Merrily Christmas.

"She's non-stop, isn't she?" A man commented as I swiftly took his plates, flashed a smile, and rushed off to the kitchen. I was able to catch a last glimpse of his conversation before I freed my arms of dirty dishes, and loading them up again with fresh, delectable food for the next table. "A constant hard-worker, alright," The other man agreed.

Inside, I laughed at his remark, though I could see where he was coming from. As I set the dishes on a table of hungry friends, I was off to yet another table, asking their preference of drink. But it felt good to be constantly working. I knew in my heart that the purpose of this night was to serve, and serve only. However, I could come up with a better reason to throw myself into smaller jobs, partially lightening the load of other's service needs. Being idle gave me time to think, and that was something that I really was not up for.

The constant chatter by peers overthrew me, distractions that would overwhelm me, and envelope my mind in some sort of distraught need to be in their position. Footfalls from behind me scared me, raising hope of someone I would actually want to see, someone who could take me and erase the lingering thoughts that constantly reminded me of my downfalls, compared to everyone else. I knew that keeping my mind on the job would allow me to have myself distracted, and purposefully swerved through cramped spaces to serve, clean; so that everything would be focused on the guest's satisfaction.

And I suppose it worked. The thoughts were unavoidable, but they did not expand, and they were not further analysed as I sung gospel whilst making my way through tables, chairs, and 5 second conversations that I'd wished could have lasted for ages had I not whisked away. At least it was never awkward with them. There would have been a lot of things that I'd regret, not talking more, as I slowly realised the amount that I'd missed them. But there were other times. And this was the one night that focused on the joy and contentment of all guess attending a God-glorified Christmas Dinner. Praise God for a successful and beautifully fun evening.

Furthermore, I thank God that He allowed me to constant working where I could have been crushed due to envy, pride, and selfishness. And that any sign of that, though led to stress, was overall extinguished as I sang praise.

Good God, good night.

LOL, Sarah.

Joyful, Joyful.

Crammed at least 3 lessons worth of theory, about 4 hours of theory, and an unstudiable section into a full written 1 hour exam that required all information learnt. Owned. Thank God that all exams are finished.

Exposed the feminine side of Sarah (I'm not a real boy anymore ;[ ). Dresses and heels? That's hot. Thank God I didn't fall over.

Prayed for protection whilst being alone walking back to Church from Footscray. Thank God for His constant hand upon me.

Preparations for a joyous Christmas dinner. Stuffing 10 people into a 4 seating table. Thank God we're Asianese (aside from a very special few ;]).

And the day was done.

LOL, Sarah.

BFFLs.

Low Battery
You should change your battery or switch to outlet power immediately to keep from losing your work.
Who said I was doing work? GG'ed.

---

"Bye," she waved towards me as she let him guide her through the forest of people in the shopping complex. I forced a slight smile as I waved back in disbelief. I stared after her until she was lost in the crowd; until I was engulfed in the midst of busy shoppers consisting of angry parents, crying children, and people concentrating so hard on their business I would have tried to hit them, just for fun. But I didn't even take notice of anything; that is, until a few nudges became heavy pushes and annoyed grumbles that finally knocked me out of my fazed stare into nowhere.

What of it now? You'd already gone. All logic and reason was abandoned as soon as you grabbed his hand and followed him to a world beyond what you believed in.

I walked away from our rendezvous point, ignoring the constant bickering in the midst of what must have been at least 100 people seeking to satisfy their hunger and quench their thirst from a busy day's shopping. I kept my head down and concentrated on my journey home, swiftly evading bustling bags and busy feet which threatened to flatten my own if I'd taken a wrong step. Anything would help, if only to keep my mind off the long gone memories of his non-existance.

Though perhaps I'm just too clingy to you, and that I can't accept that you had a life too.

LOL, Sarah.

Analyse it.

"Charlie, you know I love you." "Alan, are you breaking up with me?." - Two and a Half Men. It's the best shiz ever yo.

---

"Oh! There's Bulla Road! But wait... we're meant to be in the city before we get to DFO... kay I'm going straight." My mum squinted at the large directional signs that were meant to aid in reaching our destination. That obviously failed, as we ended up swerving around villages that I never knew existed. Luckily, this time was better than the last, where mum had driven me to Melton and back. Great job, mum.

"This is wrong... where are we Sarah?" My mum was so confused when we'd ended up on some bridge on Bell Street. "Why don't you have any directional sense? Why can't you help me? I don't know where I am!"

"Not my fault, I don't know where I am either. And I don't know directions..." Mum was good at pinpointing my flaws and emphasising the need to improve them. She shot an apologetic glance my way, and patted my head. I turned away as a sign of resentment and distaste for her display of affection towards me, though secretly I was only hiding my laughter. I couldn't help but laugh when we went the wrong way.

Nevermind, we ended up at DFO. I sighed, and greased my mother off for a short second, before opening the door and getting out, making sure that I'd gotten completely out of the car before closing the door. Here's the catch. I didn't hear the door close, when I pushed it behind me. It was a strange thing, and I'd noticed that usually when you close a door, there's some sort of slamming noise that follows, even if it's a little delayed (which in my case, it was). As I contemplated why the door did not make any effort to create noise when I'd closed it, I turned around, thinking that maybe it was closed anyway.

Great work, Sarah, your height managed to get you a nice bump on your eyebrow due impact of the corner of the car door when you turned right into it.

---

Alternative explanation.

---

I got out of the car and closed the door, thinking that it was strange that the door didn't create a slamming noise when I did so. Fair enough that the corner of the open door precisely stabbed into my eyebrow just as I'd turned around to walk towards DFO.

---

GG'ed much? Haha.

I'm sorry for the really bland blogs lately. I need to read more. Maybe that would help me keep my professionalist writing nature up. Any ideas?


LOL, Sarah.

Script.

This really should be posted as a YouTube video, but you know, I don't make videos; I don't know how to edit and all that know-how, but yes. I just wanted to share a little something.

Hi! Guys. My name's Sarah, but you can call me anytime. Kay don't, and that was a lame as joke that I'd just ripped off my friend. SO. I was watching CommunityChannel before and she was talking about how when we were young we used to do all these love-compatibility tests and stuff to see just how compatible we were with... anyone. I was like, 'Oh, yes, I remember!'. And now I've just remembered that some came up to the high 90's! ;) And yeah, but I don't remember who they were. Not that it matters anymore, it's just funny, you know, and like... yeah.

ANYWAY, so I decided to try it again. And I'm like let's see who- OH CRAP. Nah man, no ain't writing his name down. Noo way dude. But no wait, it'd be funny. And besides! It's just a joke, and something stupid (I have these really weird arguments in my head, I like, talk to myself when I think.. it's strange). But I concluded that it's just a joke, and it has NOTHING to do with anything, and it's also just... yeah whatever. Not serious. Not a coincidence, whatever the result either. Just, whatever, you know! And then so I wrote our names down... and realised that I'd forgotten how to do the 'lurve' calculatory thing. I just stared at our names for a while... thinking 'hm, maybe you count the numbers that the letters are valued at (as in A=1, B=2. etc) But I couldn't be bothered. It would take too long. And then I remembered... and I was like 'DUH MAN, just count the number of letters!'

And so I started off... and I added.. and GUESS WHAT?! Guess what it was! Omg man, seriously. *Whispers* 94%! NINETY FOUR PERCENT! That is soo lol. And I laughed to myself for a while. Then I'd realised that I really do need to throw this paper in the bin. It's a joke! A JOKE DAGNAMMIT. No coincidence. No. That's wrong.

But 94%! Bet you can't beat that, huh?! I bet you still don't know how to do it properly huh? So I win.. No I don't, that's so wrong.

Anyway, that's all that I wanted to say. It was just really funny. And sort of disturbing... But yes. ;)

This really should be like a video, not writing. Writing does not see the humour in this... and the expression that my thoughts concoct @_@.

That's all,

LOL, Sarah.

Contemplate life; love.

"Time to go home!" My father bellowed through the corridors of my cousin's empty house. His words were almost slurred; attached together when he'd spoke, and it didn't help that his english, though well practiced, still had an unstable accent between Vietnamese and Australian. It's obvious that he'd drank a fair bit, and I wasn't certain that I'd wanted my father to drive us home tonight.

We'd reluctantly pulled ourselves into the car, and my brother insisted on driving, despite his lack of L plates. Upon doing so, he was lectured by a not completely sober father about the dangers of a learner driver on the streets, and how much trouble he'd get for not having his L's up. Dad tried to convince us that he was still in control, as he manoveured the car out of the driveway and into the dim-lit streets. On a number of times, dad leaned forward to catch a clear glimpse of what was ahead of him, and occasionally he didn't drive completely straight; however, we made it home safely.

It was cold, and dark, but I was comfortable. Despite a few unnatural swerves, I was given time to think over the radio music buzzing in the background. I could finally straighten out the thousands of unsettled thoughts in a period of about 10 minutes.

It was quiet, and I contemplated all that was life. Today had a slightly different mood as compared to previous days; it was less vibrant and exciting, and moreso calm, as if I'd lost the energy from a hyperactive week. Actually, I probably was worn out by the nature of this week after all. I continued to replay scenes, episodes of this week: exams, conversations, friends, problems. One was outstanding, though I refused to think more of it. It was an awkward conversation, and something that I'd definitely didn't see coming. I traced my thoughts around this topic, and concluded that I was very excited for the near future; the end of highschool is near, and I am now open to a huge change: gain and (God forbid) loss of friendships, university, and the world of dating. I still hold fast to my policy, and it still rings true that I am most definitely not ready for any kind of commited and intimate relationship whatsoever. I've concluded that eventually entering into that stage would be awesome and a significant other would be God-given, despite my harsh disagreements in present times. As the end nears, I must admit that I am looking forward to exploring new choices, new changes.

No, I refuse to loosen the hold that I have to my policy, and most likely will continue it on. However, I am excited in what God will bring me to next. I'm steadily focused on God, as He will bring me through tougher trials, harsher pains, all to develop my perseverance and stretch my maturity and faith for His glory. And for that, I'm thankful.

Thoughts continued to resound in my head like a loud debate for only myself to participate in. I was happy with the conclustion that my affirmative had come up with, though I'd had no time to hear out the negative as we pulled up in front of my house.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" My dad laughed.

LOL, Sarah.

Absence of God.

"Let me explain the problem science has with Jesus Christ." The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.

"You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"

"Yes sir," the student says.

"So you believe in God?"

"Absolutely."

"Is God good?"

"Sure! God's good."

"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"

"Yes."

"Are you good or evil?"

"The Bible says I'm evil."

The professor grins knowingly."Aha! The Bible!"He considers for a moment."Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help him? Would you try?"

"Yes, sir, I would."

"So you're good...!"

"I wouldn't say that."

"But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't."

The student does not answer, so the professor continues. "He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?" The student remains silent. "No, you can't, can you?" the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.

"Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"

"Er...yes," the student says.

"Is Satan good?"

The student doesn't hesitate on this one. "No."

"Then where does Satan come from?"

The student says, "From...God."

"That's right. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"

"Yes, sir."

"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything, correct?"

"Yes."

"So who created evil?" The professor continued, "If God created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principle that our works define who we are, then God is evil."

Without allowing the student to answer, the professor continues, "Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?"
The student says, "Yes."

"So who created them?" The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question. "Who created them? There is still no answer.

Suddenly, the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized.

"Tell me," he continues on to another student. "Son, do you believe in Jesus Christ?"

The student's voice is confident, "Yes, professor, I do."

The old man stops pacing. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"

"No sir. I've never seen Him"

"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"

"No, sir, I have not."

"Have you ever actually felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelled your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."

"Yet you still believe in him?"

"Yes."

"According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?"

"Nothing," the student replies. "I only have my faith."

"Yes, faith," the professor repeats. "And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith."

The student stands quietly for a moment before asking a question of his own. "Professor, is there such a thing as heat?"

"Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."

"And is there such a thing as cold?"

"Yes, son, there's cold, too."

"No, sir, there isn't."

The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested.

The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain. "You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, unlimited heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit up to 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise, we would be able to go colder than the lowest -458 degrees. Every body or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-458 F) is the total absence of heat. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat, we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."
There's silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer. "What about darkness, professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?"

"Yes," the professor replies without hesitation. "What is night if it isn't darkness?"

"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?"

The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester. "So what point are you making, young man?"

"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with, and so your conclusion must also be flawed."

The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. "Flawed? Can you explain how?"

"You are working on the premise of duality," the student explains. "You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it."

"Now tell me, professor, do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"

"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."

"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"

The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester, indeed.

"Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist but a preacher?"

The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.

"To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, let me give you an example of what I mean." The student looks around the room. "Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?"

The class breaks out into laughter.

"Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelled the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir. So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?"

Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. "I guess you'll have to take them on faith."

"Now, you accept that there is faith, and, in fact, faith exists with life," the student continues.

"Now, sir, is there such a thing as evil?"

Now uncertain, the professor responds, "Of course, there is. We see it everyday. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil."

To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."

The professor sat down.

What's brown and sticky?

Shut up, the pain doesn't need to spread.

Friendships are like trees. There are rings of life; filled with memories that define what we are now. They grow layer upon layer as we bond over the years, distinguishing the hard times from the best. Sometimes there isn't a very stable branch in our friendships, but that's snapped off easily, and a stronger one replaces it. The blossoming of our friendships is so obvious as onlookers look by us, intrigued at such fruitfulness in our friendship tree. We've developed a steady foundation in good soil, and we continue to branch out, and we distinguish ourselves from other trees.

But I think there's just one thing that's stunting our growth; we're almost completely hollow. Other beings have interveined our friendships; distracting us from growing together. These beings make a living out of our friendships, and it feels as if we're being used. Or well, at least, one of us are. But I cannot grow without you. I need you to put in your side so that my side won't cause the tree to lean to one side. Eventually, it would fall down without your contribution. But don't worry. I'll only go as far as you'll go. I won't pursue growth if it's not your desire. Because I only want what's best for you.

An expression of my thoughts.

LOL, Sarah.

Possimistic.

Time to update you on why I've been saying such profound messages at such irregular intervals between my blogs. I think I've said at least one per month... But yeah, it's one of those really off moments right after one of those blogs that you read and go 'oh dear, she's gone off again. PMS much? I shall stay away from her for now. Until she cheers up... or something'. Yeah, don't, keep talking to me. I'm an interesting person... I think :D. Anyway! About those quotes... lately they've sorta been leading towards one thing that I'm currently quite passionate about: Change. Change! What a strange topic for me... Because I usually don't like change. Heck, who does?

Haha, it's funny how I type, because it's as if my fingers are the thinkers, and not my brain itself. Although, my brain is the one that controls my fingers, and not myself; thus I am voluntarily thinking about what I'm typing. But it's just so on the spot and like yeah, like I commonly say LOL a lot and stuff and like yeah. That was a hardcore spasm of the typical teen talk. Sorry about that.

Change. This whole year for me was a huge transition; getting into Senior School, doing subjects I actually enjoy, and maybe studying for some of them. WELL. Just recently, I've been inspired so much to involve myself in so many things. Not really. I was contemplating a lot in what I was given the opportunity to do in school, for example: public speaking, debating, performances, leadership applications and roles, etc. And yeah. I didn't actually do anything this year, but man oh man, I've been getting so many ideas for some reason. I have a profound quote that I could use when I apply for house leader next year (note that I used WHEN, so count on me to apply for the position ;), and I've already got a topic for public speaking, which I think will be quite interesting, because it's relevant to everyone. Now, I'm not going to tell you either of these things, because it ruins the surprise. I've only shared my quote that I'd made myself to 2 people, and I'm slightly regretting that already. I've told one of my friends the topic on what I wanted to speak about for public speaking, but who knows? It could change. I'm not telling anyone else though. I just hope it turns out funny, interesting, and intriguing. But yeah.

I should have said that I applied for something, and YA TA I GOT IT!

A lot of people say I have potential. And yeah, I do. I think everyone does. It's what you do with that potential that determines your stance.

And all this is why I love school. I love the opportunities that are given to us, and the benefits of developing skills for the future, which will come sooner than expected.

And you're probably wondering why I'm being so skeptical about school. I mean, it's the most dreaded part of life, because you always have to do work, and be forced into situations where you're under pressure and stress. I think that's true, and that part kind of sucks. But we have to be put under pressure, we have to persevere if we want the best of us squeezed out of us (thanks for the olive analogy on Sunday, Colin :). Also, did you realise... that this year is almost ended? I've now only got a bit over 2 years of school life left. And right now, I regret so much that I'd wasted the previous years of my life. That's why I made the choice to seize every opportunity, grasping every benefit with both hands and running with it towards the goal. It's a sprint, because it's so short; it's still beneficial, and it's my one last chance to be a nerd, a scene, an attention seeker, a teenager. It's my one last chance to make the most of my childhood before the task of adulthood.

Ever since this choice has been made, I've found all these ideas and inspirations. Praise God, eh, that He is so good that way. When we make the choice to be open to opportunity, God opens the doors to opportunity. Amen sistuh!

Anyway, it's actually really late, and I should really be sleeping. But I will be typing up the rest of my speech now.

Until next time,

LOL, Sarah.

(Something important that you should know. I'm placing it down here because I don't know where else to fit it in. I'm currently undergoing a speech writing phase, as you can obviously tell by my lack of descriptive, intricate episodes of blogs that I tend to overreact in, and a steady increase in blogs which seem like I am talking at you or to you... whatever. I don't know the difference... soo. You'll find that I'm actually writing to you, the reader, instead of expressing my thoughts through a medium of creative writing. So sorry, if you don't like it. I'm sure I'll get out of it soon enough. Meanwhile, I'll keep ya posted!)

Lala Love.

I squeezed my stinging eyes shut, before turning again to the luminating light in front of me. I contemplated for a while what to write; I hadn't figured it out beforehand. Strumming on the keys of the laptop, I confided in the previous hours of my day, gazing through the screen, replaying scenes of what I could remember. Perhaps I could write something about that.

... Nah, that'd be too boring. I shuffled through other memories and past times, but nothing seemed outstanding enough to be able to expand, explain, and exaggerate.

---

There's a change. Seize the opportunities, and make the most of now. Today will be yesterday as soon as tomorrow comes around the corner.

LOL, Sarah.

Picture Perfect.

"You make me want you."

If I didn't love Jesus, I'd be swearing my head off right now. I would have punched a dozen holes in the wall, broken a table, and thrown a chair across my room past the rainbow dividers to the desolate other half of my room. My eyes would have been blood red and too asian to even recognise that they were, my hair would be mangled as if there were a cat fight in the midst of it, and my eyeliner would have bled out from every known angle that man has discovered.

But there's an awkward silence right now. You don't know what to say to all this. Here I am, contemplating the difference of my life without My Love, and you read on, astonished, bemused, critical, and devious. (I used words beginning with the alphabet for emphasised effect). There's really nothing to say about it. 'You go, girl' is kind of off-putting, because it's obvious that I'd lost all sense of feminine aspect of myself in that spur of overloaded impulse. 'F-oath, you're emo' is not specific enough, let alone hypocritical. Who hasn't cried themselves to sleep before? In fact, I want to slap the next person who does, and tells me about it. Back to what I was saying.

Then again, I'd realised this: If I didn't have Jesus, none of this would have ever happened. My life would be completely different. I wouldn't think this way, talk that way, and act another way. I'd probably be a slut, but then I'd probably never even met half the guys I know now. I probably wouldn't give a damn about school, although regardless, I'd still do well (haha, hate me, suckers). I know one thing though- you'd expect filthy, dirty, words from the overflow of my heart through my voice with every second word I'd say. Why? It's an epic battle in my head to swallow the vomit from my heart so that I'd avoid making a mess of everything, and anyone around me (yay, an analogy; think about it).

So I'm pretty happy with that. I thank God that I am who I am, because it scares me so much when I'd imagine myself without Him.

And it's obvious where I could have let my spew out in this blog right here.

'All my friends turned away from me. Now, give me your damn attention, and help me pick up my broken life.' - It's hard not to take your friends for granted, when OBVIOUSLY, they're not listening to you, isn't it?

"You make me want you". Please darling, I love how dramatic you make my life feel now, but there's a point where it's getting really stupid. You're pretty far ahead of it now.

Over it, over you.

But then again, you're not really over it, are you; when you say you are? Because when you're over it, you're regarding 'it' as the thing you're over. Hence, you're still thinking about 'it'.

Sorry for the irregular blogs. I try to keep my life interesting, but sometimes, it doesn't want to.

LOL, Sarah.

There are no knobs on my guitar! Argh!

Ex-Best Friends.

It is so painstakingly heart-wrenching that something so good could cause so much controversy. More of a certain desire exposes the perhaps superficial nature of a very similar other. Why? That constant reminder of a particular failure, fear, lack of communication and trust in attempt to tear down a barrier I'd put up so long ago. I'm sorry dear, it's not coming down; only to Him, perhaps.

But why is it there in the first place? Simple. Third wheel. The stupid nature of the third wheel. It almost doesn't have a purpose, aside from perhaps helping to guide the way for the other two that actually matched together.

---
Somehow I'd found my way next to you. The night was dark, and suspended above us were bright lights to guide our way. Not that we needed it, of course, for there was such a large crowd going towards one direction: home. And we were part of that crowd. The quiet landscape glimmered of the river we walked beside, and bright city lights that would have taken my breath away had I seen it the first time. It was a beautiful evening; an evening spent with you, and I would have not traded it for the world. The one time ever with only you, and not our other 'best friend'. This was a night to remember, but little did I know that it would have the greatest impact on my life.

I scanned the city landscape as we chattered on. Our conversations were a constant bickering of jokes that you'd heard, and lighthearted laughter that rated the hilarity in those jokes. We'd conversed about our day, our passions, and our life. Everything that was on our hearts would spill out of our mouths, like a shaken bottle filled with 90 emotions and unheard thoughts. I'd felt so much closer to you, walking so closely beside you, shielded by your strong figure against the shadows that passed by us. We continued along the sandy shores of the riverbanks, shuffling our steps in the sand, until we encountered a bridge, large and wooden and sturdy, enough to hold hundreds of people at a time.

I smiled at you as the lights above us shone upon you, revealing a shimmer in your eyes, and some sort of quirkyness from the corners of your mouth as you spoke, laughed, and smiled with me. I so desired to be closer to you, to hug your arm, but I quickly retracted myself as our grainy footfalls suddenly became solid and hollow as we found ourselves at the entrance to the bridge. I turned forward, and leapt up to the side, where a small wall shielded us from falling into the dark gloom beneath the bridge. I used your shoulder to help myself balance upon the beams, and then pretended to be a tightrope walker who was suspended on the thinnest of ropes that reached the heights of the Rialto Tower. You laughed at me as I stumbled and tripped over my feet, hovering close beside me, supporting me like a sturdy crutch whenever I lost sense of direction when I attempted the difficult task of looking sideways towards you and continuing forward. I'd almost fallen on you, when you grasped my hand to steady my balance. Upon throwing you a thankful glance, I saw how suddenly fragile you looked under a different shade of light; where your eyes ceased to glimmer for me, and your grin was reduced to a faint curve. I was completely overthrown by your sudden change that I almost fell over, soon after giving up on the walking beam afterwards, just as we reached the end of the bridge. Balance didn't matter anymore; I needed to concentrate on you now.

We landed on a conrete path shortly after stepping off the bridge, and our surroundings suddenly darkened. The trees beside the path swayed over us like lingering shadows threatening to engulf us in darkness. It was here that you'd shown me how you really felt. I searched your face for an answer to your fallen face, but I found none. Instead, I found the overflow of your heart spill out of your mouth; words that were so stupifyingly wrong and so illegal that I was blown away. I knew in my heart that you were foolish to even think of those things about our 'best friend', but I was so insecure about our friendship; anything that you'd said, I wanted to agree, so careful not to hurt, upset, or humiliate you. You stared at me expectantly, and I'd eventually realised that you were seeking a response. I forced a hesitant 'mhm', and we continued to walk in silence. My heart burned for understanding, and so desired to ask you why...

But I'd change the subject.

Little did I know that one simple train of thought, followed by the exposition of truth could affect our friendship forever. Who knew that the slip of words could change the level of trust in the rest of my relationships for the remainder of my life? You didn't know better than to trust me, and I was so young, foolish, and desperate to be approved by my two best friends that I held so dearly in my heart. Both of you defined the meaning of best friends, and I ruined it for you, though I cheered on the sidelines so desperately hoping you'd see me. But who could change the actions of a child who knew nothing better than to agree, and then break that level of trust by sharing one simple piece of information that changed me forever?

---

Funny, I hate reminisce. Study and sleep have given me little time to think. That's my excuse for producing fairly downgraded blogs.

LOL, Sarah.

Heart on the Ground.

And it lay there, simple as it was.

Hero Heroine.

***PRIOR WARNING: DO NOT READ BRACKETS IF YOU GET DISTRACTED EASILY. READ THEM AFTER YOU HAVE FINISHED READING THE MAIN BLOG... THING***
(This is really the first time I'm actually writing for an audience as if I'm speaking to them... well first one in a while, since I've only really been posting blogs about me venting. Anyway, enjoy :D. (You better not have read this if you get distracted easily... haha!))

I'm sure everyone has heroes/heroines, inspirations, aspirations, role models or admirations, whether it be your best friend, leader, celebrity, parents, or even your pet. Heck, I'll even give you your favourite TV show. But I'm sure you get my drift, that everyone has someone or something that they look up to. But why? I'll tell you why.

When you ask someone who they look to and why, they usually first tell you who they look up to. That's plain and simple. Now, many times, I've seen, heard, read and watched people tell about their heroes/heroines. The reasons as to why their role model is their role model are usually given about how amazing they are, how they've impacted the admirer's life, how utterly perfect they are, and the skill in their talent or their beauty and grace in the choices they make.

Why am I talking about this? Quite frankly, I actually have no idea. But I suppose I do have a simple point to point out (pardon the pun). I myself have a few inspirations of my own. They range from my friends to my family, and maybe one or two celebrities. Now I also must say that these people inspire me so much because of the choices they make, their talent and skill, and their passion for what they do. They are all simply amazing people, and I would not ever trade them for the world, and neither would I allow myself to be swayed by what other people say, do or think about these people.

However, I do find one simple problem in this. I'm not sure about other people, but I find myself almost mimicking those who I look up to (hence, the picture, where the monkey mimics the human, or the other way... something like that). Since I'm readily talking about the picture, I would like to elaborate on my choice of image (I never use pictures, do I? Ha). Now in this situation, you can see the clear difference between the two figures. One's a monkey, the other is a human. Simple enough, isn't it? Yet they are both doing exactly the same thing, which is from what I see hooting or calling or kissing the air... you get where I'm coming from (post comments about what they look like they're doing, yeah?) Moving right along, I believe that in many ways, we are the same as, shall we say, the monkey, who is trying to be like the human (vice-versa, you have it how you want). This picture tells me a lot about how we are with our role models. No, actually, I think this moreso relates to me. This paragraph is getting too big (I'm tired, bare with me (LOL, my paragraphs slowly get bigger... sorry)).

What do you think is a more appropriate description for your feelings towards wanting to be like your role model? Cute? Creepy? Admirable? Cheap? I think it's cute. Why? Because I find that with my role models (I don't know if it's just me or not, but anywho), I mimic small habits originally taken up by my role model. For example, 2 years ago, my youth group met up with another youth group, BASIC, who were a majority of Philipino youths. Since then, I've adapted to calling the older guys kuya, and saying 'ay nako' as a replacement for the typical Vietnamese 'aiyah!' (how fob, haha.... I miss them). Cute, isn't it?

I suppose so, but sometimes I think it gets kinda creepy. Still, I don't know why I do it... maybe it's because I want to be just like them, yet I don't want them to know... OR maybe I just like what they do sometimes, and I adapt it into my own behaviour so I could be constantly reminded of them (this is slowly getting creepier by the second). See what I mean? It's kinda making me feel like I'm an obsessed, needy little girl who can't let go of her ultimate inspirations and seriously needs to learn how to be unique. But yeah, I'm sorry if I seem to be mimicking you, but after reading this, you'd probably feel a bit better, knowing that you're probably one of my role models...

NOT! (Haha, I made the not joke) Jokes, haha, but seriously. o_o.

Anyway, on a more serious level. I've also come to realise (this is first hand experience)that my role models are the ones that I compare myself with the most. It sometimes inspires me, but at other times it simply makes me hate myself. It's a continuous challenge of 'how can I be better' or 'I should be like that, so why aren't I'. It's especially hard with role models that aren't even that much older than you; they could even possibly be younger.

This is coming to be quite confusing to me, because role models are examples who have done their best, to encourage others who are like minded in interests, hobbies and talents to strive for that standard or even better.

Okay, maybe this doesn't have a point after all. All that ranting was done for nothing. I hope you got something out of it, reader!

LOL, Sarah.

PS, If I'm staring at you, I'm most likely simply intrigued by you.

Good friend.

I stared at his withdrawn figure icily, before turning to leave. This was too much for me to bear, I could not look at him any longer without wanting to seriously hurt him. My jaw began to shake violently, and in an effort to stop the rest of myself from shaking, I snapped it shut. I forced my fingers through my hair, almost ripping the very strands as I balled them into fists. I stuggled to keep myself calm as I inhaled sharply. I refused to exhale again, and I turned around and headed for the door.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I grasped for the handle, and forcing the door open, swinging it to the side. It hit the wall beside it with a loud smack. The door would have almost swung back if I hadn't almost punched it back against the wall again. My body shook momentarily in reaction the second bang, but I quickly took control of myself, squaring my shoulders and stepping through the doorframe. However, I could not manage to pull the rest of myself through. I was frozen midstep, fist on the door, facing away from him, for fear of needlessly hurting him more.

There was a dreadfully long silence between the two of us.

"I'm sorry..." A fragile voice floated towards me, followed by a step and a creak from the hollow floorboards. I did not move; my muscles tensed, and suddenly I feared cramping and collapsing. But I disregarded that thought as I concentrated on my situation. It wasn't him that needed to say sorry, for there was nothing that was his fault. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to expose the tension and anger from within me. He was the cause of my frustration. So many thoughts ran through my mind as I debated against myself, defending him, blaming myself, and prolonging the eery silence. Suddenly I couldn't hold it in any longer.

I furrowed my eyebrows in an attempt to refuse tears from fleeing my eyes, instead choking as I suddenly gasped for air. I'd forgotten to breathe.

Another step closer was taken by him. My heart almost ceased, and I froze again, but only for a second so I could cntrol myself. A single tear escaped as I tried to compose my face, and I hesitantly turned back towards my best friend.

My eyes widened as soon as I met his gaze. His face was streaked with tears, so broken and hurt. His shoulders were slumped, as if he'd given up, and his eyes stared into mine desperately for forgiveness... and help. His expression confused me. There was nothing for him to be sorry about. But soon I realised that he was sorry for something else, and I bit my lip so hard that it almost broke under the pressure.

I stifled a sob, and managed to word out a simple sentence.

"It was never your fault, I just haven't been a good friend". I stared pleadingly into his eyes for forgiveness, before collapsing under the door frame, crying my heart out into my hands.

---

I just realised, that a lot of my stories have no thoughts. This took ages to write.

Enjoy,

LOL, Sarah.

Shalala.

Declare the promises; Open the doors of opportunity; And out of the floodgates of heaven will pour out saving grace.

You gotta know it to believe in it; you gotta believe in it to declare it; you gotta be certain to be faithful.

:)

It was cowardness that made me push you away. I was so afraid because you were so much better than me.