.

2 Sundays ago, however, i was translating, and i honestly can't express what came over me as i did, the words i was speaking were speaking to me, and as i looked over from the upper room, i saw my father wiping away tears as he listened to my translating. among others that day, my father came up to me and told me he was proud of me, that i had done a good job and that truly God is using me here.

its a 19year old milestone.
why it's taken me 2 weeks to write about it - I'm still having some trouble with it sinking in.

- Shmavo

white eyes

ever had a dream, so real, that you could say you were conscious throughout it yet had no control over the circumstances in that/those particular dream(s)?

"how would you explain colour to someone who was born blind?"

now i don't know about you but i heard someone speaking about a man who was born blind, the speaker used various examples to, i guess, express the difference that sight makes to one's life.
how it affects conduct, speech and among other things, but by far above all these, understanding.

"how would you describe a rainbow to someone who was born blind?"

i woke up in a dream. felt real. touch, smell, noise, felt like i was really there.
some things were a little distorted though, as dreams and nightmares often are.
i felt a burning sensation over my eyes, like there was a spicy veil of pitch black under my eyelids.
i remember that in my dream, like something from the film cloverfield, there were some short, vague 'cuts' and 'clips' all muffled of what i assume would be memories (that arent mine, or are yet to come)
in my awaking, i got like a sudden jolt, in which came the realization of relationships, friends, circles of life, that in reality arent, or arent yet.

(i understand if you decide not to read on from here, it would almost seem im writing out the plot of a horror movie, but again, i want assure that this was a dream i had, the start of it at least, and what i remember at that)

as i got up, my vision wasnt changing at all, desperation came over me, like iv never felt before, so much fear, so much change, it was a lot to take in.

"how would you describe a beautiful, clear, cascading waterfall to someone who was born blind?"

in my dream, the next thing i knew, i was in a bed again, different, uncomfortable and to make things weirder i was tied down without a trace of memory.
the difference this time around was that i could see...kinda.
i saw in 'cuts' and 'clips' the reality i was in, in between was darkness, void.
the turn around of my dream, was with the person sitting by me, holding tightly to my right hand.
from the vagueness of what i could capture, i heard some indistinct murmuring, and in the midst of a blur, her face. so unreal and yet real. such radiance, beauty, hope.. (her name i wont disclose)


when i woke up (for real) my face was covered in tears, my pillow was wet of them, my throat was sore as though i had been screaming for days on end, and my heart, racing, such exhilirating desperation i've never felt before.



i wonder, how many people go on living each day, with sight and yet no vision, with a face and yet no identity, so filled with life and yet know no purpose

from hope of life to life

every one's got their good days and their bad days and its normal i guess, happens to everyone..
i on the other hand, hehe, tend to have my good weeks and my bad weeks, days arent really an issue unless its one of those weeks, you know.
the point im getin at is that as you can see from my previous entry i was straddling the fence in regards to life and existence, reality and my reality, and for you who have so willingly invested your time in reading this piece of my inner sanity- if during that time i offended or pushed away or anything like that, i just wanna take this opportunity to apologize for my ignorance towards you, or your life ,i ask that you will forgive me and in time come to trust me again and also know to please oh please give me space when i ask for it, i hate to insist.

on a happier note you could say, one day, some time ago, i woke up on the right side of my bed (in my reasoning i actually flipped my bed around so that my right side would now always be my left).

since then little events have been coming up that i guess are encouraging me to continue moving up in my life's totem pole, i assure the bottom's not a nice place to be.
it all started with moving churches. something that had been on my mind for months was finally coming to pass, it was hard to leave.
the transition was smooth, however, somehow i always knew i'd be moving the question was when- i took the time to attend this new church every so often meet new people, make friends, contacts, get a task, the whole shebang.

since the official move to life, i re-arranged my sleeping quarters. changed the way i hear things, the way i see things (im talking about my sound system and now DUAL SCREEN :)) and im making use of the tools and knowledge i have one of which led me to meeting the funniest bloke out of the west mr. Cano, soon after meeting him i found $50!! steelers won the 43, kez returned, list goes on.. , so many things have been happening like i even got a job and and stuff [that i was predestined for] and yea its just been an awesome past 3 weeks. and i wanna say none of it is my doing, none of it is deserved, i thank God for what he's doing in my life and thank all of you who put up with me through this roller coaster i call life haha.
















may you be excellent, dude & party on.. til my next entry.
-Shmavo

simply another perspective away

'where's your head at?' -a song you might have heard of (by basement jaxx), something i used to say to my sister back when i first heard those lyrics, a memory triggered by my current mental status.
last couple of days, weeks to be exact... it's like i've stopped caring. stopped caring about almost everyone and almost everything.
the people that i used to love talking to now jsut seem to blab on, others are in a mutual situation where it's greetings, minor small talk followed by an on going awkward silence.
i can't seem to put a finger on 'why'. funnily enough i recently finished reading this book over the holiday season and something that stood out to me was selflessness. something i didnt struggle with as much as i do now.
as i mentioned, i dont care about what people have to say, it doesnt really bother me how they feel, how they slept or what happened today, i may ask as an act of civility, il make my body language appear interested, use the 'yea' 'oh-ok' 'mhmm' but in actually fact thats not whats going on inside... i have even learned to retain some information, disregard other information. now my problem is that i was sure that i had dealt with this, truth is i had. i gues as seasons change and cycle, so has this issue come back. evolved. see it's not about the different faces anymore, now its the one face, the one i've learned to manipulate and gets easily irritated.
here i am blabbing on, talking about how i dont care about others atm, if you're still reading i admire your patience, thankyou for your time and pray that i may someday be able to repay you for the time you've invested in reading this.

David.

a slice of my influences

it started with a joke, 3 actually. the first one, a trademark of my jokes. i co-founded it with an old friend of mine, Michael. I was 10 at the time, he was in his early 20's. only 7 people (8 now- and more after reading this) know that i know about this. fewer remember this incident, for some reason it was never spoken of again. i can't think of why, i wish i had more details. it would definitely put my mind at ease.
The Joke goes "What do you call a dog with no legs?" A:"whatever you call it it won't come to you" or something along those lines. not very funny, more of an 'oh is that it' type of joke, but at the time it was the funniest thing i had ever heard. the second joke pretty rude so i wont say it and i can't believe i remember it..
the third, i've been trying to remember for the last couple of years. one day, when i remember it i'll be sure to blog it.

between '99 and '01 i was attending an american church that was beginning to establish itself in australia, Melbourne I believe was the 4th (in australia). Victory Outreach, founded by Pastor David Wilkerson, you might have heard of him through the story of Nicky Cruz, who've written books and made movies such as "The Cross and the Switchblade', 'Run baby run" 'Treasures out of darkness'.

In Melbourne, from the states, Pastor Ed was in charge. second to him was a fellow i only knew as 'Beto' and few other who extended their help from time to time.
Pastor Ed and I were the best of friends, i recall at one point he called me his "right hand man', an honor to me. we used to go out hiking, rent out movies, go to highpoint (where i originally met him), i used to go over to his house for sleep overs and he'd regularly come over for dinner and stuff sometimes just for the sake of hanging out. it was the time of my life. i remember he had this guitar which was kinda out of tune. but he'd play it anyways, and from memory- he was pretty good at it, for a beginner, i used to tease him about it haha, there was this noise he'd make with the strings as he switched chords i used to think it sounded awful, now that i play, i think it sounds really cool. i remember he also had this massive hotwheels and matchbox collection, it was his hobby, and he'd give me one or 2 every now and then, which was pretty cool. something i never noticed tho, he always gave me his favourites. i remember the house he was living at, "the home" , belonged to a guy who had killed his wife and then committed suicide in the corridor, apparently blew his brains, i remember there used to be tiny specks of blood on the ceiling and some of the walls. and theres just so many more countless stories and times we spent together that were so meaningful to me. in all this time we spent together i dont recall him ever teaching me anything, however, he did everything in a way that i was able to observe, follow his lead, i admired him and i learned. i can honestly he played a big influence on who i am today, service and commitment wise.

VO's ministry was aimed at those who didnt have much hope of life if any. those that lived on the streets, drug addicts, womanizers, cripples people, people who really didnt know where their next meal was coming from. because i stayed over heaps and i was almost always there- i was privileged with the opportunity to meet all kinds of people, different people. some had different personalities on different days, but always made an effort to be 'normal' keep things g-rated when i was around. and im thankful that they did. i dont know if Pastor Ed briefed them about me before i got there or whatever but, despite the types of people i felt safe. always.

and from everyone that i met i learned something, something that i think about most days. Beto taught me about family values, respect towards my parents, honouring my parents, behaviour and conduct. Mike (different to the one mentioned earlier- this mike had blue eyes and had a bad memory) he taught me that there's humour in everything. he taught me that 'laughter is the best medicine' when i first met these people i was a bit forgetful of their names, but i always remembered mike, so i'd go to him and what everyones names were again- one time he commented and wondered if maybe i was on drugs coz i was the one with the bad memory, funnily enough that never got old. Nigel he was 2 faced (im not being judgemental- this is me discerning) when i was around he'd be all cool and stuff, keep to himself, but i remember, he was always watching me. and he was a thief. he stole things from me, my sis, and my brother in law.when we went to confront him about it, her fled, never heard from again. i thought i saw him not too long ago, made eye contact and he went a different direction before i could say anything. who knows, maybe it wasnt him.
Speedy the chicano who had been shot in a drive by, couldnt move his left arm, used to love seeing me, we talk for ages and was always kind and always prayed for me, he taught me to be thoughtful, he taught be to pray, and i learned from him that a having a disability doesnt doesnt make someone useless, he moved forward everyday, he praised God everyday., he smiled everyday like it was the last day on earth. there was a really tall bloke named David, who i dnt really remember much else about, Jim- he loved bike riding, enjoyed hot dogs and was always always in a great mood.and a vietnamese guy name Viet, who loved martial arts, loved God, and used to pick play fights with me. he taught me how to defend myself.

finally, the best friend i had- Michael.a heroin addict, insomniac. he literally never slept. i knew him for 3 months, for the first 2 and a half his eyes were constantly irritated, and bloodshot red.Michael was always happier when i was around he enjoyed hanging out with me and i remember that there we these times where he'd be really annoyed, wouldn't speak to anyone- but he'd make an effort calm himself and talk to me. he would tell me jokes and stories and was always interested in what i had to say, always asked me questions and stuff, there was never a dull moment.
from what i was told, and also what i choose to believe, after 3 odd months in rehab ("the home" was rehab - for men, the women's was in sydney) he got better. he got saved. he was clean and he was to start serving God.first thing he did was go and speak to his former drug dealer (from here you can believe what you want) i believe he went to tell him about how he got better, i believe he went to tell this guy about Jesus. i think he genuinely wanted this drug dealer guy to experienced Christ.
following morning Michael turned up dead, overdosed. that hurt me deep.
I learned from Michael make an effort, when you feel your worst, strive to be normal and then force yourself to do better than that, and don't do it for yourself.

i had a dream once when i was about 5, and i always remember it, and i always will- i was in a scout hall, with some guy, and a another friend who was roughly my age and it was us three and we were having a chat.
5-6 years later that happened, same friend, same guy, same place, same conversation. Michael was that other guy. and the friend was Marcos.


there were more people i met during this period of time, these were the ones that mattered to me. and wherever they are now, they matter still. always in my prayers.
i heard a few years ago that Pastor Ed found himself a lovely woman, got married and had a daughter.and Jim, speedy and beto r back in the states. i wish i still had contact, i wish i knew more.

David E.C.