Just Within Reach.

Hide me now,
Under Your wings.
Cover me,
Within Your mighty hand.

When the oceans rise and thunders roar,
I will soar with You above the storm.
Father, You are king of all the earth,
And I will be still, and know You are God.

Find rest, my soul,
In Christ alone.
Know His power
In quietness and trust.

Still - Hillsong

---
It's been a while, given that even when I have ideas, I don't seem to have the capability, or rather I lack the motivation to put pen to paper. Though, you gotta admit, you can't exactly put pen to paper in the shower, or write in the car, especially if the road is rocky...

I know, I know. It's not an excuse.

I'm just experiencing the characteristics of de ja vu, and the only thing different is the outcome.

---
I was always second best, so what does it matter that I begin to give away?

A mountain aches to touch the clouds, its peak barely scratching heaven's waters as it climbs towards its destination. Its robust foundation allows it to stand firm, and in its desperation, even whilst going through singing winds and erosion, the mountainous characteristics are more defined, and more majestic. The process has been slow, and rather treacherous, but the mountain stands in all its splendour, just inches from the clouds...

But how could it reach further? Erosion tickles the summit, and rocks give way and crumble at the faintest gusts of winds.

---
If I dove into the ocean, would you swim after me?

I've done this before; I swam as far as I could, till my feet couldn't touch the ground. My goal was a shining metal ball out beyond the shallow waters, and I'd gathered all the energy I could muster, and raced towards my goal.

The ball floated above the brilliant blue, bobbing up and down as gentle waves lapped against it. It proudly kept its place above the waters, despite the waves threatening to swallow it whole. The sudden power of the waves could only keep that ball down for but half a second, but the architecture of the ball was simply too cunning for the primitive waves.

I was entirely fascinated by the ball; in fact, I was curious about anything that shone or dazzled when it came into my sight. It didn't seem so far from me, and the distance seemed tangible compared to the effort I would put to reach out to it.

The only problem was that I couldn't swim. Despite my best efforts, I was flailing in hopelessness, and in fact, beyond the shallow waters, I was drowning.

And then, would you go after my goal instead of me?

---
I tried!!!

LOL, Sarah.

Ocean's Promises.

She knew it all.

She saw the entire scene as it came. It was played out in her mind, so brilliantly real; almost too real. Patterns raced around one another, darting to and fro across the landscape, and swirls shot from beneath her feet, so quickly, as she dazed up at the clear sky, and watched them reach to touch the blue dome to which they were entrapped. Fields of green surrounded her, stretched across the horizon, and butterflies fluttered from every direction, surrounding sprouting flowers that made the colours of the rainbow. In fact, it mirrored a rainbow, proudly arced across the sky, protruding from a single white cloud. The sun broke through thin slits in the cloud, but it maintained its shape, and the rainbow glimmered serenely in the glassy blue.

This was her dream; her dream of reality, and every night she would wish to return to it, and rest in its peace. This fantasy world to her was her escape from the demands of reality; 15 seconds was all she needed to feel refreshed. It was here that her fire would be rekindled and made bright again, so that she could face a new day, glowing.

But the poor girl, possibly she was greedy this time.

She ignored her needs of being awake, and slipped herself into the realms beyond time again.

The scenery was still beautiful, though the tall, green grass slowly swayed as the distant winds of melancholy passed by. Suddenly the colours dimmed, and shadows chased away the warmth of the sun's rays. Rumbling clouds malevolently replaced the blue sky, engulfing that single fluffy white cloud, pathetic and useless in comparison to the eminent clouds. A sea of black swallowed completely the oceans of heaven, overcasting a horrific darkness that she simply could not comprehend.

All that she had in her dreams was a rainbow, but the flowers were now shrivelled up, hiding under the dying grass, their petals wilting in their struggle to stand for even one more second. The rainbow that so majesticly stretched across the sky was shrouded in black, its colours dissolved in its neverending depth.

Her rainbow of promise was gone, and all that filled her eyes were the thickest black fogs, blurred by her dampened eyes.

She knew it was selfish to pursue, but what else could she do?

---
I was a chain reaction, and dominoes would fall from the very first... never mind how many I would try to take out, I ended up placing more at the firing end.

You aren't meant to be in my pile of dominoes. You should stay away, for all that reeks from me is a violent path of destruction. You don't deserve what I give you.

---
Now, where the hell did this tap come from, and just where is it getting its abundance in salty water?

---
I don't know how to be what comes so naturally to everyone else. Why do I so selfishly seek such depths of the ocean? Why am I willing to risk my life at the dangers of the waves above, and the ever shifting sand beneath my feet?

Why are the waters that I always pass so shallow?

And why does my lake feel so untouched? So mysterious and unexplored... and I don't know how to clarify it.

So, so, so, so so so selfish.

---
I'm sorry.
This is a song that only caged birds know.

Romans 8:28, Jeremiah 29:11.
You are always in control.

LOL, Sarah.

Masked Dreams.

Didn't she look pretty today?

She wandered across the hallways, passing through the corridors, greeting those she knew with courteous detachment. Her smile was light, and her steps were soft and unwavering as she moved towards the lockers. Her hair flowed as others passed her, and she daintily dodged potential minor accidents.

Even so, even her petite movements weren't what caught everyone's eye today. She looked different, and everyone noticed the subtle emphasis on her neatly curved eyes. Thin, black lines outlined the rims of her eyelids, and just under her eye, and her pupil suddenly became more alive, and more vivid. It wasn't that she needed this sudden emphasis, for she was naturally beautiful, her pale skin against her dark eyes brightened up her face already. However, this subtle difference gave her some other, more mysterious, unknown dimensions- power, even- whenever she gazed into your eyes. It was no mistake that she was naturally beautiful, and she knew how to flaunt it.

But none of this mattered to her, because all this only did one thing for her. Her eyeliner hid the evidence of her dying heart crying out to no one in the middle of the night.

---
We lined up in a single file to enter the bus. It was rather small, and inside the tinted windows, I could make out the silhouettes of lengthy sofas, and a widescreen TV at the top front of the bus. I squinted my eyes so that I could see more, but the driver growled at us, and began to herd us onto the bus. I was the second to last to get on, before you, and I lazily moved forward in line as the others slowly moved into the bus I grasped at the sidebars for stability, and I pulled myself into the bus, almost lurching into the driver's seat.

The bus seemed more like a ball room than a bus. Chandeliers hung low, their dim light creating a warm atmosphere. The wallpapers were a flowery amber, complimented with a chocolate brown which rimmed the corners and edges of the interior. Long, yellow sofas stretched across the sides of the bus, and complex images were plastered across the windows. The carpet had a dreamy sort of softness, and its olive tone lightened and darkened as us weary passengers loaded ourselves onto the bus, filling it from back to front.

There weren't many people on the bus; two couples, my cousin, you and I completed the guest list of this luxurious ride. Although the sofas looked ever so tempting and comfortable, I settled myself at the front of the bus, sitting on the floor and using the sofa only to lean my back on. As my eyes inclined towards the TV, I noticed your figure stand beside me, and I turned to see you settle yourself beside me. My breath shortened for but a moment, and I turned down the volume of my iPod. The blaring music came to a sudden stop, and I began wrap the cords of my earphones as I responded to your soft, caramel voice greeting me. I fumbled as the cords seemed to fall out of my hands; the only thing I kept a steadfast hold of was the iPod itself, where its metallic orange finish slid neatly between my fingers. My fingers slowly tangled in the mess I made of the cords, and I heard a hearty chuckle beside me. I turned to grease at you, and I watched you smile right back at me. I didn't notice as your hand extended towards mine, and you began to untangle the cords for me. I tried to decipher your actions as I stared into your eyes, and thoughts rumbled through my head as I questioned your strange behaviour. Soon the cord was completely untangled, and you lined your fingers with mine, where I held the iPod, and you began to reel in the cords around my iPod. You wrapped the cords around our fingers, causing them to intertwine*. The palm of your toned hand was warm against the back of my pale, icy cold hand, and your fingers caressed my palm softly, drawing circles in the palm of my hand.

I could not comprehend what was happening, and your actions contradicted your wondering eyes; they were isolated and distant, and turned towards the TV. I stared at you for a while, and eventually turned back to the TV also.

We sat there for awhile, just gazing at the blaring television, until I sighed softly, yawning. As I threw my head back, I hadn't noticed that your arm crept its way behind me, and my neck curved easily into your arm. I shivered slightly at the sudden warmth of your arm, and hastily lifted my head up again, quickly shielding my eyes with my free hand to hide my embarrassment. With my peripherals, I caught you with a slight smile, and you began general conversation with me, as if nothing had happened. I responded to you wearily, trying to work anything out in my mind. I simply could not understand, but you helped me to forget, and eventually gave up and conversed with you.

Though before I knew it, your arm slipped behind my back, and you placed your hand gently on my waist. You shuffled a little bit closer to me, and leaned your head on my shoulder*, whilst responding to my previous question. You tugged at me, prompting me to draw nearer to you, all the while you continued to shuffle a little nearer to me, until our sides were aligned. In my horror, I attempted to throw off your hand with my free one, but as soon as I grabbed it, my muscles went weak, and my nerves tingled as you slowly wrapped your fingers around my hand*.

---
There was more than this, but it's so pointless.

LOL, Sarah.

*remember.

Untitle Me, Please.

I was wrong about you.

You didn't cut me deeply, and you didn't leave a scar.

You're a tattoo, painful to create, and painful to remove.

I've tried to remove the tattoo for a while now, but the sketches of roughly what I dreamed it would look like are still there.

Whilst this tattoo may be gone, this blueprint will last forever.

A reminder of everything.

---
And I praise You in the storm, for even though I don't know where You are, what You're doing, and what You're saying to me, I know that You're still in control.

Bless.

---
I've changed significantly, and looking back on today; entering through the doors of what my life was and is again, familiar faces passing me by, loud murmurs and general conversation, I found my heart build back to its usual fortress.

I was a mystery for a while, and I still am... to the world, and everyone in it.

In my little fortress built with thick bricks of concrete, I found my heart. It was fine, I suppose. In fact, my heart was normal, and my fortress was stronger than ever.

My mind at battle again.

---
And this is why I don't know if I can blog for a while. I don't even know what to write.

LOL, Sarah.

Why must I be so selfish, so greedy as to want to seek more in everything? Must I overthink? Must I long for more? Must I remain a mystery to all those around me?

Hope In Crisis.

He was a righteous and devout man, unwavering in faith, and splendidly humble and modest. His lips spoke none but wisdom, and his actions complimented his words with such grace and compassion. To all, he was merciful, and his genuine love overflowed out to the hearts of the broken. He was a good man, no doubt; a man whose love for others was preeminent in prospect. His mercy was boundless, and his passion overrode all else.

Though I couldn't help noticing that behind all his grace, all his mercy, and all his love was a heart so hidden in the dark...

Shattered and crumbled, with cracks in its walls, his heart struggled to stand, let alone beat. He was heartbroken, and it was inevitable that these cracks would show in between the wrinkles of his skin as he smiled and laughed.

It led me to question: how could someone so graceful, so devout and so loving be so crippled and broken inside?

But it was the only way he knew to live. In order to see grace, he felt he had to give grace. In order to see mercy, he needed to be merciful where his enemies were in his grasp. And finally, in order to see the love that he so desperately cried out for, his compassion for others must be of unconditional love, direct from the overflow of his heart.

And it was amazing to see someone so broken, and so incomplete be so graceful and generous; in his incompleteness, he was whole.

But by the grace of God...

The love that he gave was the eternal love that was gifted to him; poured out from the cross.

Unwavering and focused, he never looked anywhere else.

---
Perhaps I won't blog often anymore...

LOL, Sarah.

Nonsensical Utters.

We can duet now!

Our love traps and suckles at the life of their hearts; caving in, hollow.
His love redeems and gives life to the broken; healing, overflow.

---
I exquisitely held you in contrast to my emotions, that what I felt, I felt was unimportant, but you, on the contrary were still an everflowing stream of water that glistens under the sun; you could never be seized. The glass vase that I would attempt to hold you in could not bottle you up; instead, it would burst into a million shards, and you would overflow, stronger and more beautiful than ever.

Although perhaps this wasn't the worst thing, my vase had been overwhelmed by your entire being, and it had no affect whatsoever. I was still there, and so were you, only I was in a million pieces and you were flowing in every direction, covering every surface you so much as touched.

And I'd come to the conclusion that what I thought was so significant, so important and so intriguing to me, is in fact no longer, for I no longer see through my vase, but from every shard of perspective possible. This therefore brought me towards an unshakable belief that nothing mattered anymore.. nothing of this mattered.

---
Yeah, it's all just nonsensical stuff now. I love that word.. nonsensical. I love that it's a word, and that out of my lack of vocabulary, I decided to make it up whilst I was in a sac, hoping it'd be an approved dictionary word.

AND GUESSS WHAT! IT IS! WOO.

Orange ukulele is so fun (:
Dress is so pretty (:

---
'YOU ARE GOOD! ALL THE TIME!
ALL THE TIME! YOU ARE GOOD!'

It ain't about what you're doing, it's about who you're praising (:

LOL, Sarah.

Inquisitive Eyes.

It's not that you're at all special to me, because you're not. It's that to me, you're just special.

As Amy's currently feeling, as am I. I no longer feel such a need to blog anymore >_< even as much as I would like, it's just not so important to me as it was, probably last week. It was probably keeping me sane last week, because of - you know, Hillsong...

Dear Jesus, I'm so weak.

Haha. Anywho, I'm out of ideas, like a parched desert where a camel lumbers through, desperately thirsty for even a drop from an oasis. All there is are mirages, things that look existent, but alas! They just disappear as soon as you near them; they are but fake in this hot, dry land, where the sun's rays singe you with its heat, and beady drops of sweat pour out from your pores as you melt into the saddle, moulding into its curved shape. The camel doesn't help either. It simply fuses its own warmth with your own, and its fur is infested with fleas, mites, lice and the like, all the more annoying you, but you can't move, because movement causes friction, and what does friction cause? Ha, heat. I didn't even let you answer there, reader. (:

However, I do have a short excerpt that does NOT make any sense at all... it just sounds cool and profound, because you know, cryptic writing always has its ways. God, I love the cryptic mind you gave me. What annoys me is that I don't know how to decipher my own codes. =="

---
I wanted to break him free, to set him out of this prison. I wanted to tear open the door, and knock boundless the chains that he bears. I wanted to raise him from the ocean trenches* that I'd drowned him in. His strength was long gone, and rodents gnarled at his toes as he struggled to even lift a finger. His eyes flickered in subtle desperation; what was left of his light shone through the faintest slits in his eyes deepset in his stark white face. He was absolutely covered in grease and grime; he was dirty, weighed down, and trapped.

He was in my prison. My prison of selfish love and desire that he only be with me. I wanted him to be forever mine, forever in my arms, forever gazing into my eyes. I wanted to be his only source of joy, but now he faces despair and grief. I wanted him to feel free how I did whenever I saw him, but now he's burdened with a weight that he can't even stand to bear. I wanted to show him I loved him, but instead he lies struggling to breathe; suffocating at the vines so tightly intertwined around him as I longed to hold him in my arms. My wicked heart tortured him as it pleased, and now he lay flat on the ground, tortured, beaten, hopeless, and in the palm of my hand.

But now, I'm letting my love go. I'm shattering the chains of my insecurity, and lifting up his burden of my selfish needs. I'm beating away the rodents, and I'm tearing my veins of tenacious physical touch, and I'm breaking down the walls of my prison. I'm bathing him in a river, and bringing colour back into his broken body. And finally, as I he stands on the pile of rubble that was once my love, my self love, and my selfish love, I will ignite his burnt out candle, and fan into flame his fire once again, and he will leave.

My love goes free.

---
Well, I suppose it does have some sort of relevance... in some sort of unrealistically farfetched manner. On a lighter, perhaps more pleasant note, WE FOUND FORMAL DRESSES (that is, Kathy and I)! And they are by far some of the prettiest we've seen :) AND I GOT AN ORANGE UKULELE! AWESOME! I'm going to have so much fun with it (:

POINT TO PONDER: Would a deaf person be able to taste or feel the crunchiness of food (think about this the next time you eat a dorito chip!) My brother and I were talking about it in the car, and I couldn't come up with an answer, because you may notice as you're eating your dorito chip that you actually hear a lot of the crunchiness of the chip, other than feeling how crunchy it is in your mouth. So yeah, think about it. (;

Anywhos, I suppose I should be off. It's about now that is my sleeping time (1:57am, I have 16 hour days, and 8 hours sleep... usually. I napped for a bit when I got home today because I was so tired though. Hopefully I can wake up at 9-10!).

Toodle-doos!

LOL, Sarah.

*Don't you just love it when they use the title of the movie in a script? Well, I just used the URL for my blog in my story. AWESOME!

4our.

Again? Hell, yeah. What I want, and what I wish to believe with concrete foundations.

- I want to be as Christian as I am Asian. Haha, totally ripped.
- God's plan is divine, He loves me, and He is in ultimate control.
- All barriers, walls, hindrances, and the power of sin has been broken by His sacrifice.
- Jesus is my only hope.

LOL, Sarah.

Psalm Of Praise.

Your God, my God, He's God.

God, I praise You. I praise You for who You are, for what You have done, what You are doing, and for what is to come.

I praise You in the mountains, for from their majesty and strength comes streams of the water of life.
I praise You in the valley, for their landscapes are adorned with vibrance, life, growth and an abundance in fruits of the Spirit.
I praise You in the fire, for there I am refined.
I praise You in the storm, for Your rays of light reveal a rainbow of promise.

---
A promise that You spoke "For I know the plans I have for you. plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11)", and so "we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28)". I praise you, of God, for "Forever, O LORD, Your word is settled in heaven (Psalm 119:89)". I praise You for Your ETERNAL word. I praise You for You are not fazed by my circumstances, my journey, for my future is secure in Your hands.

I praise You for Your Son. I praise You for You chose none, but Jesus, to be crucified, to bear all our sins and all our griefs and all our burdens, and to tear down every wall, the walls that the devil places that stop us from getting to You, by His sacrifice. I praise You that when He said, "It is finished (Jon 19:30)", Sin IS finished! I praise You that the walls of Jericho will fall when we declare that "Neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-40)" And I praise You that we life in Your grace and unconditional love.

I praise You, God, You who is"able to do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine, according to [Your] power that is at work within us (Ephesians 3:20)".

A paraphrase of something I wrote at 1AM this morning.

~~~
Is it really okay to you for me to be human?
Judge not, and you will not be judged in the end of days.

Happy 21st birthday, Jonathan Tran. I love you.

LOL, Sarah.

Present Focus.

Why did everything suddenly turn back to normal?

GOD, he's got a conscience. THANK GOD. Thank God that I see grace by giving grace. Praise the LORD.

So now, it's like nothing ever happened.

---
Not even a minute after I messaged him, my phone rang. Startled, I picked up my phone, and suddenly began to bubble with excitement as I found that he was calling. I'd missed him dearly, and as soon as I picked up, I was alleviated of any former stress as I finally heard the sound of his voice. It had been 3 days since I had any kind of communication with him. I could tell from the sound of his voice that the conference he was attending was exciting, and it overflowed from his voice and into my heart. As fast as the conversation had started, it ended, and I was left with such a satisfaction... that little hold that was carved into my heart to make room for him was filled once again.

And I've been in a good mood ever since.

---
I have 'The Way You Make Me Feel' by THE Michael Jackson in my head. What a legend. My deepest respects are paid to him.

~~~
It's time you searched for something deeper than this.

LOL, Sarah.

Craving Detest.

Does the picture remind you of anything?

Time to talk about my dream (forgive me, for this is a rather bland blog).

I slept uncomfortably that night, and I woke up with an overwhelming sadness that I simply could not comprehend... I also slept in later than 10AM for the first time since the start of the holidays. It instigated nostalgia, where memories of past dreams and realities that I knew came back to me, and well, it's hard to distinguish between the two now.

---
Twinkles of tiny lights shone down on me, and the moon smiled as I rested myself on a soft bed of grass, gazing at the orange haze that rimmed the atmosphere. Cool, crisp grass brushed against my skin, tickling the tiny hairs on the back of my neck as I settled. I turned to my right, and he was there- that is, the one I would call my closest guy friend, or my best friend, rather. And upon turning to my left, I found myself staring at you, the one I awed and admired so much; you were truly an amazing person. I was confused as to why you were there, but I settled for that fact, for I knew I wouldn't rather lying beside anyone else this pair.

I gazed at his sleeping figure for a moment, chuckling slightly at the alterations of our original plans to stargaze together, and turned back to the sparkling sky. My arms lay at my sides, caressing the soft grass, running my hands over as its stems bounced to and fro, and swayed as the wind softly whistled through my ears. The night was beautiful, and at first, I didn't notice the rustle of grass as you moved closer to me (we were lying about 30cm apart from each other, for personal comfort purposes), reaching your hand out towards me. It wasn't until you touched my hand, skimming yours over my fingers, clasping so gently and drawing my hand it closer to your warm body that I'd suddenly realised the limited proximity now between you and me. My body temperature soared; my face was flushed with an overwhelming heat, so hot that I could feel the cool winds biting against my burning skin. Your hand remained unclenched against my fingers, and only lightly bordered my cold hands with your soft, warm fingers, stroking my shaking skin with your thumb. My eyes widened in shock, and my breath was cut short. I turned my eyes towards you in horror, but you seemed to be sound asleep, aside from the uncanny smile spread across your face. I turned towards the night sky again, and I carefully slipped my hand out of yours, placing it behind me as I sat myself up to control my ventilation. My mind dazed to and fro, calculating and miscalculating the reasons for your actions, confusing me immensely.

I soon gave up, and I returned to lie beside you again, though I ensured to face towards him instead, curling into a fetal position that seemed comfortable enough atop the bed of grass (thankfully I had a pillow with me), and I pulled the blanket we shared over my head to shield myself from the cold. I sighed in scarce worry, and I whispered in his ear about what I faced, hoping he would give me some advice as to what I should do next, but he just laughed at me. I returned to my former spot, humiliated, and I buried my face into my pillow. The grass crunched as you drew closer to me once again, slipping your hand over my waist and resting it there. I began to burn up again, and a tear splintered into my eye as I struggled to keep level-headed. I stared at him as your body moulded against mine, and my mind began to overflow with curses as I squeezed my eyes shut in detest. I didn't want this, and I thought the fight to control this craving was over; my urges were faint, and now your actions left my mind in an uncontrollable self-hating state.

And I woke up.

---
We aren't about to face the path of destruction, but rather, our path faces our destruction, and it is our choice to what we choose to destroy, whether it be our own lives, our family, our friends, and everything that surrounds us... or we can destroy our sins, our griefs, our walls and our demons.

I thought about that in the shower :]

LOL, Sarah.

Dreaming Reality.

A couple of things to write about today! I was going to post yesterday, but lethargy's likes caught me, and I have been unable to post until now... which is a weird time for me to post, considering I woke up about two hours ago.

So, I ran into a chair yesterday, and golly, did it hurt. It was one of those chairs that are like concrete blocks that have been conveniently glued to the ground so that if you ever ran into it, the chair wouldn't budge, and you'll be left with something like what I have now. It's not great.

---
I once dreamed of a future where children would be sparked to ask of the history of nature, how it came into being, and why it's so beautiful. They would run into the bramble bushes, finding an abundance in berries and different kinds of flowers, and discovering butterflies scattering across the clear, blue sky as they fluttered about. They would dig up the fresh, fertile soil and find a million species of bugs and tiny creatures that they've never seen before, examining their colour and behaviour as the creatures wriggled, crawled and scrambled around in their hands. I dreamed that children would climb up an age old tree, steadying themselves on a tall branch, and reaching out their hands as the wind blew against them. They would laugh and scream to me, "I'm flying, just like a bird!" They would race to the jungles and forests, and finding themselves in the middle of its untouched life; they'd find animals, ranging from the smallest bug to the largest of mammals, and flowers of all seasons and colours blooming in vibrance. They would explore the deepest of the ocean depths, through the serenity and clarity of blue, they would discover the most beautiful of sea flora and fauna, amazed at the abundance in colour in a place they'd never thought they could be. They would lie down in the crisp, green grass, and simply stare at the dazzling stars that shone upon them, and they would giggle and laugh as they formed pictures from the brightest of stars, and the moon would smile in response to their joy and awe of the blanket that covered their world.

But I'm thrown back into the reality and future that I now face, where children would wonder about the smokey streets with gas masks on their faces and goggles to protect their eyes. They'd venture into the murky lanes, fully clothed in protective wear, finding great piles of rubbish; unused, unwanted and unrecycled objects scattered across the street, and they'd laugh as they raced each other through the obstacles. They would hold their breath as they travelled across an old bridge, examining the murky waters, where gas bubbles would from time to time surface from the dark abyss, and their eyes would widen in excitement at what could be under the thickly polluted stream. They'd discover forests of abandoned cities and villages, and carefully sorting through antiques, they'd collect whatever was unfamiliar; that is, CDs that weren't broken, a pair of spectacles, a dead remote control, a filthy glass bottle, filled with uninviting contents, and, if they were lucky, a rustic lockett necklace that contained a barely recognisable picture of a family standing in front of a vibrant green, blue and brown background. They would furrow their eyebrows in confusion with this picture, they would race back home and ask me, "What was nature? Was it beautiful?" They would settle themselves on old clothes, and lie back, staring at cloudy sky, and point at the slim glimpses of light. They'd stare, full of awe and wonder at the origins of a shimmer that broke through the clouds, fighting its way to the ground, where it struggled to warm a single tiny stem of the distant, foggy past that I once knew.

Then I would stare through muddy eyes, gazing across the horizon, where man's creation stood tall and dead, the streets were filled with hollow despair, and the heavens were stained with a cruel black, enriched with consuming death.

And I wonder...

What does the future hold for us?

---
I will post up my dream tomorrow :) I have this policy of not posting 2 creative posts in one day... so yeah!

LOL, Sarah.

Mute.

I'm surprised to say that at this very moment in time... I have nothing to say.

That is, nothing but possibly a few nonsensical lines to the reader, and a probably irrelevant context story to which I struggled in putting pen to paper (the action itself is simple, but it's a... cliche? Pun? Who knows).

Well, it's a sudden writer's block, probably instigated by ______.

Stick with me, while I pull through this, yeah?

---
I'm readying myself for one of the harder weeks I have to endure once again, similarly to about the same time last year.

I waved good bye as you began to leave, taking your suitcases and rolling them along with you as you entered the doors of the Airport terminals. I could not find my voice as I mouthed how dearly I held you to my heart, and I instead cringed as my heart skipped another beat, forcing blood to my brain and sending me into another minor attack. I knew this would be a struggle, knowing that your presence would no longer be a mere 5 minutes away, but I fought the pain down and stared out the rain drenched window as I was driven away.

Thunders rolled above the car and the windows began to fog as I was driven into the cold, dark night, and I instinctively turned on the heater. Despite the heater's warmth immediately calming the nerves on my skin, the cold pinched deep into my heart as I inhaled fairly excessively and irregularly. Who knew I would miss you this much already?

I drew countless smiley faces along the fogged up window; droplets streamed past the sudden clarity of my imprints in the fog, and slowly disappeared as the fog reclaimed the glass. As I painted swirls into the recovering fog, I thought of what's happened the past two and a half weeks, and where it had gotten me now...

What's happening now? Well... this:

I'm suffocating in the four walls of my own heart as it sinks deeper into my stomach and drowns in my own bodily fluids.

How did you find play into this? You reminded me of who I was and what I am capable of. You logically tried to help me sort through the mess that I was, and even when I couldn't get to you, you got to me.

And now... I have to face it myself.

---
The tap was so rustic, and so impossible for me to twist open. With all my might, I grasped at it...

And when I finally opened it, the water wouldn't stop running.

---
If you look too deeply into a mirror, you won't be able to escape.

Golly, I'm so good at hiding... but you almost found me out anyway.

LOL, Sarah.

"Keep your head up high, darling, for you'll be home soon."

Love's Blood.

Thank you.

Unashamed - Starfield
I have not much
To offer You
Not near what You deserve
But still I come
Because Your cross
Has placed in me my worth

Oh, Christ my King
Of sympathy
Whose wounds secure my peace
Your grace extends
To call me friend
Your mercy sets me free

And I know I'm weak
I know I'm unworthy
To call upon Your name
But because of grace
Because of Your mercy
I stand here unashamed

I can't explain
This kind of love
I'm humbled and amazed
That You'd come down
From heavens heights
And greet me face to face

Here I am at Your feet
In my brokenness complete

---
On Your cross, every sin and burden for You to bare,
You died that day to show how much You love and care.

LOL, Sarah.

My Personal Angel.

This is an account delivered by someone close to me, close to my heart, and has examined my every move from today.

She struggled to wake this morning as she listened to the drone of her three alarms, all going off at once. She splayed her hand out off her bed, reached towards her phone and turned off the first alarm. She knew that the second alarm would turn off after its 30 seconds of fame, meanwhile she could listen to the purr of her third alarm, which was the music on her iPod. She dazed in and out of sleep as she dreamily hummed to the sweet music to her ears.

Eventually, her eyes flicked open as she was reminded of the day ahead, and found herself struggling to roll out of bed as the rumpled mess of her blankets secured her legs together. She looked like a tired old mess, but that didn't stop her as she continued to wake up and ready herself for the day, 2 hours before she was due to leave.

She was certainly nervous as entered the car, for what the immediate future entailed was definitely uncertain to her. She enjoyed the short moments she spent with one of her most loved friends. She never took for granted these moments, whether it be silence, or lightheartedly the nutshell of the tragedies of her life. In any case, she always took comfort in him; she felt at ease with him around, even despite what is happening tonight...

She met up with some of the girls, and finalised the planning for the day; a photoshoot was to be held, and outfits, make-up and scenery were first priority. The park we beautiful as she walked around, umbrella in hand as the rain drizzled over her. Thoughts ran through her mind; thoughts that no one else would ever see, never could, never will, and she continued to wait till her turn.

She knew the photos today would turn out amazing, thanks to the people she worked with. They all returned to Highpoint with the buzz of excitement of getting White Mochas from San Churro, whilst also weighed down with exhaustion, and enjoyed conversing about the success of the day so far.

Upon returning to church, she found herself battling against her heart as she struggled to keep her face perfectly composed; his name rang loudly in her ears, clear and vibrant, and she desired no one know about what had been happening to her lately... The night was tiresome, but definitely fun, for I can see that she enjoyed herself; her heart was genuinely filled with joy and laughter, and her actions showed that with such humour and enthusiasm as she pushed herself to work for the team. It was a fun night, but I saw her mind collide with her rock bottom as she overheard a single question...

And now she just sits here, drying her eyes...

No one hears from her until another day, perhaps.

---
Luke 8:18: "Therefore take heed how you hear. For whoever has, to him more will be given; and whoever does not have, even what he seems to have will be taken from him.”

"Whoever loves, to him more love will be given, and whoever does not love, even what he seems to love will be torn from him"

This is the official anniversary of my heart being torn to pieces by your snatching of one of the deepest heartstrings that had been drilled deeply into my heart.

---
Oh, clarity.

Life Goes On.

LOL, Sarah.

De Ja Vu.

You have gone from my thoughts, to my dreams, and have settled for manifesting in my everyday conversations. And you make me feel like an idiot.

It's as if the wound, so fresh, so tender that you left a year ago is being ripped open again. My heart is tearing at its very seams as I come to think of everything this has come to. One stitch, wrenched off as I see the state of us at the very moment. A second stitch, snapping under the pressure of the overwhelming sadness that continues to grow as time drags on. Another stitch, bursting from its seam as guilt... failure... overflow from my suppressed heart. And finally, the last stitch, barely holding on as a single thread struggles to hold on to what nothing we have left.

I've tried so hard for us, I did my very best, but you're just letting me bleed to death. And still... It's my fault, isn't it? It's my fault that I'm letting us die, that I let you die.

I thought I had a mere scar as a memory, but you've been picking at it so harshly, and it's obvious that it was only plastered in scabs and loose stitches.

---
I'm done overthinking about you, but I treasure these things in my heart. It's the most I can do, because you've found your way into every conversation.

At least you don't haunt me in my dreams, anymore?

---
I don't feel very well today, but I had an awesome week. My friend and I organised a photoshoot for her, and in the past two days, we took some really gut gripping photos, and they were simply amazing. Thanks everyone for the help, and for Angeline for organising everything! :)

Tuesday didn't treat us very well, and neither did Thursday... but today, we persevered, and we succeeded.

Tonight was awesome as well, we had a grand time commemorating the life and death of the famous Michael Jackson, possibly one of the greatest influences in music who ever lived.

Golly, I love our youth group.

LOL, Sarah.

Starry Eyed Pleas.

So much for the first line of the first entry of June.

My first thoughts, as well as my original idea began with the contemplating of scenery and the natural landscape that surrounded me as we trekked our way around the place. The beauty of nature was that it was perfect until man touched it, and the array of alterations created by man left it with dints and bruises that we now call our beautiful homes. The artificial, so bright and eccentric against such natural, simple works of art, by God and by man.

Surprisingly, I've learnt a few things over the years at primary school excursions, exhibitions, incursions, and even in school. Though there is this one thing I remember in particular when I visited the Melbourne Planetarium that still strikes me today.

The seats in the auditorium were large, soft and rather comfortable, and I decided that they were better than the average cinema seats as I snugged myself deep into the chair. I gazed around as my friends plopped themselves beside me, who instantly admiring the comfort of their chairs as I had. The room was quite large, and had a fairly spacious, black ceiling, whilst the chairs were all in an arched formation in accordance to the circular room. As I began to relax, I suddenly felt the back of my chair begin to depress slowly, and in my surprise, I immediately grasped the arms of my chair, and accidentally found the hand of one of my friends as he did too. I chuckled to myself slightly, before quickly releasing, and indulging in the chair's slow movement, which reminded me of the dentist's, where they threatened to cause you to slide off the chair if you didn't comply to their orders. Luckily, the managers of the planetarium were nice today.

The ceiling suddenly buzzed to life, and numerous images and graphics flicked past my eyes as I stared at the colourfully depicted night, which brimmed with bright shining stars against a blanket of black. A voice-over began to explain these images, and various animations complimented the dark setting, though the voice slowly became a drone, and the graphics slowly moulded into a blurry sea of colours which I could no longer distinguish details, and I eventually nodded off to sleep.

I suddenly jumped awake as my friend who I'd accidentally held hands with nudged me to wake me up, and I was struck by an amazing view of the night sky, filled with stars, which was rimmed with a warm purple and orange fade into the walls of the building. The voice explained the purpose of the animation, and I found this was the normal view of a typical 8PM Melbourne night, including all electrically powered lights, signs and the like. This isn't what fazed me, so much as the next part had. The 8PM sky dimmed to blackness, with a thousand more sparkles appearing in the pitch black. This would be the typical 8PM night had there been no gas emissions, no electrical power or lighting; nothing man-made, just the natural lights of the sky, with the moon smiling down at the earth. The view was breath-taking, and vastly different from the previous scene. This picture was so much clearer compared to the foggy, dim-lit sky where the night-lights struggled to pierce their lights through the clouds. No, this picture now was beautiful, clear, natural, and completely God-made.

The voice continued to attach the stars together, and began lecturing us about constellations of which caught none of my attention as I contemplated the difference between the two scenes...

It's so amazing how much man-made material can affect God's creation. Sparkles in the midnight sky juxtaposed with foggy gas emissions and electrical power that we've taken so much pride in...have we forgotten about what's really beautiful?

---
It sparked to me (excuse the pun, hehe) the beauty of nature.. and well, with me, one thing leads to another, and I ended up reminiscing about this one novel I'd read in my early middle school years (I forgot the title.. it had something to do with colour, wind, chasing or rainbows? Something like that), and it depicted a friend who tried to explain to someone else what colour was like. This friend's generosity came from the unfortunate disadvantage that that someone was blind.

It got me thinking, can you explain colour to a blind person? Basing it on its texture, its warmth, its individualistic characteristics and emotions it symbolises, would you be able to say that the sun is like a bright yellow, softly eating your skin as you bathe in its flood of warmth? Would you be able to describe the blue ocean as its icy waters lap against your skin, tickling the very tips of your toes as you dip it into the shallow beach? And the crunchy, golden texture of the sand as you grasp a handful of damp sand in one hand, and in the other, a soft, light yellow sand which seeps through your fingers the moment you raise your hand from underneath its surface?

Sight is a beautiful thing, and my heart sinks deep into my stomach whenever I see people's reluctance to open their eyes to a beautiful world, those who aren't thankful for what they have...

Because the world is beautiful, dear. Don't blind yourself, because one day, maybe you really won't see again.

---

Two things You told me:
That You're strong, and You love me.
Yes, You love me.

Your Love Is Strong - Jon Foreman

LOL, Sarah.