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.

before now. (X

*in generous continuation of the last post (because I know you want it)*

And then there's this girl.

:)

They'd look cute together. :)

But.

The End(?)

I don't think so.

I'm only truthful when my eyes are closed, head is bowed, lying lips are shut tight, knees are on the ground and thoughts on the heavens.

So. You can't believe a word of the story I just told.

Because the truth?

Well, nobody knows.

And nobody's going to know.

Okay la, okay la. There are people I'll tell. :)

Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes is currently on a few-months/one-year vacation. So I'm left to fend for my inner ****** self.

X)

imu. imu. imu. imu.

iwu. iwu. iwU.iwu.

ilu. ilu. ilu. irlu.

WHOOPS. INU!!!

see-saw syndrome. let her push me off.

Um.
So.
There's this boy.

:)

2010. It's here. To be honest, I'm not in the mood to think of a pep post. Or even to be prepped up.
It's just another year.
Definitely not a boring, uneventful year. Not even a nice, smooth, easy-going year. Or a depressing, melancholy year.
A year of lessons. I have a lot to learn.

Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

2010. It's going to be different. Very different. But beautifully and chaotically so, I'm sure.
Am I ready?
I will be. =)

It's the Return of...

Bad Sammie, bad.

Stop grinning like a loon.
How are you going to be able to deliver any emotion other than idiotic happiness if you're smiling to no end? Aaron Matthew cannot afford to have asthma attacks and Aunty Pat cannot afford to have heart attacks every time you need something depressing like that to make you cry.

Stop picking at your calluses.
Do yourself a favour: take Joshua's advice and leave your fingertips alone. Especially when you think you're calming your nerves and it's really just self-destruction.

Stop being punctual for practice.
What a waste of time. You already know no one else shows up that early anyway.

Stop adhering to proper meal times.
It'll only serve to give you gastric pains when you can't eat at designated times.

Stop being so lenient.
Better to be over-protective and safe from fear of anyone laying a scratch on your darling than to start crying and laughing hysterically when you find out Jude knocked your guitar over or when Joshua snapped a string. And remember not to believe people like Nicholson when they tell you it's fine, because he's probably just trying not to upset you by lying to you like everyone else planned to do.


I thus conclude the SIC Youth Rally of 2009 was AWESOME. X) Like everything else that is.
I'm so proud of the 09 outreach team for giving God their all. I'm equally proud of the CT and graduates, knowing how much we've had to do just to get through. It was a world apart from last year. =] And that's perfectly fine with me. Better food, perfect weather, so much less of...what you're getting now. X) Even if Dancing with the Lord was way potong. It just gets bigger and better every year. Even if everyone is getting so much tinier. And I thought I was the small one. XD
Another year. Over. 2010, here we come!

Dear Santa,

I'm not sure how good I've been on your scale and I don't know how much I deserve, but there's only one thing on my wishlist this year, and I'm sure it's not too much. If you can't deliver it to me at midnight on Christmas Eve, it'll be okay. I'd be satisfied if you could just send someone out to buy it for me. All I'm asking for is a full set of new, high quality, not caplang or ciplak guitar strings. The ones on my baby are totally warped. Shouldn't be too hard, right Santa?

And while you're at it, I'd really appreaciate a box of chocolate-centered, sugar-coated donuts from Dunkin Donuts. Fattening, I know, but hey, for the amount I've been stressing this year, I think I could use a little bingeing. Don't worry, I'll share them. But I think you of all people could do without the extra calories, Santa. You have to be able to fit into the chimneys of people who actually have chimneys.

Guitar strings and donuts. Just to drill it into your brain.

Loves,

Sammie.

with Red Eyes, what am I looking for?

I want to be in love.
I want to smile every time I think of you.
I want to feel butterflies in my stomach when you look me in the eyes.
I want to dream of you and wake up in a good mood.
I want to be able to trip over my own feet just because I'm thinking about you too much.
I want to be giddy and reckless.
I want to act like a normal love sick teenageer.
I want to giggle about you as I whisper your name to her.
I want to be asked what's wrong with me.
I want to wonder whether you like me too.
I want to want you.

But I can't.
Don't you understand?
It's killing me because I don't want to know. I want to be stupid and ask why I can't have you even though I know the answer to that. I want to be blissfully ignorant instead of being so understanding that I don't have any reason to ask questions.
Being on the other side of the other side is rewarding, but what rewards also frustrates me to no end.
It may have been scary to know how much they know and see how much they see, but it is even scarier to know like they know and see like they see.

You don't understand. You're not on the other side of the other side. I can't make you know what I know and see what I see. You won't understand. And you can't. Because I wouldn't try to let you. If one day you wake up and you do, then good for you. But not now.

I love you. Too much to want you.

i'll get those trophies one day. X) when you're gone.

It doesn't matter.
That this is the reason of all the worry, headaches and stress in my life.
That this is why my heart would cry me to sleep every night if my body weren't too exhausted to keep my awake.
That if it weren't for this I wouldn't be falling sick every school holidays.
That if it weren't for this I'd have actual holidays.
That sometimes I hate my commitment so bad I feel like just quitting and leaving and never showing my face there again.
It doesn't matter. Because I know it'll be worth it.
Not the stage glamour. Not the being able to be driven out to dinner and lunch everyday. Not the being able to get out of my house. Not the knowledge and wisdom and experience I'll gain from it.
It's the fact that they are my second family, and that this is the family God is going to use to touch hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of life repeatedly.
That's the worth of it.

Oh, Lord. I'm so tired. I just want to rest. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Rest. But no, it will never come with the desire to do Your will.
So I'll just have to deal with it, won't I?

I found my answers to my own questions and quests.
This is scaring me.
Heck, everything is scaring me.
Like being "older". Realising. Knowing. "Seeing". "Observing". No, I don't like those words. I like "sensing". Mine. :) But I guess everyone has their way of describing it. Or at least, everyone who knows what I'm talking about does.
So elite. But you aren't elite unless you've paid the price, the cost of carrying that responsibility.
It's like truth. Terrible and beautiful at the same time.
It's like you. Terrible and beautiful at the same time.
It's like all my problems. Terrible, but when you look at it carefully, placed in such a situation that it resounds in such stunning beauty.

Bad Sammie, bad Sammie! Tsk. What were you thinking? Blogging. While you could have been editting your script, or packing, or sleeping, or eating more Tiger biscuits. Or finding a cure to the terrible pain in your throat. Or changing all the mp3 files to audio since he burned it in mp3. Or downloading more "answers". Bad Sam. Bad.

My conscience is nagging me to make better use of my resources. Ish.

I'm not ready! But you better be!