ZHan
2403198
Blabbering is my forte
Snapping pic is my fav
One World Sold out for Jesus

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Life lies. Lay low.

LTC Camp: Undisclosed. Coming soon.
Away from civilisation and into wilderness from the 1st to 5th Dec.

Here the trick part: I'm having an ambivalent turmoil..
I'm both looking forward to LTC and fighting this defeating feeling.

I wan more.
Just more.
More of God.

Please dun just pass me by. Stay please.
Dun leave me. Just stay abit more.
This is freak man. Wednesday's MYB is bad for health.
'What is bipolar disorder and what are the symptoms?'
Whatever man..

I cant help it but at times, I really have to concede to my inability to use abit of my common sense. Times when a bit more of thinking is desperately needed, I chose to stale and remain unmoved by the urgency to activate the cells triving within the cerebal of mine.

Accustomed to the silence that I was taught well in my early childhood. I spoke little or none at all. These wasted years of stillness obstructed the growth of being outspoken. A virtue den but a flaw now.

I wonder at my poor coordination between passion and actions. I cast doubt on my true identity. I question my thinkings. I falsely testify my strengths. Am I doing justice to myself or am I just an actor for my own pleasure?

'Lair!' Some will accuse me of it. But no matter how many times I swore that I confess nothing but the truth. No soul acknowledge. Have I tranposted into an unworthy being that my counterparts deemed me as a being unfaithful to their secrets?

I know the mole. But I remain unmoved. Even if I ring the bell, I would be scoffed as the boy who cried the wolf. Nothing has changed and nothing will change, even thought I tried to travail for my innocence. Noone came to the rescue. Noone came to defend the helpless victim of this vicious pack of lies that encircled around, replacing the yoke of trust.

I refused to conform to these accusations. I speak of none, but see of all. A steward to the cupbearer. These words that seem to be of some value: 'The walls have ears.'

Maybe its not my confession that betrayed me, but my eyes.

Or it might be my explicit details. What can I say. Just bear with it. One day all things will be brought to light. My case will be recovered. Things will be accord.

Just take the blows. Although it hurts.
Repeat after me:

"I am a Contented. Confident. Anointed Man of God"

Forty times. On the mirror. Every morning. Everyday.
Dear Joshy..

I know u are in camp now.
enjoying the OBS experience that we missed during our sec sch days.
U and your birthdays just dun get along well enough to enable u to settle on peaceful ground to sing your song and blow your candles and savour your cake and get kisses from me.

Sec 2: Leadership camp. Oh pls.. Special delivery from him who likes u.
Sec 3: De:xufto camp. I wasn't the best camper. unlike u..
Sec 4: Os. That was a bad. No mood. No spirit. Nothing to look forward to.
JC1: OBS. I hate u! u missed teacher's day reunion due to the damn briefing.

Ai.. no matter what happens.
I always love u lar. *giggles* (alright! that's gay. ultimate gayness!!)

Happy Birthday!!
Dun worry abt the vicious poverty and affluence cycles.
We can settle down in China and be farmers for all we wan when we age.
For now. Lets meet for our gym dates.
I dun like to make choices. Esp wrong choices.
And I'm just sooooo good in make these mistakes.
To err is human, to err again and again is me.

Met cousins not long ago. Revived the old Saturday afternoons.
The guardians of the street remain in stillness. watching in vain.
But the terrority went thru a series of revamp.

We went blading...
And I'm the one who tends to be the least talented among the 3.

What can I say..
I'm struggling to catch up with them. I'm the weakest link.
But one things for sure. We overcome our problems together and in the end of the day, although we started at different stages but we arrived in unison. But I'm the sore thumb. Hehehehe..

Boys are always boys. We do the most childish things although maturity is expected from us. We dun care. We seen the worst and the best of each other. Even though we occassionally meet up, its just in the blood that when the 3 'dragons' meet..

All hell break loose. No earth can contain us. Only heaven can for its our playground.

We had our traditions. We had our style.
We had ourself. We had each other.
That's Cousins..
Dear strawberry blog.

Sorry but i can't help myself.
*eeeewwwww*
You are just too cute.
I was browsing thru this morning's thick stack of papers.
And I have came to a conclusion:
I couldn't believe that this world exists of e dumbest and stupidist terrorists.

They live by the most unsound principles and mentality. Their actions dun even tally with their mindsets lor. Some goo goo doll.. sorry but i can't think of anything else to say. They really need some tight slap over their puffy cheeks. Acting like some big boys bombing each other den go hidding. Losers..

This world sux. Not because of them. But their stupidity.
It's just toooo pretty.
*Ahhhh..*
So mellow and soft.

DUN LIKE IT? CHANGE IT DEN!
I have 10 minutes to slack before mugging.
I left 3 more hours for today's study hours.

I shall not disappoint my dear Marj who requested for the following..
Let me pick my favourite number: 36!
No way! Too much to list. 3 nope. 6 lar.

6 Things that scares me.

1.) My Heavenly Dad. Fearing Him is beginning of all wisdom.
2.) r.n. Pastor/Leaders. Pls refer to *
3.) Myself. I am my worst enemy. Clinche..
4.) My thougths. It's the gateway to hell anyway..
5.) My negativity. It kills my faith and pushes my devilish being
6.) My inability. I'm born a conqueror. Nothing can stop me!

*Kidding.. That only happens when I did something absolutely stupid
that screws up my walk with God or on the verge of shipwreaking my faith.

6 Things that can be found in my implemente aka bag
(try to be cheem today..)

1.) My 2nd Bible. Big fat words with mulit-coloured highlights.
2.) First Aid Kit. I learn well during my scouting days.. 'Be Prepared!'
3.) 76s. Camera. Usage? Taking non-humane pics.
4.) Wires and Cable kit. I'm Mr. mobile techinican.
5.) Polo Sweets. Cheapest in town: 45 cents.
6.) Notebook. Secret thoughts will not be lost unless i pen them down.

6 Things that I favour in my humble haven aka bedroom.

1.) My 2nd Bible. It's self explanatory.
2.) Stack of Notebooks. Dun u dare to peek its content.
3.) Stack of Contemporary Christian CD. I'm a hardcore fan of Hillsong.
4.) Mobile charger. Mobile without a charger is scrape metal pieces.
5.) Rechargable battery charger. Long live Recyclnology!
6.) Bed. I do sleep. dream. drool. if u dunno..

6 Random things about me.

1.) I wan 36 kids. I would apologise on the day before my wedding.
2.) I was expelled from kindergarden. I bit a girl & she cried. I cried too.
3.) I have one pathetic strain of armpit hair. IT'S NATURAL!!!
4.) I just fell in love with Joy William's soundtrack: Genesis.
5.) I have a 11 o'clock crewfew, otherwise pep talk with mum.
6.) I work without pay for my parents since primary 1.

6 Things I can do.

1.) Spin a book. I'm so proud abt it.
2.) Smoulder a chicken with a lighter and many many natural fuels.

Pass!

Time's up!
Back to work.
30 hours & one GP paper or no church at all.
Heard before suspension or bannned from church?
And it's a direct order from Senior Pastor.
I'm going to get one if i dun get some work done.

Hectic schedule ahead of me.
I need a day to rest and rejuvenate.
I overstrain my foot. Now the liagment is slightly torn.
I might want to see the doc before it gets worse.
I wan to be lame. Cos..

Jesus heals the Lame!
Horribleeeeeeee..
'You look like those kind who wears boxers..'
I'm a SNAG. Ouch!

Let's talk boxers.
I'm extremely particular about what's in the inside.
Mum hates buying mine. She just can't get the right colours and brand.
I share the same loyalty with my cousins.
For we go for the best foreign brands that is available in town. A-list.

I have a few pairs. Good-looking ones. Comfortable ones. Secure ones.
Nothing beats a good half-an-hour search for the perfect pair. I guess it's not easy after all, especially with the colour combination. the patterns. the strikings. the length. the strength. the cutting. the buffer. the waist size.

The most important of all: the brand.

No brand. No say.
How I wish they have 2 years warranty.
Chop. Certified. Permitted.
Having a little brown tag like Levis's would be cool.

The hate list.
I hate fissure WHITE boxers.
No white. No pale yellow. No banana yellow. No mustard yellow. No orangery yellow. No silvery white. Never. Ever like those. Ack!

Anyway. I'm wearing one now.
My favourite pair. My first pair.
I chose it. I paid for it. I'm wearing it.

Boxers Rulz. I Rulz. God Rulz.

Dun treat God like a Disposable underwear. Wear it. Feel it. Abide in it.
3rd degree injury. Ouch.

I dun belong to Earth. I belong to Heaven. Bring Heaven to Earth den..
Broken.
Inside out.
Outside in.

Monday. OP. Disasterously horrifying question mark. I guess nothing is loopholeless. Creating molly's english is kinda grool man.. Oh well. if i continue to procreate my own lingo with absolutely zero tolerance to politically correct english. I will flop GP sooner or later. PW stinks and will extinct with a -tink!-

Class outing @ Sentosa @ Siloso @ 2 plus..
We. The topless guys mainly played waterpolo. Girls multi-tasking.

Volleyball. It didn't take off in the end after I guess 20 mins of bounching. Although I 'desperately' to display my utmost ability. However, our amauter skills drove each other running from tail to tail plus the guys were too power-driven that we wacked the volley high and far. In the end, me and Jun Chen were the ones left brusting my blood vessels along our wrists.

Sadly..
I'm fried and broken. Cooked skin, broken nose and unknown condition for my left foot. Owen's ball. His 95 bucks head shot me and bit me. But it was the latter one: it sunk its-whatever-it-has on my foot. 2 cherry red strips across my swollen veins. Now. I assume that there's more than this. Each step is walking on heated nailbed. Pericing sharp.

I'm really walking each step by faith..

Felt like a male bimbo when approaching the coast guard. The difference is that I'm topless with a sandy butt. I stained the black leathery bed. I wet the ground. I wasted their medic resources. I staled the aircon.

Jason. My saviour. Uncle Quack. My saviour's supervisor.

The latter was a mean-looking, oldie aura-ed mr. tough guy. Looking @ the length and the depth of his crow's feet. He must have been on this job for a pretty lengthy years and he drove a mini bumpy cart and had a battered walkie talkie attached around his hipless waist.

He's like the inhouse doc.
One look. One glance. One stare. One peek.
One assumption: Abrasion due to playing ball.
I felt like a idiot when the verdict was released.
But that's kinda of peculiar.

However, it would be a blessing in disguse.
4 ladies. Beatitudes. Sought aid. Nagged me. Escorted me.

Oh well. Maybe should climb up the coconut tree and do a freefall and bust the other foot. Suay suay later got complications and no first aid but admin into nearby Alexander. Den not just a simple paperwork for my particulars dictated by me, but mama and dada would be the ones submiting for me. Bad idea.

How to describe. It's a sugar rush moment. When my saviour applied 1st aid on me, I went 'woooooo' and 'ahhhhhh' inside. A sudden rush of adredeline filled my bursting vessels as he rose to show utmost concern for my welfare. The moist cotton pressed on my open wound and I gave out an 'ahhhhhhh'.. That's gay. Stop!

For reader: The above content is ficitonal, merely just an illusion of the author, due to the unbalance chemical mixture of the neuro-basin, caused by the sting.

Uncle Quack dressed the wound and drove away. End of fairy tale.
Retreived my IC. Joined the 'never' circle. Bath. Photoshots. Enjoying the sea breeze. Falling in love with the mesmerizing sunset. Made my last phone call on Sentosa. Den headed back to Singapore mainland.

Dinner. It was more like confession.
Sensual explict content.
Ms lee made the first kill. Her complicated story extinguished all passion. But not mine. I couldn't make sense with the snippet of her storytelling. Den it's sharing time. I had none to speak of.

Nothing good to say, dun say. Just listen and smile.

Sometimes it's not that I dun wan to say anything, but listening to conversation is an enjoyment. It might be the consequence of being churchy cameraboy for a rather lengthy period of time that innation has set its roots.

Departure gradually gained momentum.
One by one paid the bill and bidded farewell.
The length of the crowd shorten.
The probability of my turn to spill the beans had increased.
I had to run before it arrives.
I must find the right opportunity to escape.

I was right.
I was dragged back to my seat.
Interrogated.
Questioned.

I pleaded for divine intervention.
God spoke. I reteritrated. I ran. Real fast.
Any longer. I might lose it and that's it.
ITE: it's the end.

Run from Temptation and I mean RUN!
Toay's tomorrow is today

I cried knowing that tomorrow's going to be better than today.
Today's attitude is tomorrow's consequence.
I live for one and only one cause - to grow from glory to glory.
I breath for one and only one reason - to be more commitment, more broken, more undone.

This is my today's conviction.
My tomorrow's purpose to pursue Jesus.
Walk on water is yesterday's news.
I want to run on water is my today's conviction.

Nothing can stop me from chasing after the man behind all of creation.
Nothing except myself. I made a choice and He chose me.
I know I am able to survive all circumstance whom He strengthens me.

Let me worship. I am addicted. It whets my desire. It makes me independent.
But I know at the end of the day, it's not me. But Him.
This is my conviction that feeds me until the day:
'My good and faithful servant, here's your 10 cities.'

Praise Big. Nothing's too small to praise.
All right.
Hands down..
I'm a SNAG.

Thank u for convicting me.
I hope I won't cry tomorrow.
Gosh. Keeping up with the wetness is soooo draining sometimes.

The weirdest thing of all.
I blog worthless comments and empty thoughts
when it should be 'all about my day' noticeboard.
God's Kopi-O

I love singlets and shorts.
I love slippers not socks.
I love you but not now.
Love's like a cup of mocha.
When you take the first sip, it tastes like woo la la..
The continuous bites are like chewing chocolate bar.
Bitter and hard. Crunchy and Ranchy.
However, if I know how to appreicate
you will melt in my mouth and coat the very soul of my tongue.
Inside out. Outside in. Everywhere. Inside there.
But in the end, it's just a cup of hot beverage
that forms a layer of carmel when it cools.
Drinks taste the same but tongues taste the difference.
Even a mature drinker would say otherwise.
Gaining experience is unwise. Wisdom is being inexperience.
Thank you for brewing the mocha for me.
But I would like it cold with icy topping.
Also extra milk and double shot.
With today's papers with me in my shorts,
I shall savour my own cup of kopi O.
Life's great being in singlets and single.
I have all the time to drink. Soak my teeth in it.
Cheers! Enjoy while you can.

God's Kopi-O


And there's a big bowl for Him to fill with more.
Vagina Monologue.
A literature masterpiece for controvesial topic of the month.
Detail description abound with metaphoric description.
Whatever man..
Let me teach you the newest way to spell 'Hate':
it's ' i-dash-so-dash-w-a-n-t-dash-t-o-dash-s-l-a-u-g-h-t-e-r-dash-y-o-u-dash-a-n-d-dash-h-a-n-g-dash-y-o-u-dash-b-y-dash-t-h-e-dash-f-l-a-g-p-o-l-e-dash-t-o-dash-b-e-dash-p-r-e-s-e-n-t-e-d-dash-t-o-dash-t-h-e-dash-w-h-o-l-e-dash-w-o-r-l-d-dash-t-h-a-t-dash-y-o-u-dash-a-r-e-dash-a-dash-#-%-*-@-dash-w-h-o-dash-b-o-i-l-s-dash-m-y-dash-b-l-o-o-d-dash-e-v-e-r-y-dash-t-i-m-e-dash-y-o-u-dash-a-p-p-e-a-r-dash-i-n-dash-f-r-o-n-t-dash-o-f-dash-m-e'
I want...
Larger capacity. Higher horsepower. Increased mental strength.
Too much stuff happening @ one shot.
STOP! THINK! GO!
One day's lousy breakfast slums the day.
Forgot to take my daily dosage of dairy products.
That induced an angry stomach that grumbled for more.

'Moor! I know his trumpet!'

Black coffee has lost its grip on my retired soul.
Mocha just kicked start my gloomy morning.
Belguim Mocha was the key.

'Arise! Arise! You dead. Arise!'

Argh.. I'm a literature fanatic.
And this's my cup of Belguim Mocha tonic.


Belguim Mocha from Haagen-Dazs. *Smile*
Amazing and yet disappointing that now den I begin to appreciate newspaper and got hook to what it is able to bring forth. Having those thoughts just zap my soul..

Recalling how I used to mock the intellects for their aggressiveness in the morning - on one hand holding onto their cup of boiling hot beverage with streams curling from the exposed top, while the other frantically flipping thru the daily papers and scanning for hair raising breaking news from both the macro and mirco.

Maybe its the complacent self that I have rediscovered which made me such a tag to the papers. Although half of the time, I would be scratching my balding skull and making futile attempts to truely understand most of the alien words, I'm absorbed into the depth, the length and the width of the discussion of the editors, chief editors, etc..

Rediscover yourself. Renew yourself. Reflect Thee.


Jesuachary..
When this day comes, somebody's going to get hurt
and definitely it's not me who is going to get it man..
Question why God created Satan even though He knew he's evil?

'Cos Satan was Created for ME!!
For me to Defeat and Overcome!!