"I'm not a born actress, as such, I care about expressing feelings." -Audrey Hepburn

Many times I care too much about feelings and feelings make up my whole world for me. It makes me wonder whether the world I'm living in is the real one. Cause I feel surreal in my own delusion more than anywhere else.

I want to play a grand piano on some gorgeous stage with a million audience.
I want to learn as many instruments as possible; saxophone will be next.
I want to dive in a swimming pool-sized of chocolate fondue.
I want a field flooded with orange daisies.
I want to teleport to Berklee!
I want a library of books with classics, and very very very extremely good books & novels.
I want to own a home movie theatre with my very own ice cream fridge.
I want to direct my own gore movie and write my own gore novel. (this is thrilling.)
I want to get married to some rich guy and be a tai tai. HAH.

@ lolalimlumlabe_92@hotmail.com

Adina Amanda Amethyst Chenchen Esthergoh Estherlee Fionalim Gladys Jono Kennethleow Rachel Yijun Yuhong

June 2008July 2008August 2008September 2008October 2008November 2008December 2008January 2009February 2009March 2009April 2009May 2009June 2009July 2009August 2009September 2009October 2009November 2009December 2009January 2010February 2010March 2010April 2010May 2010June 2010July 2010August 2010September 2010October 2010November 2010December 2010January 2011February 2011March 2011April 2011May 2011June 2011

PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE % Pictures: Photobucket
% Brushes/Fonts: Henri Eshita
% designer: Weannz
% Basecode: Weannz

It was too much. My strength shakes. My faith wavers. My love fails.

Jaded and dejected I felt. What's going on? Sometimes, it came upon like waves crashing against the rocks. Other times, it came about like a piercing, crescendos silence. Painful but numb.

It sting. Quick and fast. But slow to cure. I don't need anything yet I need something; or probably someone.

The best way who knows how? The ever cure who knows where? Or rather, the emptiness who knows why?

I don't have to be the best. But who doesn't want to be it?

What was it? What was it that seemingly bothers me?

It wasn't anyone. It wasn't God. It was myself.

Struggled to walk firm on that thin fine line. Not crossing over to the world; yet frantically pulling souls to that same line I stood, in redeeming them from hell.

Lonely, yet knowing the reward was eternal. Was that enough?

It's not of any solution would help or anyone could heal. It's a battle.

But what battle? A battle of self or a battle of God?

A battle to seek fame or a battle to seek honor for my master?

A battle to fight of hate or a battle to fight for the unredeemed?

Was it selfless or selfish?

Was it something called love?

Was is someone called Jesus?

Whose battle was it? Was it mine? Was it yours?

Or was it everyone's? ****************