date: Wednesday, November 09, 2005 @ 8:39 pm
title: Complexxxxxxx..
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!
