BOOST-ed. Thank you, Cadbury Australia!

I'm online and blogging because:

• I don't want to do my BM karangan. No teenager in the world writes about the effects of illegal imigrants to their pen pal in three hundred over words.
• I don't want to do my Physics. Pn. Chin makes it so much more complicated than it acutally is.
• I don't want to answer that email. I don't know what I'm supposed to say.
• I don't want to write the first scene. Shove it.
• I don't want to go YouTube the songs. Shove that, too.
• I don't want to handle anything. Even  though where ever I go, I'm supposed to be handling something.
• I don't want to play. For once, I don't feel like it.
• I don't want to watch the advertisments. Especially when they're in Mandrin.
• I don't want to ask call someone and ask what the heck is going on. Malas la.
• I don't want to start thinking, planning, coordinating. I don't even know what to coordinate.
• I don't want to type out the description of the games. It's pointless if we don't decide what we're playing.
• I don't want to research the background of a martial art for a proposal. But I promised.
• I don't want to revise the songlist, send them out to my team and add another practice.

Thank you, Felix. Thank you, Beh. Thank you, Li Hui. Thank you, Jason. Thank you, Aunty. Thank you, Rachel (even though I'm as guilty as everyone else).
I think I'd have even more to do if you guys weren't around.
Thank you. :) You guys and this chocolate bar make my day. :)

You don't know until you try. Pick up the phone. Ask about dinner. :)

dum-di-dum.

It's just one of those moments.
When I want to be alone.
Okay, I want to be alone almost all the time, but this is a really, really want to be alone kind of want to be alone.
Not like the pissed off want to be alone. Or emo want to be alone. Or crying want to be alone. Or happy want to be alone.
I just want to be alone.
Maybe not completely alone. Just with my red-head.
But that is as far as not completely alone can go.

It's one of those moments.
When I think and wonder why.
And ask God and find Him giving me these plainly sensible answers I didn't have enough sense to find before. Well, He obviously has more sense than me.

It's one of those moments.
When I think about the people I love and care about.
And how I don't know how to value them anymore.
And realize that I've lost them somehow.
And that I'm supposed to move on.
But then, I think I have.
Even if I don't want to.

It's one of those moments.
Where one person constantly fills my mind, no matter how distracted I get.
No matter how distracted I want to be.

It's one of those moments.
When I don't let anyone see me or hear me.
When I let myself out.
When I feel safe.

It's one of those moments when it doesn't matter how good I am.
Because it doesn't mean anything.
As long as it's all I can give Him.
And that's the only thing that matters.

Sorry. I just get into these kind of moods every afternoon from three to five. :)

smileys all over the pages of my next month. =))

What on earth is a social events co-ordinator and event manager supposed to do?
As far as I've concluded, nothing. :)
Besides delegating tasks and making sure the people who have things to do get their job done. :)
The delegating, she's done for me.
So really, I have nothing to do.
Which scares me. I should be doing something...right?
Yes. Fuming at my email inbox Learning...(wait, checking email)...Deeper, Yahweh and...How Could I Live Without You (no, I've never heard the song before).
And the theme song! :)
I like theme songs. :)
Because they get stuck in your head after every camp and bring back floods of memories every time they're played, whether in one week's time or a year later.
Believe me, five times over the course of three days is not repetitive.
Three times in four hours on Opening Nite rocked our Rally. :)
Four weeks of praise and worship. :)
Four times a week. :)
Four bottles of honey? Is that enough?
Oh, the non-stop singing, praying, playing, harmonizing, screaming, jumping up and down (but NO pointing XD).
*wee...!!!* *super smiley!*
So excited. :)

On their website. Wow. This is so damn cool.
We should have our own magazine! X)

Omigosh. Stop Facebook-ing him la. Darren, this is all your fault. No wait, Beatrice suggested the Facebook-ing. Beatrice, this is all your fault.
Seriously. Why don't you guys just hit the "Add as friend" button to finish things off with a cherry on top.

Yay. :) Praise and worship, worship and praise.
Four weeks of letting loose, singing, dancing, getting high on the Spirit, drunk on His lurve and just giving God my all.
With Physics and Bio in between, but then, nothing can kill my mood!
:)

Damn, you are good. :)

two more bottles and then I'll stop drinking. [for now.]

God is FUNKY.

Don't you think so? :)
In an occasionally scary, occasionally pleasing, always surprising, always exciting, amazing way.

Finally finished researching, copying, pasting, test playing, saving and sending.
So I actually have time to figure out what to write under "Discussion" for my blasted bio report think.

But, sorry. I don't post my thoughts here. X)

the little things you did for me.

I apologize if I’ve been a complete pain in the ass for the past four days because I really have not been feeling the week (as of Monday).
It’s not my fault. The week hasn’t been very nice to me either.

But at least in the midst of this hectic, sleep-deprived, stressed-out storm, God has blessed me with a raincoat and umbrella. :)
For the two people who actually managed to make me smile this week, you have my gratitude. Even if I’m pretty sure you have no idea who you are.
You’ll never find out anyway. XP
But thank you. If it weren’t for both of you, I’d be depressingly melancholic to the core.

Still.
God. I know you want the best for me. But this is just – this is just – unfair! I mean, not being able to participate just because no way is the Star newspaper going to even consider sending under--sixteen-year-olds to London. I turn sixteen only three months after the competition! Can’t I just get a reprieve? Well, I totally get that on no account are You going to let me go for auditions and a workshop the weekend before CF Camp, nor am I going to get to skip a couple of days of choir practice just to travel to Europe, but this could be such a great experience!
Fat chance, kid.
Yerr. Yerr. Yerr! *pouts*

At the moment, I’m supposed to be drafting a script outline, researching St. Peter’s Church, memorizing my script and doing my math homework.

Instead I’m listening to the latest single from the band that named my guitar. :) He’s coming with me again tomorrow.
Okay, fine. He’s coming with me every Friday.

Anyway, I was checking Picasa for pictures on the talk and found this:

:)

Two years was a long time ago.

I feel old, man.

We were so small.

Friday, 6.00am – 11.00pm.

Saturday, 6.00am – 11.00pm.

Sunday, 8.00am – 5.30pm.

Hey, I actually have the last few hours of Sunday to do my homework this weekend! :) For once.

And these illusions...I'll make that my next line. :)

Soft-copying.

mmhmms.

On Friday, I woke up at 6.00am.
On Friday, I brought him to school. :)
On Friday, I brought him to church. :)
On Friday...we were dying. Songlist updated by the way. Booting the sad tune we called a song.
On Friday, I slept at 12.00am.

On Saturday, I woke up at 7.00am.
On Saturday, I endured with a huge smile on my face.
On Saturday, I sat through a test talking to Roger.
On Saturday, I left without helping to set up.
On Saturday, I ate a lot.
On Saturday, the mamak guy learnt what roti milo was. XD
On Saturday, bedtime was 12.00am.

On Sunday, I woke up at 7.00am.
On Sunday, Marc announced Take Our Bread as I Offer My Life.
On Sunday, the parishioners sang the verse before we did. They didn't get their way.
On Sunday, fifty-something young people and a few adults learnt how to to keep their stinky feet un-stinky and what Ian looks like with bad table manners. X)
On Sunday, we learnt a new song. :)
On Sunday, Aaron M, Dominic Tam and I stayed back playing "I Spy" until 7.00pm.
On Sunday, I had Pattaya fried rice and Joshua had pineapple fried rice from MJ's at Aunty Pat's.
On Sunday, Rachel kept singing the guys' part of the second song and it got stuck it our heads.
On Sunday, I was sped back home behind schedule at 10pm. It's okay. My parents didn't explode. XP

Hasta luego, blog dear. I won't be back for a while. The website beckons me to go play. :)
He wants my tears. I need these tears. They're our story.

Translucent. Mmph. Wish we were all opaque.