the nice thing about bringing home a cake is opening the box and looking at cake inside. and cakes are all pretty nowadays. when i pass by cake shops i look at cakes for the heck of it. however poor nuh begawan solo is so predictable. predictable cakes are boring.

anyways i felt bored on friday and decided to pop by Raffles City and get some doughnuts. there's this doughnut craze in singapore. or rather there has been a doughnut craze for some time already. first it was bubble tea, then it was fancy unpredictable bread. now its doughnuts. everyone is going nutty about doughnuts.

anyway after getting my doughnuts (which smelt really good, thank goodness i dont work there) i passed by Cedele. and i accidentally saw this Pavlova and accidentally bought it. its so amazing that i found Pavlova here in singapore, its the first time. small happy.

anyway Pavlova is such an amazing cake. its crust is made of egg white and icing sugar, then baked to perfection to a thin crisp that melts in your mouth. the inside is hollow and u fill it up with whipped cream. then to make the whole concoction less sinful u put some fruits on top. fruits are healthy. whoo. doesnt it looks so beautiful.

i think i shld go and learn smth. maybe learn to bake..

relief. i peeped at pp sleeping this morning. he covered the blanket up to his neck and his pillow is beside him. i am glad my pp is handsome. let me brag. i put froggy on his pillow. he likes to hide my froggy and make him sit everywhere. in my heart i was praying so hard tt today's lab results will be clear. it was so so relieving when mama called me to say pp has clear lymph nodes. a weight dropped from my mind.

imagine the countless others whose dr told them tt their cancer has spread. wt then would be their next course of action? would they despair? would the truth slowly sink in, as they suddenly realize wt the dreaded C-word means.

i thank God, yet i still have a heavy heart.

sometimes when u try to stifle hope, it eats away at the inside of u just like a cancer.

my mind wanders in this garden of trist
surreal reality is blanketed by its mist
early morning dew, condense upon green leaves
droplets heavy for flowers, whose posture, bereaved
morning sunlight feebly spreads her warm arms out
the breeze shudders, and swishes with a pout
silent waterfalls, plunge into the depths of tears
yet i walk not alone, the Lord is near