<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040</id><updated>2011-04-22T06:37:42.167+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fullstop</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>148</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-5548213275193425001</id><published>2008-11-09T15:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T16:29:45.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Days-leftbehind.livejournal.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;150th post, a goodbye post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not necessary this URL but it has archives from November 2007. From then till now, many things happened. I'm different, people around me are different, things I'm doing is different, circumstances are very different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=black&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what the hell I was doing in the past. Living for someone else and pretending to believe in everything that's good. Being so attached that I actually thought I won't be able to go on alone, and then ignoring everything that's supposedly unacceptable. Giving up so many things, been apprehensive of so much more things. And most foolishly, I thought it was worth it. But now that I think back, I can't find anything worthy of thanking him for. But there are things I won't forget, like the stress and the dilemma that did override the love. I won't go on to elaborate. It's not that anyone knew, because I did believe it will last so I hoped everyone else would. But it was such a facade, something I pulled over my own eyes to blind myself. But as my buddy says that Sarahj says, it's better to have known how it was like than not know it how it would have been. I've learnt, at least I'm over it. I've seen through and and grown out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when I lost someone so important, I thought I was strong enough to hold back my emotions and contain the tears. I did so, I convinced myself it's not that bad but days after that I don't understand what I got myself into. New people, privileges, how had I lived on, how was I able to? By lies, to myself, and when I was at my lowest point I wonder if anyone actually did know, because I just wanted to remain neutral so nobody will bother too much about me. Misunderstandings, space, words that hurt, I had to hold them through myself. Some nights, I didn't even know where to return to because everywhere didn't feel safe, if you know the feeling of being unwelcome. I wanted her to come back, I still do, but I try to tell myself that things could have been worse. And if I continue to dwell on this it can go on to a thousands of pages. This won't be the last time. And even though I had someone with me at that time, I felt worst about myself than I already was because he never bothered to understand my grief. Quarrels when I had more important stuffs to see to, like I have no choice to choose the way I want to be anymore. But like I said, it's over, it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when it was over, someone that wasn't suppose to come, came. I still don't know, what had went on. It was so short, I never understood anything. Maybe a bit of letting go, a bit of resigning into the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, yes. All I know how to do is keep silent. To shut up about every problem. I really feel like being a bitch now and tell you to take it or leave it. Because if you don't understand my silence you can never understand my words. Somethings, I've explained its not your fault. There are things I will never believe in again, and habits from the past that I have to get over with. I am trying to visualize the future and there will never be only one scenario where it's happily, ever after. That shit is fucked up because, it has never happened and it never will. I can trust but I've trusted and it had failed me. I expected too much and suddenly, I understand it's unfair for you to fulfill my expectations so I should just be left alone to die. I love you but it's not because you listen. You love me but not for the reason that I spill every shit to you. There is more to us, and the unhappy things will get left behind. I will get over it. Maybe I am still believing you're perfect and I'm the one with all the problems. Probably it is so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried escapes, tried diligence, tried being many types of me that gives me the motivation to just live through one more day. Seriously, I don't understand many things that I face. Life is unfair but it doesn't have to be to this extent. I'm not the worst but when I look around me, I don't know if I fit in where I am standing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;If a goodbye will do good,&lt;br /&gt;but memories won't wave back.&lt;br /&gt;They want more than staying still,&lt;br /&gt;they want to chase.&lt;br /&gt;So, if it's better running faster,&lt;br /&gt;looking back will only bring me face to face,&lt;br /&gt;with horrors that rip right through the bottom of my heart,&lt;br /&gt;to squash it and grab it out.&lt;br /&gt;Though, it's not going to hurt that much anymore.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hungry! Scrambled eggs with cheese! (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-5548213275193425001?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/5548213275193425001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=5548213275193425001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5548213275193425001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5548213275193425001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/11/days-leftbehind.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1309261958256934093</id><published>2008-11-08T17:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T17:49:53.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parental advisory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;cb la. Everything is damn fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;If there's something I need to get used to, its waiting.&lt;br /&gt;There always doesn't seem to be the correct people around,&lt;br /&gt;and my messages don't get replied and my phone calls hardly get answered.&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but feel pissed off because I never know what you were doing. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe gaming.&lt;br /&gt;My laptop has fucking crashed last night with everything inside.&lt;br /&gt;And when I tried to get to people I don't know where the hell are they.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's wrong with today.&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things I still need to do and so much management,&lt;br /&gt;but right now I'm just losing the mood for everything&lt;br /&gt;and when I feel so fucking pissed off I just eat.&lt;br /&gt;Eat like nobody's business and I feel worse because I regret eating.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what the hell am I still doing here,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know what the fuck to do next.&lt;br /&gt;I want my laptop back and at least someone to respond.&lt;br /&gt;There are people who will respond but they aren't the right people,&lt;br /&gt;and it's fucking not right to find substitutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kanasai, I fucking feel like swearing at the world.&lt;br /&gt;Ignore everything and be an ass for this fucking once.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll go befriend Jenn's duck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1309261958256934093?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1309261958256934093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1309261958256934093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1309261958256934093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1309261958256934093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/11/parental-advisory.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3504242365592026333</id><published>2008-11-07T01:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T01:46:56.567+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMlJ3a69cI/AAAAAAAAAa8/8eV3GzeaEY0/s1600-h/SDC11046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMlJ3a69cI/AAAAAAAAAa8/8eV3GzeaEY0/s320/SDC11046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265593240752158146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmEsaaAlI/AAAAAAAAAbk/hve_4EI7mdo/s1600-h/SDC11015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmEsaaAlI/AAAAAAAAAbk/hve_4EI7mdo/s320/SDC11015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265594251409490514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmEen2TNI/AAAAAAAAAbc/2vUr1zQMvNE/s1600-h/SDC11004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmEen2TNI/AAAAAAAAAbc/2vUr1zQMvNE/s320/SDC11004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265594247707774162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmEO6bdcI/AAAAAAAAAbU/33UBIuV5eV4/s1600-h/SDC10985.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmEO6bdcI/AAAAAAAAAbU/33UBIuV5eV4/s320/SDC10985.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265594243490739650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqjPSnrMI/AAAAAAAAAcM/afNtboF8ugQ/s1600-h/SDC10958.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqjPSnrMI/AAAAAAAAAcM/afNtboF8ugQ/s320/SDC10958.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265599174214659266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqi0GSKjI/AAAAAAAAAcE/KiwMFBZhsno/s1600-h/SDC11047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqi0GSKjI/AAAAAAAAAcE/KiwMFBZhsno/s320/SDC11047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265599166915160626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqismqqhI/AAAAAAAAAb8/a04e8KlUhSU/s1600-h/SDC11021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqismqqhI/AAAAAAAAAb8/a04e8KlUhSU/s320/SDC11021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265599164903500306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqicCAeII/AAAAAAAAAb0/8fKcSh_U7sk/s1600-h/SDC11037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqicCAeII/AAAAAAAAAb0/8fKcSh_U7sk/s320/SDC11037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265599160454772866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqiFPM1hI/AAAAAAAAAbs/fLSnuEtFLG8/s1600-h/baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMqiFPM1hI/AAAAAAAAAbs/fLSnuEtFLG8/s320/baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265599154336093714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmD0u11eI/AAAAAAAAAbM/xhtFhpPy_2I/s1600-h/SDC10895.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmD0u11eI/AAAAAAAAAbM/xhtFhpPy_2I/s320/SDC10895.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265594236462814690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmD98sR8I/AAAAAAAAAbE/cZl29owRTzo/s1600-h/SHOOTINGSTAR%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMmD98sR8I/AAAAAAAAAbE/cZl29owRTzo/s320/SHOOTINGSTAR%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265594238936827842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;When an objective is apparent,&lt;br /&gt;an obstacle is present.&lt;br /&gt;That's what makes drama.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think... I didn't really do well for my role read this afternoon. It was quite abrupt and I didn't know what to expect so, I could only do what I can do. To the extent the lines still linger around in my brain now. Still, I'm like so new to this whole thing but there's this passion building up. Whenever I'm at drama, I enjoy the class like I've never in any before. Inspiration. I think that's the word. The more I see and come in contact with it, the greater my interest grows. I don't mind reading over and over those thick stacks of notes by Wendy because everything just interests me so much, it's engulfing. So, back to the role read. I doubt I'll qualify, but it was a good experience. Half of an actor's life is spent auditioning, so why sting on it? (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appreciate the art in me, not the art I'm in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Maryln I want to be famous and she was totally in disbelieve. Someone, show some support? LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should start counting the number of people who randomly comes up to me and asks for directions because I'm suspecting I encounter more than usual. Hahaha. Maybe I suddenly do have a friendly face and I'm not scary anymore. Or I have the 'usher' aura from SPARC. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I keep seeing super random people on the train. I saw DPA maths reasoning lecturer, Wg, my primary school canteen drinks stall aunty (HAHA) and my stepfather's mother(?). See random people around who don't recognise me. Well, at least the lecturer did. The drinks stall aunty probably wouldn't. Stupid, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is boring. I need more engagement, more activities, more fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Juliet:  How came you hither, tell me, and wherefore?&lt;br /&gt;         The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,&lt;br /&gt;         And the place death, considering who you are,&lt;br /&gt;         If any of my kinsmen find you here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Romeo:   With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls;&lt;br /&gt;         For stony limits cannot hold love out,&lt;br /&gt;         And what can love do, that dares love attempt;&lt;br /&gt;         Therefore your kinsmen are no stop to me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3504242365592026333?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3504242365592026333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3504242365592026333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3504242365592026333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3504242365592026333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/11/random-pictures.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRMlJ3a69cI/AAAAAAAAAa8/8eV3GzeaEY0/s72-c/SDC11046.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4533163163813364094</id><published>2008-11-04T10:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T11:01:59.145+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;If life is a race, the past will catch up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The future is drifting, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and when the past suddenly grabs on your shoulders,&lt;br /&gt;your hairs will stand.&lt;br /&gt;Even&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; if&lt;/span&gt; you don't bleed,&lt;br /&gt;even&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; if&lt;/span&gt; you tolerate,&lt;br /&gt;even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; you pretend it's not there,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it will never go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, you won't pull me back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4533163163813364094?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4533163163813364094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4533163163813364094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4533163163813364094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4533163163813364094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-life-is-race-past-will-catch-up.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3361879159849905064</id><published>2008-11-03T15:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T16:16:22.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6sgmmDOgI/AAAAAAAAAak/_XE2XGhiTwM/s1600-h/SDC10796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6sgmmDOgI/AAAAAAAAAak/_XE2XGhiTwM/s320/SDC10796.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264334690558622210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have many many pictures because I've been neglecting my cameras and I haven't been uploading or posting or anything. But then the internet here like so cant make it so.. even though I have the photos I can't find the patience to upload. ): So there, only one. Sage me and Zhao, and Yuesheng forlornly at the side. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; Everyone's in a camera mood! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acting in 2hours after 2weeks. Excited and getting into the mood already(: Took alot of photos, interesting photos. Well, that's why I have so many photos. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busy week this week.&lt;br /&gt;Today - school ends at 9&lt;br /&gt;Tues - School ends at 6, PayaLebar with sis&lt;br /&gt;Wed - SPARC Confidence training thing&lt;br /&gt;Thurs - High ropes&lt;br /&gt;Friday - School ends at 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least I think it's pretty busy. Gna be going home in the night and school again bright early in the morning and all. I'm afraid I don't have much time for anything else, baby's quite busy too with soccer and all. But we promised we'll meet at least awhile, sit down and have dinner, have a chat or something anything will do just fine(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;'You know,&lt;br /&gt;you don't need to have alot of people to care for you,&lt;br /&gt;just one or two who truly do,&lt;br /&gt;like me.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I still can't believe you're mine(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay! Two more photos. Some encouragements for trying to be artistic please. Sorry don't have my big fat face. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6ydJBhBPI/AAAAAAAAAa0/UTiFBYRSls0/s1600-h/SDC10954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6ydJBhBPI/AAAAAAAAAa0/UTiFBYRSls0/s320/SDC10954.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264341228150916338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6ycscEx2I/AAAAAAAAAas/JGXE5DaIs40/s1600-h/SDC10952.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6ycscEx2I/AAAAAAAAAas/JGXE5DaIs40/s320/SDC10952.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264341220477683554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See everyone!&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited, platoon outing might be coming soon! Yay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3361879159849905064?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3361879159849905064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3361879159849905064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3361879159849905064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3361879159849905064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-have-many-many-pictures-because-ive.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQ6sgmmDOgI/AAAAAAAAAak/_XE2XGhiTwM/s72-c/SDC10796.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1642667419842695092</id><published>2008-11-01T19:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T19:53:42.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"Love is when the heart and mind wants the same thing."&lt;br /&gt;-Baby&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Wednesday&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felt super fucking uncomfortable and unwell. ): Was supposed to meet baby but then when he came and saw how I was so sian diao, he sent me back up to sleep and left. o.O I thought he left so I went to sleep because my head was also killing me. When I woke up, I got a message from baby, saying he topped up my card for me! I was surprised, again. Initially I thought he used the AXS machine, but then Jenn told me the whole story about how he didn't know anything about buying prepaid cards and thought we changed sim cards everytime we top up, and then went down to 7-11 and called up to ask who's my service provider and how Ben was searching all over the place for my phone when Jenn finally tried to call my number and the service reply gave her the answer, and then Ben was laughing that he was standing at the door the whole time so throughout their whole phone conversation the bell just kept ringing in the background and baby didn't realise, and how he brought the card up and they only found my other phone in my bag at first and it was a different service provider he thought he bought the wrong card, but finally got Jenn/Ben to steal my phone from my side and then stood there with it for so long because he didn't know how to unlock it, until Jenn kan bu xia qu and took the phone over and did it for him, and then Jenn typed the wrong pin the first time and it wasn't successful he panicked, but then got all excited about it himself when it was successful, but he left before I could even wake up or anything. My boyfriend is so fucking cute right? He topped up my card for me without my permission and I was about to feel angry at that, but then again, it was so fucking sweet it isn't something to feel upset over. Unfortunately I couldn't see him, if not I'll give him tight hugs. Really, what will I do without him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, Friday needed alot of sleep. Missed the Halloween event ): ): I heard it was so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning woke up at 6, in a ultra good weather to sleep. Went to school for SPARC NYAA talk plus Appointment Ceremony. I was worried omg, but thankfully I've passed my probation period! YAY! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took photos, had lunch, came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning and afternoon weren't very well, I reached home super tired but then aunty was preparing to go NTUC. Confirm they need help to carry the things so I thought my extra pair of hands would be good. Gave up my sleep and when Central with them (: I'm glad I did, felt mentally alot better, especially with certain issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, there's no such thing as being prolonged upset but you thought I needed alot more time. I'm sorry, misunderstandings were caused but I tried and hopefully did clear up the air. I've never admitted my unreasonableness with the absence of reluctance before, it's the first time I'm truly aware of my immaturity. You have taught me things as well, you're helping me alot more. Like I said, I won't know what to do without you. When I apologized, it's both my heart and mind saying I should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're always going to be that special, favorite one.&lt;br /&gt;I love you (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1642667419842695092?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1642667419842695092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1642667419842695092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1642667419842695092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1642667419842695092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/11/love-is-when-heart-and-mind-wants-same.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1909194885246550778</id><published>2008-10-29T11:36:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T18:37:57.922+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>有些事 只要假装不在乎&lt;br /&gt;也许 自己也骗得了自己&lt;br /&gt;它不痛&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You're still like you,&lt;br /&gt;always leaving me hanging when you're disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;The silence makes me think,&lt;br /&gt;but I will never understand what you thought.&lt;br /&gt;If it takes some time to forget,&lt;br /&gt;please, take your own sweet time.&lt;br /&gt;Because someday I just might, might regret,&lt;br /&gt;that day I thought I needed a restart,&lt;br /&gt;I assumed you're better off with the distance.&lt;br /&gt;I pretended I will never be bothering again,&lt;br /&gt;but you're too heartbreaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the extent, I could still feel.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish somethings will never meet. Truths will never hit light.&lt;br /&gt;So I might not even be wrong if I say, the world's just waiting to see how I fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1909194885246550778?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1909194885246550778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1909194885246550778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1909194885246550778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1909194885246550778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/youre-still-like-you-always-leaving-me.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6211262725714947138</id><published>2008-10-27T00:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:51:31.777+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;If I say,&lt;br /&gt;I'll be going away,&lt;br /&gt;will you protect everything I'm leaving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I gave you dreams,&lt;br /&gt;when I'm gone,&lt;br /&gt;will you return them to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I will be totally selfish,&lt;br /&gt;if I assume your happiness,&lt;br /&gt;will you still let me be&lt;br /&gt;just to pretend we're all happy?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Friday night&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I knocked off from work baby gave me false hopes of meeting me, which made me feel damn disappointed. And he kept asking me where is my exact location which totally pissed me off because I thought he isn't even meeting me and he was being naggy. So I went back to Braddell myself and bought a Macflurry to make me happier. When I was in the lift I was still thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I walked out of the lift when I reached my storey, I saw a big NUM paper bag with a tiny note pasted on a cup of my favourite hot chocolate. It said, 'Baby, I hope you will like it alot, Oliver' Then I was like, huh?! So I bent down lower to see if it is really his handwritting. I looked up and Pris and Kenneth was at the staircase with Kelly so my hopes crashed again because I immediately inferred that baby probably left it with them and they left it there for me. BUT the best of the best thing is, he just walked out from the corridor at the side. (: (: ((: I gave him a tight hug. He got me the bag that I've been wanting but procrastinating because everytime I asked baby to help me get the discount he says he wants to pay. Wanted to just ask someone else who'll accept my money instead but baby actually bought it. I really feel touched. I never thought anyone would have gone through all the effort for me. Gave him my Macflurry because the hot chocolate tasted so much better! Baby thanks, you never fail to amaze me. I love you! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AND BY THE WAYYY. I never believe that you were at a gym far away omg I knew you were at Novena because you are pretty predictable and I do know you well. Call me dumb on world wide web?! Walao eh. ):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move on, the threads are securing you because you're gripping on to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Acting, I miss the inspiration. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Saturday&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interview and we went to Mediacorp. We're spotted and gna be groomed as the next band of superstars, watch out for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay no la, we just went to attend Don't Forget The Lyrics as guests. Haha. Nice experience, abit tiring but it was cool. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKrAkUk1I/AAAAAAAAAac/CGbuExVI5tI/s1600-h/IMG0498A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKrAkUk1I/AAAAAAAAAac/CGbuExVI5tI/s320/IMG0498A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261693842399466322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKrLc-ofI/AAAAAAAAAaU/7IWOyGKTSWU/s1600-h/IMG0496A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKrLc-ofI/AAAAAAAAAaU/7IWOyGKTSWU/s320/IMG0496A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261693845321458162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sage and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKq06-8zI/AAAAAAAAAaM/qbfrrZOlHRo/s1600-h/IMG0494A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKq06-8zI/AAAAAAAAAaM/qbfrrZOlHRo/s320/IMG0494A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261693839273292594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fat face with Jasmine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKqx4VEhI/AAAAAAAAAaE/ndTozeDhc6k/s1600-h/IMG0493A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKqx4VEhI/AAAAAAAAAaE/ndTozeDhc6k/s320/IMG0493A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261693838456853010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yellow picture ): Alvin Kaitian Sab and my fat face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKq1seKQI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9Ucgb07YMbQ/s1600-h/IMG0492A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKq1seKQI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9Ucgb07YMbQ/s320/IMG0492A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261693839480858882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bernice and my fat face again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXC94lmHI/AAAAAAAAAcs/_L7JXp7iEmo/s1600-h/n565361150_1975430_9273.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXC94lmHI/AAAAAAAAAcs/_L7JXp7iEmo/s320/n565361150_1975430_9273.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265788835297859698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXCutiCaI/AAAAAAAAAcc/5wgDxnU4oT8/s1600-h/n565361150_1975417_5210.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXCutiCaI/AAAAAAAAAcc/5wgDxnU4oT8/s320/n565361150_1975417_5210.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265788831224957346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXCWE_6bI/AAAAAAAAAcU/os0HzzPOk6o/s1600-h/n565361150_1975416_4946.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXCWE_6bI/AAAAAAAAAcU/os0HzzPOk6o/s320/n565361150_1975416_4946.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265788824612497842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXCkwE27I/AAAAAAAAAck/Ewa7aUIYI5k/s1600-h/n565361150_1975437_9099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SRPXCkwE27I/AAAAAAAAAck/Ewa7aUIYI5k/s320/n565361150_1975437_9099.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265788828551273394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it my face is so fat in the pictures and also in real life but we shall not elaborate on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have the group photos because it's with others' cameras. I've been neglecting my cameras. ): I shall bring i8 out someday :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much at night, went to somewhere I supposedly shouldn't have the privilege to be at, I guess. But whatever just to create my big fat presence in that space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to Rebecca on the way back to Braddell about dreams too. Next time you'll have to drive in to our homes because it's too deep in. But in actual fact it's because we wind the roads. LOL. Jenn's house nvm, can just use cable car. Haha. We're gna have a bigbig mansion with different units for each of our family and a common area. With our own swimming pool and bbq pits and pool table, and it's open to public with a charge. Keep the money rolling LOL. It'll be damn cool, we can meet for dinner anytime without having to specially travel. Our house will be so big we actually still have our own privacy. It'll be good if it comes true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And you're only speaking so loudly when you have something to criticise about.&lt;br /&gt;This is inferiority.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6211262725714947138?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6211262725714947138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6211262725714947138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6211262725714947138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6211262725714947138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-i-say-ill-be-going-away-will-you.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SQVKrAkUk1I/AAAAAAAAAac/CGbuExVI5tI/s72-c/IMG0498A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3014511721324741847</id><published>2008-10-24T13:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T13:58:46.754+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;When in one night,&lt;br /&gt;everything changed.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I tell baby we're meant to be together for 7 lifetimes and perhaps 6 has already past and this is our 7th so we're left with 60 years together. So we've known each other for centuries, except the times when we had passed away and then growing up to meet each other again. That's why his hands are mine to hold so fast. It'll be cool if it's more than imaginary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There must be a reason why some people understands you better than others, and why some people are meant to be special and different from others, so much so that you are willing to give up so much for that someone. But the reason isn't apparent. Strangers can become lovers in a night, flames to dust in a second. I don't know how or why either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;第一次， 是偶然&lt;br /&gt;第二次， 是必然&lt;br /&gt;第三次， 是命中注定&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold on if you feel that it's worth it, because the last time will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I randomly bumped into Simphoni on the train that day. But she was exiting the cabin I was entering and she couldn't recognise me and I didn't have the time to feel excited or call out to her so we just, walked off like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I walked past Linda and she couldn't recognise me either. When she did, two three months ago at IKEA. And similarly I didn't have time to call out to her or to rekindle her memory of who I am so, we just walked past each other like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Jonathan at the MRT station and he didn't recognise me either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Hafiz did :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beginning to feel like I need some proper time management.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my stomach is growling like nobody's business, not mine either because I'm supposed to get past this and quit my monster-like appetite. RAWR. I'm not going to stop until I lose some fucking weight. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend's going to be eventful with significant people, and I hope I can work on Monday night to complete it. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need proper financial management too because unfortunately 60% of my money goes to food, 30$ goes to transport and phone, 10% is almost too little to get anything decent so it goes into my coin boxes that appears all over Singapore at random times. Yup. Zero savings. Shoot me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward! to 7 8 9/Nov because it'll be so great if it can come true like we planned it. No other days. For the specific company and atmosphere, and 3000 pictures. Cross fingers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunty's coming back sooooon and I'm excited because it's nice to have her around. Although the house is in a undesirable state -well Jenn and I tried to clean it up before but it only took one afternoon to go back to how it was -.- and now I don't have much time to help out because today and tomorrow's a long day at sch and work, when Kenneth was trying hard to find cleaning khakis. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want my hot chocolate, regularly and frequently!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to die at Kaiho later, with all the fantastic food and a crying stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss babyyyyyy. And he's off to cut his hair. I'm jealous of guys because they get to cut hair every two weeks and walao eh I cannot cut my hair for the next two years. Well since two years ago I've been saying that and it didn't really realise itself. Haha whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson at 3, work at 6. Muahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3014511721324741847?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3014511721324741847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3014511721324741847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3014511721324741847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3014511721324741847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/when-in-one-night-everything-changed.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6524727176575411823</id><published>2008-10-20T00:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T01:38:32.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;What makes a perfect start is a complete end.&lt;br /&gt;Expect the end;&lt;br /&gt;always prepare for the second start.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln has decided to quit her work, for a simple reason - to make herself happy. If I quit, I am refusing to plan for my survival, although it will also make me happy. Randomly, baby told me today he doesn't really want me to continue this kind of lifestyle. I was quite surprised but it got me thinking, what exactly is my lifestyle? I've never viewed in as a whole, nor seen it as unhealthy, but now in comparison, I am getting inclined to think so. Just like Maryln's lifestyle and mine, so different. The type of place we return to, the routines in our minds, the activities we do when we're not with each other and in school, are so different. I would give up everything to make myself happy too, but the problem is am I able to afford the sacrifice? Seriously, 3.6 didn't make me happy. It made me glad because it gave me the reason to shut people up with the attitude I have to my life and studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality is never about returning to school, reality is getting the cash in your pockets. Classes are dreadful because the fruits takes pretty long to ripen, and you won't even know if they'll be sweet in the end. Working is like, so obviously, snap fingers, guaranteed you'll be able to fill your own stomach. In my context, somehow that's seemingly more important. So if I can't give up either do I fall in between the crack? And I'm so helplessly a slacker. I find it hard to find the strong foothold I can settle down at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OHOHOH! I've always forgot to blog! I SAW ENCIK MAZIAHHHHH AHHHH. HAHAHA. Like, on the cross junction when we just walked past each other and I didn't even realise her until we were at the intersection point and I only caught her face for less than 3seconds. Kinda only enough time to say hi? ): But whatever! Haha. I think I'm always looking out when I'm out, to see if I ever see Staff Merdin. I don't know just this weird habit. Haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw Hafi at NUM and he made friends with baby. Maybe they're betting they'll work the same shift or what someday, don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about my love, he always surprise me with random inferences. Surprised me with how much he actually understands things and how he remembers small details and, how he showed that he wants to be here, through the better and worst times. I don't know if it's just the transition or what but he fills up all the gaps of what was lacking in the past, and everything felt more comfortable and special. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's gay with Kenneth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby: Eh baby (Obviously to ME)&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth: Yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wtf? LOL.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Kenneth is Pris's boyfriend, Pris is my cousin. But apparently Pris couldn't keep her eyes on her boy and he comes to steal mine, okay maybe it was baby who seduced Kenneth and it's because I'm not good enough -.- They're planning marriage in Johor. Kns. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like it when everyone is laughing together with everyone and things felt so scheme-free. Time will do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunm, Sweeleng: HELLO! I MISS YOU TWOOOOOOOOO.&lt;br /&gt;Param: Discussed, I do the thing another time T.T&lt;br /&gt;Sarahj: How is he supposed to get MY genes? But luckily, because I tell you, my kid will be so much more awesome and cute and cool he'll sweep you off your feet all the wayyyyy to Italy. LOL. :D&lt;br /&gt;Patricia wannabe (not as if): You were supposed to be dead? o.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights.&lt;br /&gt;And a little advertisement to tell the world, Oliver Ong is my love(:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6524727176575411823?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6524727176575411823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6524727176575411823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6524727176575411823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6524727176575411823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-makes-perfect-start-is-complete.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2718084528020547845</id><published>2008-10-18T15:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T13:29:49.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I will show you dreams you never knew,&lt;br /&gt;bring me the stars and I'll sing for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be crazy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2718084528020547845?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2718084528020547845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2718084528020547845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2718084528020547845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2718084528020547845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-will-show-you-dreams-you-never-knew.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3361726116300365664</id><published>2008-10-17T22:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T22:22:40.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SPifhrT1wgI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/RvmxkqoYXFI/s1600-h/cool+cousin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SPifhrT1wgI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/RvmxkqoYXFI/s320/cool+cousin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258127965865492994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cousin says Yo. (:&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3361726116300365664?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3361726116300365664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3361726116300365664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3361726116300365664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3361726116300365664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/cousin-says-yo.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SPifhrT1wgI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/RvmxkqoYXFI/s72-c/cool+cousin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-142477370443400680</id><published>2008-10-17T10:56:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T18:41:12.282+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Will it wake up the scars?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a filled up day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning, went for my The World Today, lecturer, Mdm Rohanah. I thought I was alone but then I saw Jazreel and Nisha :D Saw a few more familiar faces like the scholars. It was pretty much of a coincidence when I, Nisha, Hongmin and Jonathan were grouped together. Respectively we were from DPA C1, 2, 3 and 4. And Nisha was from Cedar too. Haha, nice relations within the group. And one other guy we don't know. Too bad Mdm Rohanah didn't have these details cause it we were supposed to be with people we didn't know. But the class is pretty neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch with Maryln.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then headed down to Tanah Merah to meet sisterzxs and friend. Then I bumped into RACHNA! In the toilet! At Tanah Merah of allllll places cause she actually lives in Bishan. By geographical probability I should meet her around there but all the way at Tanan Merah, toilet? But it was sweet. Shocked the both of us. I'm gna text her later :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Simei ITE and had Meiqi's friend, Desmond do my hair. Got abit of difference laa. Haha. Saw Vin's brother, Derence, he's also in hairstyling. I don't know if he recognised me but it was weird. Hm. And SP P was actually there? That one I really cross-finger hoped he didnt see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we wanted to go back to TPY but the bus broke down T.T so we went to Paya Lebar instead. Had my hair done again and we went to eat my favourite smelly toufu :D :D Damn nice. Then walked to st29 and back and I went down to Serangoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sincerely wanted to apologise to baby for the last minute changes. But he wasn't angry with me and that was quite surprising. He came down and meet me the moment I said I was downstairs :D I expected he was playing DOTA and thought he would have finished his game first. Luckily I didn't need to wait long. Had dinner, laid down and talk in the middle of the bball court, then bus-ed home. I realised everytime we look up to the sky when we talk at night there are buildings surrounding us, we should go somewhere with a better view and more stars (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work, tomorrow work, Sunday rest, Monday school, and hopefully I appear in school for the rest of the week. I am motivated to do so, seriously am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've come to the enlightenment that hate need not exist in my dictionary. Because the only reason why you hate is that it hurt you. Things don't hurt me, backstabbing don't hurt me, lying don't hurt me, taking away my thing don't hurt me, cheating don't hurt me. But then without hate, there are dislikes, disrespects and disgusts. Even so, disgusting me don't hurt me. Hate begets revenge, revenge becomes a burden. I'm not superficial just because I still smile at things I cannot accept, but for the greater good why not just bear with your own emotions and I mean, have peace? There is a difference between hypocrisy and relent. The objective at the end, is it selfish or selfless?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And within us, I think no matter how much I try, the dividends are forever faint threads with the ability to cut through what is known as - flesh and blood, with words. Only words. Unwise choice of words, from unhealthy intentions of the mind. But I don't believe what I only hear, not even what I see, but my instincts, my faith and my intuition. Unfortunately, I'm not so easy to manipulate afterall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple simple, things should be kept simple. If there's nothing you can do about it, live with it. If there's something you can change, then change it by choice. If you can't stop it, join it. If you can stop it, think twice about what you're stopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't have to be so serious all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; Baby, you're loved and missed(x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-142477370443400680?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/142477370443400680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=142477370443400680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/142477370443400680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/142477370443400680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/will-it-wake-up-scars-yesterday-was.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-474272762633598738</id><published>2008-10-15T11:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T11:45:58.455+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Memories,&lt;br /&gt;like dust settle,&lt;br /&gt;yet shaken by the untold wind again.&lt;br /&gt;The sensation, trepidation, languish, hopelessness,&lt;br /&gt;although no longer exists,&lt;br /&gt;will disgustingly linger at the chest.&lt;br /&gt;Who will smoke away the hurting burn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who else had known,&lt;br /&gt;known the deepest; &lt;br /&gt;who was sent to understand us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will forgo their stance,&lt;br /&gt;squat down to wallow,&lt;br /&gt;who else had known?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-474272762633598738?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/474272762633598738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=474272762633598738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/474272762633598738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/474272762633598738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/memories-like-dust-settle-yet-shaken-by.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8127535173678523300</id><published>2008-10-12T23:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T00:29:07.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;If you allow me to re-introduce myself,&lt;br /&gt;I might disappoint you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unacceptable.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it. Some secrets should never have been opened and some temptations should never have worked. If I pretended I'm not then perhaps I can delusion myself, and convince that I'm really not. I never believed that it helped in anything, it was always only a moment of escape for me. I don't want to start doing it just for the sake of it. It's not something I want, not something I should crave. Everytime I feel pulled down and start, I feel worse about myself and, get even more pulled down. I remember her words, I remember myself. I remember reactions of the people around me, I remember the nervousness and fear about people finding out. I will always remember feeling so shit like today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow isn't a big significant day, but scenes kept playing in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=black&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to whine, cry, throw tantrums at the last day of my holidays when I was in young because I hated school. That kind of frustration that everything is ending was overwhelming. And then my mum will scold, ask me to pack up my feelings, and then I will not listen and make a big scene, and then I will get caned. What about now? It's hard to keep thinking what would have happened if someone was here but she can never be again. And for many things, many little things, such thoughts come to mind. What would she have done, how would things have been if she were around.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sour heart, locked up tears, and a handful of melting candies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我的快乐 会回来的.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8127535173678523300?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8127535173678523300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8127535173678523300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8127535173678523300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8127535173678523300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-you-allow-me-to-re-introduce-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6357164143668210352</id><published>2008-10-11T01:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T02:27:51.179+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;It's all about us,&lt;br /&gt;under the stars tonight.&lt;br /&gt;It's all about you,&lt;br /&gt;in my eyes for life.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yesterday&lt;/span&gt;, work in the morning. Made 278 phonecalls. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I met SARAHJ! I was so excited! :DDD Like so finally! I even gave up work for quality time with her. HAHAHA. We had dinner then our frappacinos and we went for second rounds of whipped cream! Super heaven man. I missed this girl, she's always there to listen. And I could tell her anything as in seriously anythiiiiing and I know she still believes in me. Like who am I and things like that. Talked for quite a long while. Nothing emotional, felt like nothing's changed. I hope the next time wont be so long laterrrr. And I realised, we still didnt take pictures? ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then went down to Serangoon cause baby's still there playing soccer. Waited for a while, see him play around and then something damn hilarious happened. But if I post it here it's not very nice. Hahaha. But then, damn cute. Walking around looking for something that was left at home. Lol. Had macs. Got Blu. :D I was shocked, because I didnt believe he'll actually buy another meal to get it. But more touched (: Sent me home walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt; morning, Maryln and I did something for ourselves. Haha. And then had lunch at Bugis, and then she wanted to cut her hair like so on impulse so we went to Chapter 2. BUT THEN, not exciting one! The stylist analysed for her and in the end... never cut, never perm, never dye, never anything and went out the shop. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that went down to Serangoon to see my baby boy cut his hair. But he told me he was going to cut when he is like, almost just at the place going to cut! So I couldn't go down in time. ): And I had to wait for him to prepare, until I nearly became roasted under the crazy sun. Black hoodie to prevent darkening tan lines. ): But then.. cut like never cut. He looked the same. Okay nono, wa so much more handsome. HAHA, in case he feels sad. :D After that we went down to town to fix his phone. Saw fucking cool DSLRs. Haha. Saw Joyce and friend (: then we walked to Centrepoint but then back to AMK for my salmon maki and then back to Serangoon for dinner. And then slacked, talked, like we always do. Like I always loved about us. (: Bus-ed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came online and things happened. I havent been on msn for long and then suddenly things all happened together. Good and bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And SAS took away my ECONs module! WHY! Why am I not doing ECONs when my whole class is?! OMG. Why so weiiird. And I hope I can transfer class for The World Today. I want Peizhi! Peizhipeizhipeizhi! HAIYOOO. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuck nose, weird knees, heavy head. But how can I fall again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I think baby has a more beautifully dramatic way of blogging that makes everything we do together so much more romantic. I'm worst, he's so loved.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "my duty when i am with u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; is to make u happy&lt;/span&gt;", and he's also so annoyingly sweet. ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impulsive acts coming up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gna spend every eyelash that drops on my face wishing I'll step on a thousand dollar note and only I saw. Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; I miss you baby(:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6357164143668210352?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6357164143668210352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6357164143668210352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6357164143668210352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6357164143668210352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-all-about-us-under-stars-tonight.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4465658633341950185</id><published>2008-10-08T16:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T17:25:04.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Miss. Miserable says,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should finally wake up to the fact that no, I do not work hard. Too much self-sympathy, too much selfishness, too much excuses. What am I really made of? Living for the moment, forsaking the next. Really ends up forsaking the next. All because I'm too prone to temptations. I don't want to be so playful, I just cannot resist having more fun. And then I end up giving up things that are straightforwardly more important. It is tough to have to earn every single cent I spend, so I suddenly doubt my own ability and independence. I've thought I could make it, I've tried and got by but I'm feeling the tear. Maybe it's pride, or it's precautions against owing others; I'm not privileged for any assistance. Then again, how much is pride worth? Maybe only some empathy. It's a matter of self-worth, attitude, and desperateness. I wish I'm mentally tougher. No, I wish more that money will just drop from the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, that wasn't a call for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Randomly, I'm not submissive anymore. I have to live for myself. If you don't approve of who I am, that is really your problem. I can't please the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm better than you, I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I'm such an evil person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;Thank you for all your annoyance,&lt;br /&gt;unfortunately even that is important to me.&lt;br /&gt;Imagine if you don't even give a damn about irritating me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;All the time spent together,&lt;br /&gt;just made me even more sure of you.&lt;br /&gt;Of you to me, of what I am to you.&lt;br /&gt;You're different, like I've said so many times.&lt;br /&gt;Words I've heard so many times before,&lt;br /&gt;promises I've watched broken and things I've watched faded and die,&lt;br /&gt;I felt like hoping again when it comes from you.&lt;br /&gt;Loves, and smiles. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4465658633341950185?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4465658633341950185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4465658633341950185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4465658633341950185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4465658633341950185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/miss.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7509630378289181535</id><published>2008-10-03T15:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T15:48:21.071+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Secrets are not told to be remembered.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't got anything that I wanted to get and I'm feeling like the holes in my pocket are getting bigger than ever. Talk about money, sometimes I just don't want to ask further. To spoil my impression of you. If you're so much more in need than me, I don't mind if you keep it. At least I've got jobs to get me money just to get me by. I'm just not as desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's unfortunate that everyone has flaws that could accidentally make him/her unpopular, and they don't realise. But isn't it more unfortunate for myself if I subject them to the unpopularity as well? I suddenly feel tired of all the distance I keep with people I can't communicate with. Or all the bitching I do about people I feel irritated at. If they are like that and I can't help it, then I suppose I can do something about myself? There must be some way to compromise, some way for everything to work together. Why can't I be the one who gives way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more week to end of holidays. It's fast and I don't know what I've really accomplished. Caught up everywhere, but in circles, and back at the same spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to run. Away or back, I haven't decided.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7509630378289181535?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7509630378289181535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7509630378289181535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7509630378289181535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7509630378289181535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/secrets-are-not-told-to-be-remembered.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4780128073683990999</id><published>2008-10-01T20:26:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T21:18:22.269+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Frappacinos over alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;Pinch over pierce.&lt;br /&gt;Smiles over vulgarities.&lt;br /&gt;Sweets over cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;Work over play.&lt;br /&gt;And day over night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironic.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Painted Skin&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was a good show. It touched me somehow, the last part. At first I was so sure that that guy was gna sleep with the Xiaowei and the wife will runaway with the new guy and it'll be like a tragic love tragedy. But none of that happened. &lt;i&gt;You just dont know what love is.&lt;/i&gt; It was noble, well yeah. Someone boring beside me kept saying 'Not all guys are that bad' anyway. Wait. I still think all are. This is just a story. CHEY. But nice movie. I didn't fall asleep. Because the movie was interesting enough to cover up for the boring person beside me. ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boring person is not around these few days anyway. Pretty many days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down. I'm down. It's time for a rest. Maybe like, 36hours of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my PCTPP. Diploma Plus for Certificate in Theatre Performance and Production. It's so excitiiiiiiing. I hope there'll be nice people there as well. It's a new thing for me. I'm happy ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused about my schedule. I don't know what's going on tomorrow and I don't know who to ask and I can only wait for everything to be told last minute and I need to, like God, appear everywhere last minute. I'm almost on the verge. While I appreciate being busy, I don't like having to go through so much to get one free day. Free to sleep day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Param: I think it's okay to feel down sometimes. Don't take me so seriously. (:&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: Scary?&lt;br /&gt;Elaine: Thanks, see you (:&lt;br /&gt;YY: Then everyone won't know what I'm talking about again. Haha. But I miss everyone! Make time make time. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4780128073683990999?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4780128073683990999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4780128073683990999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4780128073683990999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4780128073683990999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/10/frappacinos-over-alcohol.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1394152783597166877</id><published>2008-09-30T00:04:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T01:22:31.183+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;You can make me laugh out of anything,&lt;br /&gt;sweeten words of everything.&lt;br /&gt;The nights get better than how I loved,&lt;br /&gt;with you just staying with me.&lt;br /&gt;Don't take back anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You won't bear to anyway. (:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday,&lt;br /&gt;F1 in the morning, Kaiho at night, Mac at midnight, AMK through the night, SIFE briefing on Monday morning, DPA people in the afternoon, finally some rest at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last day of F1. PHOTOS! At end of post (: I'm happy it's over because the sun is really very tough to bear. I'm not interested in cars so.. I didn't quite feel anything for it. Haha. Saw people, became better friends with some, and met with new people. (: That's the best thing I guess, with the friends and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then something fucking annoying happened in the late afternoon. Bastard. Everything ended 8years ago between us, and I still feel like giving him a good punch. Why does someone like this actually exist on the surface of the Earth, and why hadn't it been another way to know him? This relationship adds stress to me, when I'm deciding to explode him up with bombs or stale him with poison. Kns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, nevermind. Someone listened to me spilling all the shit out when I was trying to teleport from Cityhall to Kaiho for work. It helped alot, thanks (: I didn't manage to teleport in time but.. doesn't hurt. Not much customers tonight because of the big race. I don't know what went on but from what I hear, sounded quite exciting? Don't know don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work went back to Braddell. Funny sisters and cousins. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then met Sage at MRT, waited for FEWIS FIRMANTON and Alex the tuition. Talked about stuffs, laughed damn hard at some. I think we all gained something from this event, experience is something that can't be bought. I hope so too, for the SIFE Ambassadors. Although I'm still confused and unsure, but I hope things will go on well and we'll all get something out of it. Events is my priority, even without pay. Because I have a dream, I start, whether small or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we talked the night away.&lt;br /&gt;Thankyou for being my pillow for the 45minutes (:&lt;br /&gt;He stayed with me until I met Sage at 9plus. Stayed awake for me. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Briefing at Suntec was short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DPA people are still as funny. I think they changed. Well except that Maryln. Justin become style liao sia. Haha. Had the same laughters, same craps, same people. Same appetite. Haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home and slept, if not someone is gna control me if he has to. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forced myself awake. Now I need more sleep. Receiving South Africa delegates at 5.40am in the morning, I hope things go well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's painful when the heart and mind starts to go on different wavelengths. Wanting different things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So some pictures from F1. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DlRtLjI/AAAAAAAAAXM/JH9sjOSs16E/s1600-h/IMG0472A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DlRtLjI/AAAAAAAAAXM/JH9sjOSs16E/s320/IMG0472A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251476503013436978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work pass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DqYBJBI/AAAAAAAAAXU/0o-TYKC54XE/s1600-h/IMG0460A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DqYBJBI/AAAAAAAAAXU/0o-TYKC54XE/s320/IMG0460A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251476504382088210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gate post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-Dn0dvfI/AAAAAAAAAXc/RZi1lXMV8Jw/s1600-h/IMG0459A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-Dn0dvfI/AAAAAAAAAXc/RZi1lXMV8Jw/s320/IMG0459A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251476503696096754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_hx5URAI/AAAAAAAAAY0/5gxbI4CY9bQ/s1600-h/IMG0469A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_hx5URAI/AAAAAAAAAY0/5gxbI4CY9bQ/s320/IMG0469A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251478121308505090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_h5O1IJI/AAAAAAAAAY8/WyXS1BHd8bk/s1600-h/IMG0470A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_h5O1IJI/AAAAAAAAAY8/WyXS1BHd8bk/s320/IMG0470A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251478123277787282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suz GT and Jo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DsYCXAI/AAAAAAAAAXk/LUPTRIvXNBg/s1600-h/IMG0456A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DsYCXAI/AAAAAAAAAXk/LUPTRIvXNBg/s320/IMG0456A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251476504919038978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B2 colleagues (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DqcRxXI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Ce854V5LVVI/s1600-h/IMG0458A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DqcRxXI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Ce854V5LVVI/s320/IMG0458A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251476504399955314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEKVeo6rI/AAAAAAAAAZU/FTM_0H_2KKM/s1600-h/1_681351230l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEKVeo6rI/AAAAAAAAAZU/FTM_0H_2KKM/s320/1_681351230l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251483216101567154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEJ_n80WI/AAAAAAAAAZE/PX-vHw3obEg/s1600-h/1_952820118l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEJ_n80WI/AAAAAAAAAZE/PX-vHw3obEg/s320/1_952820118l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251483210235040098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With cute Danny,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEKAD6RpI/AAAAAAAAAZM/M8sbvKSrZHM/s1600-h/1_734280349l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEKAD6RpI/AAAAAAAAAZM/M8sbvKSrZHM/s320/1_734280349l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251483210352314002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEFpop0KfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/1axma-8KOq8/s1600-h/27092008243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEFpop0KfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/1axma-8KOq8/s320/27092008243.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251484853336287730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bryant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEFBuAmK1I/AAAAAAAAAZk/dAxK5p2OcYo/s1600-h/27092008241.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEFBuAmK1I/AAAAAAAAAZk/dAxK5p2OcYo/s320/27092008241.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251484167579249490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sage, Mac at midnight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEKkrPBnI/AAAAAAAAAZc/52c1okRx_GI/s1600-h/1_227134154l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOEEKkrPBnI/AAAAAAAAAZc/52c1okRx_GI/s320/1_227134154l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251483220180928114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St Johns'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_FhKG4MI/AAAAAAAAAX0/Tf3paD_wSy8/s1600-h/IMG0475A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_FhKG4MI/AAAAAAAAAX0/Tf3paD_wSy8/s320/IMG0475A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251477635779190978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_Ft_gnPI/AAAAAAAAAX8/z2eRd6MgwXE/s1600-h/IMG0476A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_Ft_gnPI/AAAAAAAAAX8/z2eRd6MgwXE/s320/IMG0476A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251477639224401138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLAG MARSHALS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_Fv1RC6I/AAAAAAAAAYE/3cPCwaWnYuM/s1600-h/IMG0480A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_Fv1RC6I/AAAAAAAAAYE/3cPCwaWnYuM/s320/IMG0480A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251477639718308770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn nice photo. Photo of Damn nice photo. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_FmJ7I6I/AAAAAAAAAYM/gG-0l2yryS8/s1600-h/IMG0473A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_FmJ7I6I/AAAAAAAAAYM/gG-0l2yryS8/s320/IMG0473A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251477637120598946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_FytbN-I/AAAAAAAAAYU/7lYjQwhJx-c/s1600-h/IMG0448A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_FytbN-I/AAAAAAAAAYU/7lYjQwhJx-c/s320/IMG0448A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251477640490727394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_gr3xVbI/AAAAAAAAAYc/iJXg3D7HNgQ/s1600-h/IMG0464A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_gr3xVbI/AAAAAAAAAYc/iJXg3D7HNgQ/s320/IMG0464A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251478102511539634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_hKS5EEI/AAAAAAAAAYk/yhdTFRMNQZo/s1600-h/IMG0471A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_hKS5EEI/AAAAAAAAAYk/yhdTFRMNQZo/s320/IMG0471A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251478110678356034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_hs9OSbI/AAAAAAAAAYs/foKijJmqpXU/s1600-h/IMG0466A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD_hs9OSbI/AAAAAAAAAYs/foKijJmqpXU/s320/IMG0466A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251478119982713266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And some people really weren't worth my time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1394152783597166877?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1394152783597166877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1394152783597166877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1394152783597166877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1394152783597166877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-can-make-me-laugh-out-of-anything.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SOD-DlRtLjI/AAAAAAAAAXM/JH9sjOSs16E/s72-c/IMG0472A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-951362199655468097</id><published>2008-09-26T00:43:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T01:12:40.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Someone's there to listen,&lt;br /&gt;but I've long given up saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you're right.&lt;br /&gt;'Saying your problems out takes no part in solving it.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, I suddenly got very distracted during work today. Remembered about things that happened, things that I failed to do, failed to give, all over again. Almost grief, but definitely regret. Why things I can do now, I didn't do before? I don't know whether I should stop talking about it all together. Stop mentioning any related memories, stop trying to pretend I'm over it. There's a cringe, little knot deep inside that tightens, everytime I pretend we're happier at different sides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I just stood there and drew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDCO-L0GI/AAAAAAAAAWE/J-T1NgbcLp8/s1600-h/IMG0437A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDCO-L0GI/AAAAAAAAAWE/J-T1NgbcLp8/s320/IMG0437A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004233776517218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDC3lVIQI/AAAAAAAAAWM/0-NMI7rKj40/s1600-h/IMG0438A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDC3lVIQI/AAAAAAAAAWM/0-NMI7rKj40/s320/IMG0438A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004244678123778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDDA728XI/AAAAAAAAAWU/JMEfFbmytY0/s1600-h/IMG0439A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDDA728XI/AAAAAAAAAWU/JMEfFbmytY0/s320/IMG0439A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004247188533618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDDDfCeXI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Z1x0WJBsJgQ/s1600-h/IMG0440A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDDDfCeXI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Z1x0WJBsJgQ/s320/IMG0440A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004247872960882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDDcOBoXI/AAAAAAAAAWk/FNlPEnYFo2w/s1600-h/IMG0441A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDDcOBoXI/AAAAAAAAAWk/FNlPEnYFo2w/s320/IMG0441A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004254512488818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDR7twCwI/AAAAAAAAAWs/zcHgHSbRyRw/s1600-h/IMG0442A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDR7twCwI/AAAAAAAAAWs/zcHgHSbRyRw/s320/IMG0442A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004503485221634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDR05NcNI/AAAAAAAAAW0/KuUMexkLFaU/s1600-h/IMG0443A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDR05NcNI/AAAAAAAAAW0/KuUMexkLFaU/s320/IMG0443A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004501654237394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDSEwxrwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/mS9LSwPPGXg/s1600-h/IMG0444A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDSEwxrwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/mS9LSwPPGXg/s320/IMG0444A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004505913831170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDSbpAm4I/AAAAAAAAAXE/jVL0Ngq9tso/s1600-h/IMG0445A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDSbpAm4I/AAAAAAAAAXE/jVL0Ngq9tso/s320/IMG0445A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250004512055270274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I don't understand everything either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's okay. I like it when I clear my mind and come back here. This place makes me happier. Blogging about this is enough to relieve me of everything. I don't need so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Promos ending for yall, congrats and you did your best! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F1 tomorrow. Super dread. There are places where you know you'll have fun at and others you know you won't find any nice people. I just dread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Bernard was funny today too. 'Don't worry you just study, I intend to take care of you for the rest of your life already' LOL. Then Uncle Dave jitao 'Quick take $3000 for your school fees from him now'. HAHAHA. I think they are very funny colleagues. Very nice people. I'm really sorry for all my careless mistakes. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, my aunty's saying I won't wake up tomorrow already. I should get some rest. SUNDAY! HURRY COME! I want to say byebye to this whole F1 thing asap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-951362199655468097?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/951362199655468097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=951362199655468097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/951362199655468097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/951362199655468097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/someones-there-to-listen-but-ive-long.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNvDCO-L0GI/AAAAAAAAAWE/J-T1NgbcLp8/s72-c/IMG0437A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8643150402300622522</id><published>2008-09-23T18:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T00:23:58.189+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Things I want,&lt;br /&gt;they dont, and wont, run.&lt;br /&gt;(:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY YAY YAYYYY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I GOT OFFERED PCTPP! I was really ready to burn down the dept.. luckily I overslept. HAHA. Nah. Well I got offered! Luckily got such thing as 'reset', cancelled my application for the software programming (gawd again) and I've successfully submitted my application. I hope I get in now. If not I will still.. burn down the dept of acad matters. Hahaha. I was so happy that when I saw it I just jumped at my aunty and explained everything to her in one breathe. Don't think she knew what I was saying.. but she was being encouraging. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Tentative plans.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24th wed - day; lawyer/sife briefing, night; work&lt;br /&gt;25th thurs - day; work, night; work&lt;br /&gt;26th fri - day; F1, night; taken&lt;br /&gt;27th sat - day; F1, night; free&lt;br /&gt;28th sun - day; F1, night; work, midnight; taken&lt;br /&gt;29th mon - day; tentatively taken, night; free&lt;br /&gt;30th tues - day; work, night; work&lt;br /&gt;1st wed - sife&lt;br /&gt;2nd thurs - sife&lt;br /&gt;3rd fri - sife&lt;br /&gt;4th sat - maybe genting or day; work, night; work&lt;br /&gt;5th sun - maybe genting or day; work, night; work&lt;br /&gt;6th-7th mon-tues - sparc chalet&lt;br /&gt;8th wed - day; work, night; work&lt;br /&gt;after that.. don't wna think already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still gna put in time for going back Srgn, dropping by Jurong, stalking Sarahj, lunching Gillian, bitching with Maryln, lunching with DPA clique, playing with cousins, photography with Param, and headsets, shopping, and dinner with family, all the meeting up. No matter how busy I get, there are things that I don't wna give up. I'm the kind who gets uneasy when I don't talk to a friend for long. ): But I havent seem to be handling these kinda things well? Damn unfortunate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's less than 20 work shifts. Gawd. ): Why can't there be like, another 12 hours in a day! I think I've been damn unproductive. Maybe if SIFE is around the typical things I might choose to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that's just a rough plan if anyone wna catch me. I think it looks discouraging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night is young, play with me.&lt;br /&gt;SEE EVERYONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8643150402300622522?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8643150402300622522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8643150402300622522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8643150402300622522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8643150402300622522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/things-i-want-they-dont-and-wont-run.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7169795554241825033</id><published>2008-09-22T19:29:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T01:18:26.394+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Blogging for Blog-stalker. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you understood me.&lt;br /&gt;For the first time someone gets me right,&lt;br /&gt;and I didn't feel forced to tell you things.&lt;br /&gt;I believe you can read my silence.&lt;br /&gt;So you're special.&lt;br /&gt;You're meant for more.&lt;br /&gt;So much more.&lt;br /&gt;(:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice night yesterday! I've always loved the nights but yesterday was more than anything believable. Had fun with you, just because it's you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supposed to watch movie but there aren't any midnight shows. So went to good old Mac. That place, that whole place had so many memories. Since two, three years ago. I had my fries the usual way and he chose to mix his with mine so now you see him complaining on his blog. I got warn you beforehand lor! Haha. Next time you keep yours far far away then you only need to donate for me. Save your trouble. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked and all. Many things I didn't realise myself, I realised it last night from his words. I won't try to change because I only understood myself better, not condemned myself more. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mac Cafe's Double Chocolate Frappe is actually nice! Like oreo ice-blended with a better taste. With whipped cream. Yay. And I agree someone was just like a baby boy, eat until got chocolate everywhere. And I was just trying to be sensitive by getting the napkins ready! Haha. Napkins, not serviettes. Nor Tissue Paper. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And anyway, I was just being neat by folding the papers nicely. He was the one who tore it up and made it messy! Haha. And the bowl of island with river and coconut tree. Who's more artistic? (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why but it's probably nice to have someone calling you every half an hour to ask you when you're going home. It probably should feel nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He drew something on napkin, with a UFO. Cute UFO. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went home when dawn broke. I think the Mac people might hate us. We were throwing things at each other than everything lands on the floor.. and it's. All bits and pieces on the floor. Hahaha. Maybe if they recognise me they might throw my burger on the floor the next time. It's been long since I've breathed in the morning air of 6am. HAHA. Reached Braddell, slept and woke up almost 12hours later. First time for so long, I don't feel tired. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I saw people sleeping at Mac. Alone. And I somehow felt for them. They aren't out to ton or play like us, they were just, really sleeping there. Why? What happened? And what for. Made me question, there are so many unfortunate things happening around. What big deal am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my gawd. SP's only offering SOFTWARE PROGRAMMING AND APPLICATION to me and not my PCTPP. Kns! Haha. And I actually submitted the application o.O cause curiosity kills the cat. It wasn't even cert in business, but software programming?! Can I have PCTPP? ): I mean, I should have cut the mark right? Even the lecturer told me I should be eligible. Maryln also can get PCB. WHERE'S MINE?! I so wna burn down Dept. of Acad Matters. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Terry's quiz :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name 20 people you can think of:&lt;br /&gt;1. Sunmeng&lt;br /&gt;2. Maryln&lt;br /&gt;3. Sarahj&lt;br /&gt;4. Param&lt;br /&gt;5. Terry&lt;br /&gt;6. Rach&lt;br /&gt;7. Nette&lt;br /&gt;8. Yang&lt;br /&gt;9. Sage&lt;br /&gt;10. Mummy&lt;br /&gt;11. Oliver&lt;br /&gt;12. Zhao&lt;br /&gt;13. Pris&lt;br /&gt;14. Kenneth&lt;br /&gt;15. Jonathan&lt;br /&gt;16. Peizhi&lt;br /&gt;17. Justin&lt;br /&gt;18. Xinwei&lt;br /&gt;19. Gillian&lt;br /&gt;20. Vin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did you meet 14? [kenneth]&lt;br /&gt;cousin's lover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do if you have never met 1? [sunmeng]&lt;br /&gt;I will feel empty. She's an important important friend (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if 9 and 20 are fated? [sage and vin]&lt;br /&gt;I kill either. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will 6 and 14 date? [Rach and Kenneth]&lt;br /&gt;Never. Confirm chop stamp plus smiley face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Describe 3. [Sarahj]&lt;br /&gt;Never tried to before! She's smart and tough. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is 8 attractive? [Yang]&lt;br /&gt;YEAH OF COURSE! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Describe 7. [Nette]&lt;br /&gt;She makes me laugh and listens to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know 12's family members? [Zhao]&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if 18 confesses that he/she likes you? [Xinwei]&lt;br /&gt;I'll give her a kiss. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What language does 15 speak? [Jonathan]&lt;br /&gt;Nursery rhymes. HAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is going out with 9? [Sage]&lt;br /&gt;ERHM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old is 16? [Peizhi]&lt;br /&gt;17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did you last speak to 13? [Pris]&lt;br /&gt;This morning, woke her up to open the door for me. haha. Good cousin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's 2's favourite singer? [Maryln]&lt;br /&gt;RAINIE YANG. kns so easy to answer la this qns. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you date 4? [Param]&lt;br /&gt;LOL. YEAH, date to IT Malls, Audio Malls, whatever else tech malls you got there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you date 1? [Sunmeng]&lt;br /&gt;Date her everyday (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is 19 single? [Gillian]&lt;br /&gt;Heard that Gillian? Are you single?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats 10's last name? [Mummy]&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. I don't know.. T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the school of 3? [Sarahj]&lt;br /&gt;VJC. I'm so proud. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where does 6 live? [Rach]&lt;br /&gt;Bishan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think of 5? [Terry]&lt;br /&gt;KNS. He is vulgar as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you seen 2 naked? [Maryln]&lt;br /&gt;Not interested. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choose 5 people to do the test:&lt;br /&gt;Do if you want okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird, some numbers were never even asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm hungry and I'm gna eat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Param: LOL IM NOT IDIOT! -.- And yeahyeah. hahaha. The way you rap your life!&lt;br /&gt;Sunmeng: I don't know! But I hope not. Like this I hear from you more often too (x&lt;br /&gt;Terry: DONE!&lt;br /&gt;Pris: THANKS GIRL (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Byebye(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7169795554241825033?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7169795554241825033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7169795554241825033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7169795554241825033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7169795554241825033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/because-you-understood-me.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3381819879569379052</id><published>2008-09-21T01:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T01:43:12.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Maybe the night is too drowsy,&lt;br /&gt;and feelings are confused with loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;Too disturbed,&lt;br /&gt;too unconscious.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired like shit.&lt;br /&gt;Past four days probably less than 30hours of sleep in total.&lt;br /&gt;But I believe in mind over matter.&lt;br /&gt;I'm stronger than I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry everyone. I wont be around. Won't be replying texts, wont be online, wont be available, wont be alive. Okay not that serious. Call me only if you're desperate. If not I guess whenever you see me again my eyelids are half open, my attention probably hardly exist. Okay not that serious too. I won't mind if you provide coffee. Starbucks Java Chip Frappacino with whipped cream please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is reflective of their life and so am I. Not that I've gotten anymore interested in studies. I know it sounds slap-able but whether you're jealous or not, I don't need to mug for good grades. So for now, I have better things to do than play. It's boring but I appreciate what I'm busy with. No lor, it's not boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly things are smearing up. Maybe I'm the one who was mislead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Bernard Boss suddenly said, ' I can really tell you Singaporean guys are not good guys.' It was like, kind of random? But I went 'HM YES.' Agree what. Seen too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I really want to curb my bloodily disturbing appetite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want mudpies, Delifrance. Extravagants. And a perfect day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3381819879569379052?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3381819879569379052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3381819879569379052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3381819879569379052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3381819879569379052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/maybe-night-is-too-drowsy-and-feelings.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2147747689450622820</id><published>2008-09-18T02:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T03:50:22.372+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I thought I'm strong enough,&lt;br /&gt;but you're always sweeping me off my feet.&lt;br /&gt;And the way you play with the words,&lt;br /&gt;it gets my feelings tangled up between your fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid if this continues, my heart's not mine anymore.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17th Sept 08,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was hectic. But overall enjoyable (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up early in the morning at Dover to get ready, and then trained down to Braddell to meet my aunty and cousin and her lover. Stayed around in the house for awhile before we went down to URA building. We were late! (Like, always..) And actually only met the lawyer for awhile. Briefed us on the stuffs and set the next date. Yea, I'll make it a point to follow my aunty during all the appointments. I mean, it directly involves me, and she shouldn't be facing all of the hectic matters alone. (No, I hadnt committed any crime.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway there's this craze about DJMAX around the house. It gets exciting to play with so many people trying so hard. Haha. Like when I'm playing they'll all be distracting me by saying 'break break break'. Walao eh. I will sure break lor. Break combo we mean. Hahaha. Even my aunty is amused. But I think I improved! I get A+ for level 5s and I can complete level 9s. (((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay then we went across to the hawker centre to eat. Aunty had Lor Mee, damn nice. (: And walked back to Chinatown MRT station. I suddenly felt like taking photos because like, I hardly go Chinatown experience the cheena cheena feeling? Hahaha. So dragged my cousin to take pics with me, with some weird sculptures. No, pictures are in my aunt's phone so none to upload. ): Should ask Param go there with the cameras, action seh. Haha. Saw a few photographers with SLRs there and really made me itch for photography. Then bought some clothes for Fyianne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rushed back to Braddell, took stuffs, met Sage and headed down to PS.&lt;br /&gt;-Activities for this period of time censored-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had dinner at Cafe Cartel with the birthday boy &amp;amp; Co; his clique and family. I really can sleep anywhere, almost slept at the restaurant while waiting for the rest. Haha. And I hope there's no allergy reactions, because I drank water with lemon and there was a slice of lemon on my food. LOL. Okay I still feel fine, think I'll be fine. It's just a little bit anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But dining there reminded me of Gillian! The last lunch I had with her was there. On the day the lights blacked out. And I know there was a day when his exgf and him was there the lights blacked out too. I kinda think it was the same day? Because the 'Omgs' were by Gillian and I. Aiya, whatever. Anyway if you read this Gillian, that day was PRETTY long ago. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birthday boy's mum paid the bill, I kinda feel bad. Tried to return the money when we're in the toilet but she refused. I don't know, my mum never did anything like this before. Haha. Well, guess it's possible to return it in other ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked around like really aimlessly after that, then settled down at Starbucks. Fucking love frappacinos. Best with whipped cream and chocolate chips. But Sage didn't like the extra things.. well it tasted as nice. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things happened, bothered, vented, gotten over, learnt something new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked Sage home then back to Braddell. I'll always think it's okay to be alone. No big deal. Well, maybe just at times. We need to be reflective!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've shared a terrible secret today.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know I actually wanted to be so truthful to anybody,&lt;br /&gt;took me alot to spill it out. I don't know what I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;Just didn't wna lie, didn't wna mislead.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody else knows. And you promised nobody else will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, unknowingly, you failed to be sensitive about how others will feel about your achievements. If I could, I will scream to the whole world. But there isn't such tolerance for me to do so. Because I felt the cringe when I'm in their shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay, no pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; Glad you had a great day today (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2147747689450622820?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2147747689450622820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2147747689450622820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2147747689450622820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2147747689450622820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-thought-im-strong-enough-but-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4200334399271994084</id><published>2008-09-17T10:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T10:37:09.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNBodfmPrhI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ExnrYov5qgo/s1600-h/IMG0428A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNBodfmPrhI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ExnrYov5qgo/s320/IMG0428A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246808421794033170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm your favourite drug.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Are you saying you're deceived by no choice?&lt;br /&gt;Then what am I worth,&lt;br /&gt;none of your patience?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunate.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RESULTS ARE OUT AHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;I screamed and screamed. And screamed somemore.&lt;br /&gt;Well, grades don't look pretty leh. =x&lt;br /&gt;Okay I know, I cannot be complaining because of the amount of hardwork that I failed to put in. And.. I think this is really where I stand with this kind of attitude. Alot of them were very close, makes me wish I've studied with more passion. But haven't I always been thinking that way? I'm always losing my track in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I can only hope that I still make it to scholarship and diploma plus. Sooooo mannyyyyyyy fugging smartasses out there. I feel shit. But I made this shit. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay again, shut up and be contented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY, idiot. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4200334399271994084?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4200334399271994084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4200334399271994084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4200334399271994084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4200334399271994084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-your-favourite-drug.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SNBodfmPrhI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ExnrYov5qgo/s72-c/IMG0428A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1266454570280104101</id><published>2008-09-15T03:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T03:56:03.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've never explained the X I'm always using, have I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.symbols.com/encyclopedia/09/0913.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, its significance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1266454570280104101?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1266454570280104101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1266454570280104101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1266454570280104101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1266454570280104101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/ive-never-explained-x-im-always-using.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8625247138228288437</id><published>2008-09-15T01:43:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T03:03:15.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Scoldings are pathetically irritating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, I hate scoldings. I cannot take scoldings. If I am allowed, I will slap anyone who scolds me. I hate it when people try to exert these hopeless authority on me. If you must make me understand you, reason with me. Be civilized, I only welcome people with control over their temperance. You can command me, if you earned that enough respect I will listen. But you.do.not. scold me. Worst, like out of no reason. If there's a cause, I could have argued. Not when you keep telling me what to do because your emotions influenced you. If so, I will think you suck. AND SOMEONE DO! OMG. Annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hate to listen to your mother. Because I only listen to mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note! Went to play candles just now (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1S-al8bZI/AAAAAAAAATM/ESTzCFkk9Mg/s1600-h/IMG0405A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1S-al8bZI/AAAAAAAAATM/ESTzCFkk9Mg/s320/IMG0405A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940373200334226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1S-WhJMrI/AAAAAAAAATU/jFwhIck1U-0/s1600-h/IMG0418A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1S-WhJMrI/AAAAAAAAATU/jFwhIck1U-0/s320/IMG0418A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940372106457778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqOaKIKI/AAAAAAAAASk/LQiEXu_2zEQ/s1600-h/IMG0384A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqOaKIKI/AAAAAAAAASk/LQiEXu_2zEQ/s320/IMG0384A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940026332291234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqPfCXUI/AAAAAAAAASs/DzQ5kjqTTbk/s1600-h/IMG0383A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqPfCXUI/AAAAAAAAASs/DzQ5kjqTTbk/s320/IMG0383A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940026621189442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqX9aY_I/AAAAAAAAAS0/XflMDSaBkgw/s1600-h/IMG0390A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqX9aY_I/AAAAAAAAAS0/XflMDSaBkgw/s320/IMG0390A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940028896076786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqdJc0aI/AAAAAAAAAS8/DyKMTXn6uTk/s1600-h/IMG0398A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqdJc0aI/AAAAAAAAAS8/DyKMTXn6uTk/s320/IMG0398A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940030288744866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqsAlaNI/AAAAAAAAATE/pzS23bfn0d8/s1600-h/IMG0400A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1SqsAlaNI/AAAAAAAAATE/pzS23bfn0d8/s320/IMG0400A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940034278090962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little while. Then cousin and lover burnt papers. o.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some random old pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TdhixkkI/AAAAAAAAATc/f6o9MKvagfA/s1600-h/IMG0366A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TdhixkkI/AAAAAAAAATc/f6o9MKvagfA/s320/IMG0366A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940907642032706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TdwzMeOI/AAAAAAAAATk/KPJ7rgB-kpg/s1600-h/IMG0368A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TdwzMeOI/AAAAAAAAATk/KPJ7rgB-kpg/s320/IMG0368A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940911737436386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TeOkfEhI/AAAAAAAAATs/-tw7IQhpthc/s1600-h/IMG0372A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TeOkfEhI/AAAAAAAAATs/-tw7IQhpthc/s320/IMG0372A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940919728804370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TefoGn1I/AAAAAAAAAT0/yOwnR4S4hVc/s1600-h/IMG0376A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TefoGn1I/AAAAAAAAAT0/yOwnR4S4hVc/s320/IMG0376A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940924307382098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TeZxwnKI/AAAAAAAAAT8/VC6juN6UKrc/s1600-h/IMG0378A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1TeZxwnKI/AAAAAAAAAT8/VC6juN6UKrc/s320/IMG0378A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245940922737269922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U7N47J5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/Y1Lcd_stbt8/s1600-h/6-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U7N47J5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/Y1Lcd_stbt8/s320/6-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245942517273929618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I love my hoodie so much xD&lt;br /&gt;AND MY XIAO GUI'S BOOOOOOOK I WANT IT BACK. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abit of Yong Yap, ripped from Sage's friendster only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1YWj2y2OI/AAAAAAAAAUs/EGiykQoJU50/s1600-h/yp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1YWj2y2OI/AAAAAAAAAUs/EGiykQoJU50/s320/yp1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245946285561927906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1YWmibDtI/AAAAAAAAAU0/3ojXKxwZ2II/s1600-h/yp2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1YWmibDtI/AAAAAAAAAU0/3ojXKxwZ2II/s320/yp2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245946286281789138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1YWzu8YMI/AAAAAAAAAU8/PMt1IfewakE/s1600-h/yp3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1YWzu8YMI/AAAAAAAAAU8/PMt1IfewakE/s320/yp3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245946289823965378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of Saturday's,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By my family (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1ZKKaEYeI/AAAAAAAAAVM/xfyDmLXrrCM/s1600-h/IMG0294A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1ZKKaEYeI/AAAAAAAAAVM/xfyDmLXrrCM/s320/IMG0294A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245947172083753442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1ZKB1lLfI/AAAAAAAAAVE/9tuWLCut-Pc/s1600-h/IMG0290A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1ZKB1lLfI/AAAAAAAAAVE/9tuWLCut-Pc/s320/IMG0290A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245947169783229938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singapore Polytechnic Ambassadors. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1VwewzGGI/AAAAAAAAAUk/h8fpuy86Aos/s1600-h/1_499395600l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1VwewzGGI/AAAAAAAAAUk/h8fpuy86Aos/s320/1_499395600l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245943432336316514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a bigger bigger group, but I don't have the group photos. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U6uopbeI/AAAAAAAAAUE/RkKtVcuP7YI/s1600-h/P9130274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U6uopbeI/AAAAAAAAAUE/RkKtVcuP7YI/s320/P9130274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245942508884159970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U66py3RI/AAAAAAAAAUM/4ZVbP8s0SNQ/s1600-h/P9130275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U66py3RI/AAAAAAAAAUM/4ZVbP8s0SNQ/s320/P9130275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245942512110198034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U6zL4HyI/AAAAAAAAAUU/7UkWwWEunbM/s1600-h/P9130283.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1U6zL4HyI/AAAAAAAAAUU/7UkWwWEunbM/s320/P9130283.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245942510105665314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a wife and a mistress, who are secretly also dating each other. My mummy's my wife's Maria. And my daddy's being unnaturally close to my wife. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have alot of pictures I realised! All with the others. Shall embark on a photo hunt someday. How can anyone secretly keep pictures of my face and not share with me?! LOL OKAY WTH. That sounded so qian bian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1aSQp813I/AAAAAAAAAVU/lW5VgG0qBsU/s1600-h/IMG0380A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1aSQp813I/AAAAAAAAAVU/lW5VgG0qBsU/s320/IMG0380A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245948410711562098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mooncake from Genting, with the logo BAKED on it. Omg cool right? LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's this cute fruit!&lt;br /&gt;My aunty says it's only available during the mooncake festival day. Damn cool right? First time I've seen it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bCg9gMNI/AAAAAAAAAVc/9jbvapsWS0I/s1600-h/IMG0420A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bCg9gMNI/AAAAAAAAAVc/9jbvapsWS0I/s320/IMG0420A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245949239722258642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like the horns of sth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bCnR8NmI/AAAAAAAAAVk/vqDMaLzILzk/s1600-h/IMG0421A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bCnR8NmI/AAAAAAAAAVk/vqDMaLzILzk/s320/IMG0421A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245949241418593890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you crack it open with a spoon or hammer,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bC1Iqy5I/AAAAAAAAAVs/aenyx4sKf4I/s1600-h/IMG0422A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bC1Iqy5I/AAAAAAAAAVs/aenyx4sKf4I/s320/IMG0422A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245949245137800082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;splits to show the white edible part inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bC8c2EkI/AAAAAAAAAV0/MzHuDZWbmP8/s1600-h/IMG0423A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1bC8c2EkI/AAAAAAAAAV0/MzHuDZWbmP8/s320/IMG0423A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245949247101473346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tear off the skin and it's ready to eat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's boiled beforehand so it's hard and tastes like that thing you see ahpeks frying at the roadside. That brown colour thing. Idk what's it called la. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough of random posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so sian diao. ):&lt;br /&gt;Off to do something &lt;i&gt;meaningful&lt;/i&gt;. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Byebye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8625247138228288437?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8625247138228288437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8625247138228288437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8625247138228288437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8625247138228288437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/scoldings-are-pathetically-irritating.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SM1S-al8bZI/AAAAAAAAATM/ESTzCFkk9Mg/s72-c/IMG0405A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8407031059838992460</id><published>2008-09-14T03:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T04:08:31.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thank you, for being part of my 13th September 2008. If you were. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I gave myself the best birthday present, of waking up.&lt;br /&gt;To differentiate between foolishness and selfishness. &lt;br /&gt;I've tried hard enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have a Family. I'm not alone. &lt;br /&gt;It just became confusing for a period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cine, movie, braddell, dover, SP, hortpark, bridge, games, amk mac, walk, braddell.&lt;br /&gt;I've always just wanted it to be a normal day. But I have this uncontainable urge to make it special in these few hours. Why? It's just another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all who remembered, thanks again. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8407031059838992460?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8407031059838992460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8407031059838992460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8407031059838992460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8407031059838992460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/thank-you-for-being-part-of-my-13th.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4468694854407498490</id><published>2008-09-12T02:26:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T03:17:38.268+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer: &lt;br /&gt;This post is extremely emotionally driven. If you know you don't know me well enough to handle my issues, do not read it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm serious, don't act as though you know me and regret it later.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's over,&lt;br /&gt;but it's possible to pretend,&lt;br /&gt;pretend that I'm re-living everything.&lt;br /&gt;You're around, somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;You're sharing my warmth.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll always feel blessed when I'm with my aunty. I think she's really nice, beneath the fierce face and all. :} She just fried my Marmite-marinated chicken drumsticks for me just because I wanted it, like in the middle of the night. Despite being tired and all, she waited with me for the drumsticks to defrost, and then marinated, and fried. I was being unreasonable with my demands, like drumsticks in the middle of the night? But I'm getting really thankful. Everytime I'm with her I kinda feel covered for. Like when my family was having instant noodles everyday (a few years back), she would ask me over to her house for a decent home-cooked meal after my tuition. I swear there was one time I got too emotional just having a meal like that, then it was just me and her at the table. She was reading her book and I was just eating, hiding my emotions. I think she caught it anyway. Yes, I like families to eat together, home-cooked food and all. Especially soup, it just feels different from outside food. Now, I only have her house to go to, so I won't feel alone. And when I'm sick, I think I'd even tell her first before my mother knows (I mean last time). I recovered from my almost-blinded eye infection at her house, and my inflamed esophagus, and the fevers and chills. I'm really thankful for her, she knows alot of things. Heard me out many times when my mother wasn't available (last time), helped me alot, taught me alot. Damn it, heart's feeling sour already. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=black&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my mother too. I think if she's still around I'll just shout Fuck you at her can. I'm so annoyed. I'm really annoyed. I don't know what the hell she was trying to do? I don't understand her. I tried to, I dont know how to. I don't have anyone in mind that I'll tell this to personally so I'm choosing to blog it up here. She typed me a letter last year on my birthday, I didn't read it. Not clearly. I know I just threw it aside. I think she knows that I won't read it, she she had another copy of it, I swear she did it on purpose. Now I've got the both letters on my hand, because  I never wanted to fucking throw the letter she gave me personally away. I read it clearly for the first time. Fuck shit. I can almost imagine the same her saying all that fuck to me. All the shit about not taking her path, the same shit expectations which I will scream to her I cannot meet. I've lost my chance to tell her everything in person, I've lost everything. Feels damn bullshit but what else do I have? It must have taken her a long time to finish typing that bloody letter. Must have taken her hours, I didn't even teach her how to use the fucking hanyupinying. Who else would have sat down with her at that time? So how would she know? I can imagine her, sitting there and thinking by herself. Her same chair, same squatting position. I had ignored her. Till the moment she's gone it was because I had ignored her. I know I was the help she could have been hoping for. I don't know where else to scream to. I know I'm being unreasonably emotional now. There's no one right to listen to me. I regret not having been there for her enough, not having told her that I didnt need her money. And for not checking the bloody room when I reached home that night. I left her there to complete it, I did. That is my fault. I never hated her, I just couldn't understand her.  And I never told her I love her properly. Stupid, this is always the kinda things they teach in spam mails. Awfully fucking stupid. Fine, I'm done whining. I don't think she can read my blog anyway. So fucking hopeless. Useless. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm still feeling blissful over what I've got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; I missed this times together too, with my sisters. I hope it's not too hard to solve everything within the family. Most importantly to me, everyone is still around. Like in person, to talk to. Whatever goes on behind, I suddenly don't fucking give a damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mummy cooked great soup too. &lt;br /&gt;I do miss her.&lt;br /&gt;I do miss my home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sucks being emotionally weak sometimes. Sorry, I'm humane.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4468694854407498490?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4468694854407498490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4468694854407498490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4468694854407498490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4468694854407498490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/disclaimer-this-post-is-extremely.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1885421797319475642</id><published>2008-09-11T23:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T23:56:01.404+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Abit stuck, unfortunately.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice day! I mean, who else will sit with me at some public staircase and sing for one hour until we feel that traffic was heavy enough to go home? (: Had all the ice-creams, walked and bitched and laughed, and enjoyed myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've got nice presents! Those that I just wna hug and scream and smile everytime I see it! (: Although it wasn't much. But I love them. Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busy day tomorrow. Plan's to the lawyer's, sing, steamboat, movies.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning's job, then NYAA report meeting, duty, fun.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday's Pulau Ubin, of course fun. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I don't know why you aren't in my schedule, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So somehow I'm more concerned whether you are concerned?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck? Nevermind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1885421797319475642?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1885421797319475642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1885421797319475642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1885421797319475642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1885421797319475642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/abit-stuck-unfortunately.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4938934504642440311</id><published>2008-09-09T23:25:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T23:38:21.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Have you,&lt;br /&gt;in the fit of your anger,&lt;br /&gt;forgotten that I'm still here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks to not know what you're thinking.&lt;br /&gt;Don't know what is not trying,&lt;br /&gt;and how much is too hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're not convinced,&lt;br /&gt;I've been missing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, &lt;br /&gt;there's nothing I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe,&lt;br /&gt;someone else does better for you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4938934504642440311?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4938934504642440311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4938934504642440311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4938934504642440311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4938934504642440311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/have-you-in-fit-of-your-anger-forget.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-5652488213777972415</id><published>2008-09-09T22:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T23:00:51.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;What, scared the whole world dont know arh?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot la.&lt;br /&gt;Everything that happened, the empty days without updates. And I'm not really in the mood to go and remember. The hike was too eventful. I &lt;i&gt;wanted&lt;/i&gt; to blog about it but I don't have the time to sit down and really do it. Days are passing and it's getting late to do so anyway. Days before and after that, I can't pin them all down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, went back to Dover in the morning and went for soccer with SPARC. Well, some of us. I can't believe I survived it. My head was soooooo heavy and my joint was almost dislocatingggg. Aiya, exaggerating la. Okay but it was a fruitful session, I got slightly even more tanned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched Bangkok Dangerous with fellows after that. We love our jackets. LOL. And I can't believe I dozed off during the movie. It was a nice movie, exciting and typically 'Thailand'. I was just too tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to BK and bhb sat there for one plus hour w/o buying any food. Waited for mummy to break fast. Talked and talked. And then something weird happened, eh Sab? Idk, coincidences maybe. =x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trained home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit man. I don't like the way I'm hesistant about questions. I don't even know what I'm hesistant about, what I'm fearful of. It's always just at my throat and hard to swallow back, but it's never coming out. Why? I wished I can be as straightforward. Whatever la, thought too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn the rashes. Damn the spots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn I wished money will really fall from the sky sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're different, too different. I don't know if I really can adjust to it. I don't even know what's expected of me sometimes. But hell, why should I even live to your expectations actually? I cant be regretting? And most importantly, I can't define the reason everything began in the first place. WHATEVER LA. I know, people must be sick of reading all these random parts in my blog when nobody (I think) can actually understand what's going on. Whatever la. Grrrrrrrrrrah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. And tired people think of tired shit. And yes. I think alcohol is really burning away my braincells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-5652488213777972415?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/5652488213777972415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=5652488213777972415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5652488213777972415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5652488213777972415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-scared-whole-world-dont-know-arh-i.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4668604981675206271</id><published>2008-09-08T22:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:00:32.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'M BACK BABY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alive and in one piece. I dont know how many people actually thought I've died up there. Nearly had but I'm back! Thanks for all the prayers. My grandma's cutest. She's not allowing me to go anymore. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ SPIDERMAN HOODIE! xDDDD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Text me!&lt;br /&gt;Loves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4668604981675206271?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4668604981675206271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4668604981675206271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4668604981675206271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4668604981675206271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-back-baby-alive-and-in-one-piece.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6307550993781377331</id><published>2008-09-01T10:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T10:34:47.485+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>OHHH NOW I KNOW WHY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I like it when your scent still lingers around,&lt;br /&gt;hopeful thought you might not bear to leave anyway.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suntec was freaking crowded yesterday. I don't know what actually got into my mind to go with cousin and Jonathan. Don't like crowded places. So didn't get anything in the end, uh well wasn't planning to get anything actually. Jonathan got his thumbdrive w/o a plastic bag. And I was craving for soya milk like siao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so hello unknown faces to my blog, I'm here to say Goodbye. Just for awhile. But Jonathan thinks I'm not going to make it back. But he's gay so don't listen to him. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's kinda early but I'll miss you. I'm gna listen though, and take it as an experience. In fact, trekking never disappointed me before. I love these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay, miss me please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6307550993781377331?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6307550993781377331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6307550993781377331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6307550993781377331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6307550993781377331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/09/ohhh-now-i-know-why.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-9178491689038807880</id><published>2008-08-30T03:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T03:27:59.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I cannot remember how it should have been like.&lt;br /&gt;Or have I ever known?&lt;br /&gt;I'm always needing protocols,&lt;br /&gt;needing a primary subject to mimic.&lt;br /&gt;I was never able to lay the bricks of my path,&lt;br /&gt;myself.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hougang in the morning and day, Braddell for wash up, Night Safari for supposedly night photography practice (and of course fun), AMK hub for arcade and midnight movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to be optimistic about things I dont think lightly of. I've always been so easy and laid back about certain stuffs but it's all because the consequences don't bother me. This time, I only know how to stop thinking. Because it disturbs me to foresee. 3years, if I were 3years older right now, will there be any difference in the way I perceive things? The people around me would have changed. The people around me three years ago, were different ones anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;It is not about where the train goes,&lt;br /&gt;it's about deciding to get on it or not.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it? What if it goes into the sewage pipes?&lt;br /&gt;And never comes out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever. I'm brooding about the same things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be glad and happy, I've had a nice day/evening/night/midnight.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks you, cousins, cousin's darling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am good, I'll be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures/stuffs another time.&lt;br /&gt;Nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-9178491689038807880?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/9178491689038807880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=9178491689038807880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/9178491689038807880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/9178491689038807880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-cannot-remember-how-it-should-have.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6105156470370707551</id><published>2008-08-29T18:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T18:37:18.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Sorry, I do feel sorry.&lt;br /&gt;To do the same things that I would have hated,&lt;br /&gt;to complicate the already helpless,&lt;br /&gt;to be unable to solve anything.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I don't think I deserve protection,&lt;br /&gt;I should watch myself disintegrate.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be anxious till that smart woman goes home and undo what she didn't intentionally do. I'm afraid of the consequences. I really am. To the extent I hope I'm hated. I hope if any finger were pointed at please, at me. I really spoilt things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY STUPID my blog looks like shit on Firefox ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What. Codes got problem?&lt;br /&gt;GOT PROBLEM?! I WONT BELIEVE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6105156470370707551?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6105156470370707551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6105156470370707551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6105156470370707551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6105156470370707551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/sorry-i-do-feel-sorry.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-5399654849620835311</id><published>2008-08-28T17:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T17:26:26.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;When you're so lost you dont see the rubbish you heaped around you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a little boy beggar by the street.&lt;br /&gt;A man walked up to him and decided to play.&lt;br /&gt;"Boy, $1 or 50cents, choose one"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thought for a while and took the 50cent coin from the man's hand.&lt;br /&gt;The man laughed and turned to the village,&lt;br /&gt;"Hey he's so stupid! He chose the 50cent coin over $1!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People were surprised, from far and near they came and did the same thing, they couldn't believe someone so stupid exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without fail, he always took the 50cent coin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father was upset,&lt;br /&gt;"Son, don't you know the value of money? &lt;br /&gt;$1 is obviously more, why are you acting such a fool!"&lt;br /&gt;he reprimanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But dad,&lt;br /&gt;if I took the $1, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there won't be so many 50cent coins now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it were me, I'll beat that man and snatch his wallet. He probably has notes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it'll be good if I fail Materials too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shows that I'm not Material-istic. WA FUNNY. -.-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-5399654849620835311?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/5399654849620835311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=5399654849620835311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5399654849620835311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5399654849620835311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-youre-so-lost-you-dont-see-rubbish.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8662082683602737285</id><published>2008-08-28T02:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T10:43:23.941+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;It feels so wrong,&lt;br /&gt;that it must be right.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I start, this is for Xiao yi &amp; Family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, certain things I've decided on impulse and nobody is thinking good about it. And I'll be sorry for implicating those that were not even close to it, for making others think I was influenced into it. But it was my choice, if there's any fault it is mine. I hadn't thought far enough. And no, it wasn't a display of rebel. (8 on my ear, and what kind of person do you know me by?) Perhaps I had not considered the adults' feelings, it is wrong on my part and I apologise. But I am here not to insist on that, but to hopefully change those opinions. Piercings does not equal to attracting the wrong friends, neither is it for acting like a gangster. I won't say this applies to everyone, but to me at least. I didn't pierce under peer pressure. I dont make more friends just because of the stud I now have. In fact, friends who were talking to me at the point of my decision had no such opinions too. I am still who I am, and if you believe in me before, please don't condemn me now. A pierce cant just make me fool around. My attitudes didn't change over-night. And like I've said, I am still the same person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the reason why I pierced very well. Something I'm probably not prepared to share with anyone. And yes, it was still an impulse. I will keep it, because I'm not ashamed of it. Hope you'll understand what I mean. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, oh no, yesterday. I realised to me, the few hours before dawn still belongs to the previous day. LOL. But anyway, it was (: Went out for dinner, walked around, got books, trained back. I wanted to go Braddell but wth! I left my clothes in the washing machine again T.T I should really stop doing that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8662082683602737285?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8662082683602737285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8662082683602737285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8662082683602737285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8662082683602737285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-feels-so-wrong-that-it-must-be-right.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3268857067554283812</id><published>2008-08-27T02:16:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T03:28:17.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Never thought,&lt;br /&gt;it'll be beating so hard.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, Yellow Boots and Helmet, and many the much disgusting armpit hair (HAHAHA WTH TO TERRY). I won't be having twins with Bob, they wont be having the disgusting armpit hair neither. LMAO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, BYEBYE CONSTRUCTION! (Sadly, One only.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stop, stop looking. Go sort your papers! Your construction notes are still mixed with everything else. Close the window, go find your notes, study!&lt;/i&gt;, 5.30am,3 half hours to 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanted to get out of the exam room half an hour before the paper ends already. It was so. HAIYA. I've put down whatever that I know, and I didnt means I dont know. Guessed for those that I dont know, and if I didnt, means I cant. Luckily Mr. Chou understood my sian-diao face and collected my paper first. Got out for some warmth before the paper ends. Surprisingly Maryln came out right after, I think she stalks me. LOL. Okay, whatever. Went to eat, with my pathetic tongue I could only drink. Went to clubroom collect stuffs, took Mr. Kent's unglam NTUC plastic bag? SORRY. LOL. And hostel-ed. Put clothes to wash, sleep, woke up late, rushed out, left clothes in washing machine. T.T So shit..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was late anyway. Well we got Teacher's Day presents and then we went Candy hunting again. (And now then I realised, it will never succeed.) Walked and walked, and then we do what we love best, EAT. HAHA. I cant help it. Was so fucking deprived of food, I removed it in the restuarant and ate my burger. AWESOME! :D And then we decided to visit the cute Flyer, but it was boring there. So we headed back, and homed after. No stamina person! Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN1s5eJCI/AAAAAAAAALw/javOApzsM54/s1600-h/SDC10611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238897851519345698" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN1s5eJCI/AAAAAAAAALw/javOApzsM54/s320/SDC10611.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: Not for Weight Watchers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN14sMVGI/AAAAAAAAAL4/biN6xL2XTy0/s1600-h/SDC10613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238897854684877922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN14sMVGI/AAAAAAAAAL4/biN6xL2XTy0/s320/SDC10613.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: I don't care laaaa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN2fX4TUI/AAAAAAAAAMA/l_TniZkmW-g/s1600-h/SDC10616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238897865068662082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN2fX4TUI/AAAAAAAAAMA/l_TniZkmW-g/s320/SDC10616.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN3LHk2nI/AAAAAAAAAMI/tMm6QP2aJCc/s1600-h/SDC10628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238897876811438706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN3LHk2nI/AAAAAAAAAMI/tMm6QP2aJCc/s320/SDC10628.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN3h6_CCI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/UBMO8R-UE3w/s1600-h/SDC10635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238897882932643874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN3h6_CCI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/UBMO8R-UE3w/s320/SDC10635.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPENLf6yI/AAAAAAAAAMY/hBAXLbZlo34/s1600-h/SDC10643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238899200214690594" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPENLf6yI/AAAAAAAAAMY/hBAXLbZlo34/s320/SDC10643.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeh cute Flyer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPEZzMXtI/AAAAAAAAAMg/0XJa3HcwO6M/s1600-h/SDC10647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238899203602407122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPEZzMXtI/AAAAAAAAAMg/0XJa3HcwO6M/s320/SDC10647.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPEmFydEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/UZElnO4KAXs/s1600-h/SDC10648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238899206901625922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPEmFydEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/UZElnO4KAXs/s320/SDC10648.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPFYzgTjI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Iv-x81uPE8M/s1600-h/SDC10655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238899220515147314" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPFYzgTjI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Iv-x81uPE8M/s320/SDC10655.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll kick you away because you're yellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPF7LzKDI/AAAAAAAAAM4/apBjrcAiwqQ/s1600-h/SDC10658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238899229743851570" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRPF7LzKDI/AAAAAAAAAM4/apBjrcAiwqQ/s320/SDC10658.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTbRqe9DI/AAAAAAAAANo/1Uf2YYJSje8/s1600-h/SDC10660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238903994601894962" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTbRqe9DI/AAAAAAAAANo/1Uf2YYJSje8/s320/SDC10660.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: Sorry tiles, I must tell you I love you before I go ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTcBcctnI/AAAAAAAAANw/FNH58avva9g/s1600-h/SDC10661.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238904007427929714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTcBcctnI/AAAAAAAAANw/FNH58avva9g/s320/SDC10661.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art is exaggeration; art is shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTcmXnSZI/AAAAAAAAAN4/dL-pzTN-9Ww/s1600-h/SDC10669.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238904017339763090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTcmXnSZI/AAAAAAAAAN4/dL-pzTN-9Ww/s320/SDC10669.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTc7aLZ0I/AAAAAAAAAOA/YIyzHnws7Jo/s1600-h/SDC10670.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238904022987663170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTc7aLZ0I/AAAAAAAAAOA/YIyzHnws7Jo/s320/SDC10670.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTdOaBzwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/x-V7VSwcT4Y/s1600-h/SDC10671.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238904028087308034" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRTdOaBzwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/x-V7VSwcT4Y/s320/SDC10671.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRUCpsYYzI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/LUwuR5Fz5Rw/s1600-h/SDC10673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238904671067202354" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRUCpsYYzI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/LUwuR5Fz5Rw/s320/SDC10673.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;More pictures but no stamina person probably dozed off to sleep after cabbing home. Haiyo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry's got some cool shit going on, on Thursday night. All the best man! I'm excited for him &amp;amp; his co! x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday's pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW6XQVhzI/AAAAAAAAAOY/HBGw835JugE/s1600-h/DSCF0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238907827213666098" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW6XQVhzI/AAAAAAAAAOY/HBGw835JugE/s320/DSCF0045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zi lian also disturb me eat my food T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW7ORlzOI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ibUes6lhpQg/s1600-h/DSCF0048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238907841982876898" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW7ORlzOI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ibUes6lhpQg/s320/DSCF0048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW7_o8RBI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6XDOEKqkfFY/s1600-h/SDC10549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238907855234155538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW7_o8RBI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6XDOEKqkfFY/s320/SDC10549.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She owned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYSYXvdII/AAAAAAAAAO4/RTB-9u9Xpio/s1600-h/SDC10558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238909339341649026" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYSYXvdII/AAAAAAAAAO4/RTB-9u9Xpio/s320/SDC10558.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYT7R8CXI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/0Tt_vZAJB7Q/s1600-h/SDC10566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238909365892417906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYT7R8CXI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/0Tt_vZAJB7Q/s320/SDC10566.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYTZupCUI/AAAAAAAAAPA/izXlwcMbE-s/s1600-h/SDC10563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238909356886001986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYTZupCUI/AAAAAAAAAPA/izXlwcMbE-s/s320/SDC10563.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYTmnLpJI/AAAAAAAAAPI/xVRyMGeCvSw/s1600-h/SDC10562.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238909360344376466" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRYTmnLpJI/AAAAAAAAAPI/xVRyMGeCvSw/s320/SDC10562.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW7VLGBAI/AAAAAAAAAOo/MAINC83xIKg/s1600-h/DSCF0077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238907843834676226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRW7VLGBAI/AAAAAAAAAOo/MAINC83xIKg/s320/DSCF0077.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEH HEH HEHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YESH. That girl that day, her name was Stefanie! HAHA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Somebody, hear me scream to you. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3268857067554283812?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3268857067554283812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3268857067554283812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3268857067554283812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3268857067554283812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/never-thought-itll-be-beating-so-hard.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SLRN1s5eJCI/AAAAAAAAALw/javOApzsM54/s72-c/SDC10611.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1678758734801309492</id><published>2008-08-26T16:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T16:32:10.801+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lynette Yeo, I wna drink Starbucks with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1678758734801309492?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1678758734801309492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1678758734801309492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1678758734801309492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1678758734801309492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/lynette-yeo-i-wna-drink-starbucks-with.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1671383851216161538</id><published>2008-08-25T00:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T01:28:48.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Is it that nice to exploit,&lt;br /&gt;and take advantage of?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not weak,&lt;br /&gt;I don't need the next one that comes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=black&gt;I only need . on my mind.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candy hunting but back without candy. This sucks. I have so much hopes everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so annoyed at myself for forever not knowing what is the right choice. I can't differentiate between pride and dislike. This is so unhelpful. Maybe I wanted, maybe I needed, but maybe I should have rejected, should have hated. I always go with what I should do. I don't want to be stupid. But now everything is stupid. Oh my tian I don't even understand myself anymore. I think it's because I'm deprived. Deprived of food I mean. I'm probably so hungry I can't think. I don't even know what I can get for myself tomorrow. Okay fine I'm actually really annoyed! I'm annoyed because you have to be like this! And you come right after like that! And I've got a secret and it's so terrible! It's not like I've been lying but then half truths are misrepresentations and oh gawd. I dont wna talk about law. What the helll am I talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must just be the time of the month. Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And okay, YO! Izwan, I thought I'll say hi. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1671383851216161538?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1671383851216161538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1671383851216161538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1671383851216161538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1671383851216161538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/is-it-that-nice-to-exploit-and-take.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-5965628571394942696</id><published>2008-08-24T05:47:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T06:29:04.717+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;They didn't believe me,&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe myself either.&lt;br /&gt;Well no,&lt;br /&gt;I only didn't believe it before.&lt;br /&gt;Guess the truth will convince every uncertain.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:20;"&gt;OKAY GUESS WHAT I DID?! xD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth: "At first will be very tight, you have to keep moving it to make it loose"&lt;br /&gt;Pris: *LAUGHS&lt;br /&gt;Me: (Damn it I didnt get it at first?) "But it's still very tight now"&lt;br /&gt;MORE LAUGHS.&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;Move harder la&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;LMAO! OMG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be swollen tomorrow! ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY OMG so censored! But it's all clean if you get the right um, concept. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy today. Really. (:&lt;br /&gt;ESPECIALLY OMG! LOL. WHEN VAGMACOF!! Damn shit! Everyone's gna tell me I'm so shit. I called Pris right away because I couldn't contain my excitement and of course I pagered Maryln and msged others. My cousins keep saying I'm drunk without wine since.. I don't know, all that time? HAHA RIGHT, WITH SOMETHING LIKE THAT WHY WILL I NEED WINE? I don't even need pills to get high! LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yesterday I was out with Maryln. We concluded that we took up alot of each other's time this year! SIGHZXS. It was a good day because I think we do shopping the same way. Haha. But she got no stamina one. And someone should just break her camera. T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were heading home, we wanted to avoid the crowd so we took the other way, and ended up going Paya Lebar to eat smelly toufu! OMG! Xinfu x100000!! LOL. Pictures as evidence! And finally we took a quiet train back. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHEM. Tday, went out at the last minute because some pokemon pyschoed me into pmt and I can't believe I really did, just like that. Wellll went Marina Sq :D after that to find my foam mat for my hike but I don't really think it's the right one. Heng didn't buy, I had a feeling the price was diff from what Yuesheng said, though I got to the right shop because his memory and instructions were super good. Well now I gta go back there :D to check again! But I think if I can't find the one then I probably will just buy groundsheet. Hike ma, don't really need to be so comfortable ba? x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that met my cousins and Kenneth and a girl, I forgot her name. Was it Samantha? Or Pamala? =/ They waited for me at Vivo Sakae because I selfishly wanted mochi! But in the end I ate like only half of it. ): I will get more more more when I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunty's place for a while and then The Cathay. Slacked at Starbucks. MY DARK MOCHA FRAPPACINO IS NO MOREEEEEE. ): And I only won poker ONCE. I'm sad. If only the -pro is there! Omg! I will lose willingly. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death Race is really a crazy movie. Got me all high and shocked. I didn't know I had to sit through there and watch so many people die! Yes Terry, girls were hot like ohhhhh myyyyy. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homed at 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like eventful days. Give me more eventful days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People tried to tell me to talk some sense into you,&lt;br /&gt;but I'm really not the best person.&lt;br /&gt;Please, if you still have that bit of clarity,&lt;br /&gt;think further - for the sake of everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No pictures. Aunty's com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm going to sleep. (:&lt;br /&gt;NIGHTS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-5965628571394942696?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/5965628571394942696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=5965628571394942696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5965628571394942696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5965628571394942696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/guess-what-i-did-xd-kenneth-at-first.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2991660076767504083</id><published>2008-08-23T01:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T02:21:20.410+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;If my heart's on my sleeve,&lt;br /&gt;it's not beating anymore.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I start this post, I had to sit up straight. I had to think, because everything I say will have an impact. I don't want to give you the wrong ideas, but it's intangible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I will thank you for what you have given me, except everything else that was unhappy. Nobody else had known, it was between us. I thought I could keep it wrapped beneath because I used to still believe in you. I used to think that things will change. Like every stupid girl, I thought I could change you. Maybe I finally have, but I'm sorry, it isn't about you changing anymore. You should be clearer than anyone what we went through, or rather, what I've been through these times. I wasn't strong enough to get back my life, because in the past I thought being alone was something really scary. But then boy, nothing is scarier than having no choice. After losing my mother, losing no one else will compare to her. What else worst have I not gone through? You still scare me by all the extreme things you do. All the times I've beeing loving someone I forced myself to believe in. Yes, you were a really sweet and nice boyfriend but behind all that, I don't really know who you are. All the lies, acts, things that you try to hide. I dont need to deal with all that. I should have a choice to be happier. I have begged you, forced you, pleaded with you nicely for that choice. You don't listen. The tighter you hold, the worst I feel. You never knew, because you never bothered to understand what I was trying to say. What you've always wanted was what that was most convenient to you, and I always had to forget everything you did behind my back and still smile at you. If you don't realise, it's terrible. You've done to the core, everything that I hate to discover in my love. So today, when you threatened me with death, I have given up. I will only tell everyone else in the world who cares about you, I'm sorry. Because I don't understand what you are trying to do to me by that threat. I dont like to be restrained. And yes, you have all your family members to back you up and I'm fucking left with nothing. Losing in numbers dont mean losing my rights. Stop playing with your promises, this time I'm not giving in, even if you're not giving up. Things have changed. Please, give way, for the first and one last time. I will forget everything that you've done, we might still talk. It's not war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's unfair. At the moment when everyone keep backing him up and all the msn and messages and phonecalls were about him, him and him. Life is unfair. I wonder what would my mum have done if she were still around. I'm always wondering about that. But thank God, Maryln finally picked up her &lt;s&gt;phone&lt;/s&gt; pager and she understands. I guess I was almost up the edge of the wall and having talking to her made me feel slightly more comforted. Things she told me made me felt more humane, more like my existence is for myself. Nobody else could understand. I'm just always the one in fault, he should always be the one who deserve another chance. Till the extent I dont really believe I have a right to choose anymore. I felt really happier today. Really. I've always kept our problems a secret, just to save everything. I don't wish to return to anything from the past now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it. Today was a good day. Even Maryln agreed so. Until all these had to happen. And she agreed so too. Seriously with a friend like that, one will be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I might just turn to like girls.&lt;br /&gt;Okay take it as I've never said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures another day, with the mood and all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2991660076767504083?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2991660076767504083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2991660076767504083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2991660076767504083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2991660076767504083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/if-my-hearts-on-my-sleeve-its-not.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1819753059109652243</id><published>2008-08-21T03:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T03:39:21.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BYEBYE LAW (One)!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had Law paper in the afternoon (yesterday afternoon?) and HAHAHA BYEBYE A! I tried to study that morning before like, 12plus midnight and then I ended up moving my hands from the book to the keyboard. LOL. Charleston cant give me the white lawyer wig anymore because I've burnt my A. T.T Slept at 3 and I was supposed to wake up at 5 to study so obviously I couldnt. Then I woke up at 8 and studied on my way to school. Met Maryln and studied somemore. With so many many distractions in between. Hahaha. I cannot have my camera with me omg. I can't do anything if it keeps attracting me to it. *Ahem. But if I don't have it then it feels like something important is missing. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we got sick of staying at the FC so we went to T155blah first. The whole corridor was ours because we were so early. I couldn't study anymore so I started taking stupid pictures. Omg damn self-obsessed. I mean Maryln. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtT2wBbOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5bgANWVyn64/s1600-h/SDC10507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236680654606920930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtT2wBbOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5bgANWVyn64/s320/SDC10507.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Handy NYAA booklet.LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtUDq1vrI/AAAAAAAAALA/PRJFQ1scK4o/s1600-h/SDC10508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236680658074844850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtUDq1vrI/AAAAAAAAALA/PRJFQ1scK4o/s320/SDC10508.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maryln: Tear up your Law Books for a brighter smile, *Smiles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtUisee9I/AAAAAAAAALI/tpi8MrHIz2c/s1600-h/SDC10521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236680666403208146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtUisee9I/AAAAAAAAALI/tpi8MrHIz2c/s320/SDC10521.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where's my hand. T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtVCJhmXI/AAAAAAAAALY/WCMEPl41XM0/s1600-h/SDC10510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236680674846546290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtVCJhmXI/AAAAAAAAALY/WCMEPl41XM0/s320/SDC10510.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We're studying. REALLY! Not taking photos. Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtU9zouVI/AAAAAAAAALQ/INbQwnECXBI/s1600-h/SDC10522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236680673680996690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtU9zouVI/AAAAAAAAALQ/INbQwnECXBI/s320/SDC10522.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dontrmbwho: Did you study finish?&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: *silence, HAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;Me: What?&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: You know I just realised you cant study 'finish' because you can only study law&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am supposed to start studying Construction tmr. Okayyy. *Ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I had a better day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I dont know how to tell you how much things have changed. I dont know how to tell you things probably cant be the same. You've exhausted my patience and it's hard keeping up the forgiveness. Yes, this time round I'm not even trying. If you know the truth, it will suck. Because the truth is humiliating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm afraid it is hard to contain this excitement, I might start to doubt my sanity.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know why, but you're perfect from this distance.&lt;br /&gt;But you're another intangible,&lt;br /&gt;a fatal mistake to be.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might regret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1819753059109652243?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1819753059109652243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1819753059109652243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1819753059109652243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1819753059109652243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/byebye-law-one-had-law-paper-in.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SKxtT2wBbOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5bgANWVyn64/s72-c/SDC10507.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-124511425139717914</id><published>2008-08-19T00:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T00:45:14.764+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lose mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-124511425139717914?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/124511425139717914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=124511425139717914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/124511425139717914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/124511425139717914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/lose-mood.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7237395057391244118</id><published>2008-08-18T01:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T00:40:48.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Whatever that saves you from destruction...&lt;br /&gt;is destroying me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what people are trying to do. I'm not stupid.&lt;br /&gt;Why does scheming exists within a family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a break. Maybe I'll just slip away during the Mount Yong Yap climb. Stay in a cave and emo until I starve to death. I don't even want to die in the presence of the people I know because I can't stand people acting like they care. Omg. I want to leave everything behind. I want to have my choices back. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't someone, just give way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7237395057391244118?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7237395057391244118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7237395057391244118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7237395057391244118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7237395057391244118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/whatever-that-saves-you-from.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1290647292745026713</id><published>2008-08-16T12:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T12:46:31.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;How much does remembering show that you care?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuses and reasons. Some people dont have a clear differentiate of these two. There is no such thing, as a good excuse. Although you can use a poor reason. I dont know if it is important to know but I get pretty particular about it. I dont like to have excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I randomly remembered the National Day shirts Nette and I had last year. We bought plain red tees and wrote we love Singapore on it. We as in, Pat and Nette. Haha. Super cute. I miss her! But I will meet her someday since her bags are (still) with me. And her discs are (still) with Rachel. And Yangyang's card is with (yes, no still) me! And the last time I had Frappucino was with them. Omg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont like my hair already. It's giving me problems. }:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love exams. They mean an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Byebye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1290647292745026713?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1290647292745026713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1290647292745026713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1290647292745026713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1290647292745026713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-much-does-remembering-show-that-you.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4391677918602001125</id><published>2008-08-09T21:38:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T22:17:18.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;At the other end of the world there is war, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;should there be more love here?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-inserts Shion TWL singing Michel Jackson's Change the World-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realised that tension between Georgia and Russia is really rising. Over what? The same things. Territory, authority, power. Thousands of people died, but did Russia care about that? SU had already fallen, nearing twenty years. There are all sorts of people out there, holding on to the most intensive and threatening things. And what am I doing here? Will it be more important to learn how to stop war, than how to plan events?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;National Day Parade 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not pay much attention to it. But I can imagine it. Yes, I really want to be part of the organising committee for this event some year. It is target that I have set for myself so I know where to go. This is my goal. But sometimes it becomes distant. While I watched abit of the parade on teevee I mentally list out everything that needed to be coordinated. Lightings sounds stage logistics plan setting, performers costumes themes, audiences previews tickets goodie bags, timing SAF government emcees, broadcasting encoring advertising, even backstage, helpers motivators cleaners workers, so much more. I know everything isn't under one person alone. But what exactly is the manpower distribution? Definitely not as simple as our little Racial Harmony event. This is grand; its national. Everyone locally knows about it. So what does it take to organize it? I will feel that this is even more challenging than things like IMF or World Cities Summit. It's always harder to entertain. Nobody can tell if tiny fry me will ever be able to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still. want. to. try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and Gentlemen and to whom else it may concern,&lt;br /&gt;Please stop wearing colored contact lenses. Heed the advice.&lt;br /&gt;And no, nothing happened to my eyes but just heed the advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The intention of my blog isn't to let you know who am I. It just to let you know what's more I think of. Negative posts does not make me a negative person. Nor a different person from what you know me. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, nobody knows everything about me. There is a limit to what you can decipher from my words and my actions. Or even analyse my decisions. Even if you know everything that happened to me, you still do not know everything about me. Like I never will totally know you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th Friday gone, Sarahj. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway congrates to Team Ambassadors for completing Poly50! You guys were really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 - 44th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 - Wont be a question mark {:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SJ2kXURqKrI/AAAAAAAAAKw/jOePRvLmf1U/s1600-h/IMG0048A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232519062561106610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SJ2kXURqKrI/AAAAAAAAAKw/jOePRvLmf1U/s320/IMG0048A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And you for letting me forcefully bite you and getting crabsticks and sotong balls for me and massaging my feet although it is 100% your bed's fault. And singing Change The World (or whatever song it is) when I'm being so concerned about lives, but not singing when I want to record. -.- And having confidence in me to become the first female president in Singapore. LOL. You're so annoying because you keep waking me up to make me fat when you cant even though you at so much more. And STOP DISTURBING ME WHEN I'M BLOGGING! Stop wasting rice too. The pimples are appearing on your own face! If you disturb me then no more facials for you. xP I want queenstown fruit yoghurt. Let's specially take a bus down for that. Hee. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love you. {:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4391677918602001125?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4391677918602001125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4391677918602001125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4391677918602001125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4391677918602001125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/at-other-end-of-world-there-is-war.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SJ2kXURqKrI/AAAAAAAAAKw/jOePRvLmf1U/s72-c/IMG0048A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3845200135529272417</id><published>2008-08-05T10:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T11:27:09.692+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Things keeps clashing,&lt;br /&gt;it's harder than a matter of commitment,&lt;br /&gt;but where does my loyalty lie?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised it's not that I havent been planning my time but it is so full of last minutes. I couldnt even properly set aside a Friday for Sarahj nor a good Saturday for SPARC. Or even a decent weekday for my Aunty. Even if I leave all my schoolwork and assignments aside, how do I divide myself between everyone? Especially, when this isn't all that will come. Is it because I suck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I understand, it's not that important to have you.&lt;br /&gt;Rather, I'm glad of having had you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I remember times when I found comfort in your prescence just because no one else was there. And you spoke like you understood me, I thought you were like the usual out of your mind. But now it's true, though not everything you said is true. Things about them werent correct, you're not around anymore to really understand that. I really regret not having been more loving to you, but it's too late because it can be taken as I can say anything I want now. I still wished you can suddenly appear and stand by me during times when I needed alot of help, but even if you were still around would you have come? I know, it's my fault. I should have been able to stop some things if I was more bothered. I will stare into darkness, hoping I can make out your silhouette. If you would come back.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited the old supreme court on a little tour thing and that place gives the creeps. But then we were in a group and taking pictures got things all exciting. In my opinion, I rather the old supreme court than the new. Because the old one has the significance there and the new one blends in like some building. They even have the old ancient lift and the infrastructure. I wonder what goes through the minds of people who thinks changing is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I take a reading about my life, it is generally well and safe. But I have never heard of the price I have to pay. Why didnt they ever write about things I will lose? If I had a choice, can I rearrange everything, cant I ever decide myself? I'm not a pessimist. It's just even if I'm persistent in things I want I may still never get them. It's okay to feel sad about things like that, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw that converse shoe that I liked from so long ago at Beach Rd, but the colour sucks and baby does not like it. He does not like alot of things that I like. I think I will forget about it now. At least he opened his bigbig heart and let me cut my hair. Though I will still prefer it to be shorter T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont like this week.&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3845200135529272417?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3845200135529272417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3845200135529272417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3845200135529272417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3845200135529272417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/08/things-keeps-clashing-its-harder-than.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6661720332479678735</id><published>2008-07-30T22:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T22:54:40.057+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;It's not that I want to hide,&lt;br /&gt;it's because it's unfavourable,&lt;br /&gt;I have to hide.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln says when she reads my blog she feels like she dont know me. But then when I read her blog I think it's so typically her. I think that's the greatest difference between us, among with others like every individual has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway President! Why you understand Mr. Chan? o.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has changed alot. So have I. I love doing SPARC duties, I love the whole feeling of the uniform on me. Somehow it is a CCA that lets me put everything aside when I do my duties. As in literally because I can even put lessons aside. When I do duty, there is only one focus that I am allowed, that is making the event a successful one. I still get nervous on the lines before I need to get up and usher anyone. But I dont feel against it.  Never before in my life I had thought I'll be involved in something like this. That feeling is, indescrible. Now my last duty is done, I have no more awaiting duties and I feel so empty. But then the duties are limited and if I confirm in for alot I feel it's quite unfair to others. Like I've already done 3 and some only had 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I even got to get on tv with Zhao because we did the signing of the Memorandum of Cooperation between SP and Bizman's duty. BPM is really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that the coporate world is very challenging, yet something very tempting. Jackets, blouses, court shoes, professionalism, presentability, make up (&lt;em&gt;a lady without make up is like a guy unshaven&lt;/em&gt;), confidence, communication, being useful. It's like the ultimate civilised of the civilised. People are aggressive, yet there is that smile. It's not being fake, to me it's like the most fascinating way of living both sides. Get things done without tarnishing their personal relationships. I've always admired people who can handle matters in such ways. Successful people, even the way they talk; it's different. I can't say I want to be one of them, but I do look up to them. At least, I want to know how to reach half of that standard. I dont want to live till 30 without the opportunity to wear a jacket. It's prestige, it's honour. Some people never even been in a pair of court shoes before. It's a difference. Or maybe I've painted it too beautifully, when it's abit different in the real world. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been physically and mentally tired for the past few days. From Sunday I think. Today I woke up at 6 with my eyelids barely open. For once I wasn't tired because I was surfing the web or addicted to the tv. I was so busy I couldnt find the time to lean back and rest. Even during lessons only half of me was there. I dont even have the energy to touch tutorials. T.T Throughout the day I can even feel myself drifting away but I have to pull myself back. So much important things to see through. I'm glad I've completed my stuffs with considerable amount of awakeness. It feels good. Thank God for Thursdays to sleep in late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited for tomorrow. I wna cut my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget about growing it long. I really dont have that kind of 2year patience. }:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm eating alot these few days. I feel like I suddenly understand Justin's appetite! It's really like an endless hole. It still feels empty even though I've eaten so much things. This is bad. I'm binging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing about my love today. Well I shall just add a little something. He's a kopi kia in his camp now because I think his Sir is a gay and thinks that he has a gay and feminine face so he can serve the big shots well. But he thinks that it's because he's the top four of the platoon thats why his Major chose him. What? Top 4 go be kopi kia? Baby you kid me too much. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I get in to help the F1 event.  Keep my fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, Friday, and the cycle starts again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6661720332479678735?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6661720332479678735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6661720332479678735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6661720332479678735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6661720332479678735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-not-that-i-want-to-hide-its-because.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1272898370621083282</id><published>2008-07-28T00:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T00:46:01.235+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;If you can tell me my reason in life,&lt;br /&gt;I will deny you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I needed more than words,&lt;br /&gt;but even words had faded into whispers.&lt;br /&gt;Till dawn warms the metallic cold,&lt;br /&gt;pain will echo through those veins.&lt;br /&gt;To make me remember what I did,&lt;br /&gt;trying to burn the guilt and scald my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Yet never again will I calm down by that slap.&lt;br /&gt;Because unfortunately, the conscious had frozen.&lt;br /&gt;So tonight,&lt;br /&gt;no matter how much you have to say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it doesn't work on me.&lt;br /&gt;I wont stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not anymore.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1272898370621083282?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1272898370621083282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1272898370621083282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1272898370621083282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1272898370621083282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/if-you-can-tell-me-my-reason-in-life-i.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7329531838814644847</id><published>2008-07-27T23:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:07.784+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I too used to loving you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;so is that fair?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Picture of the Day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIyT1O6hbAI/AAAAAAAAAKo/jz0jZSGW7og/s1600-h/DSCF1101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227715810216209410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIyT1O6hbAI/AAAAAAAAAKo/jz0jZSGW7og/s320/DSCF1101.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26th July&lt;br /&gt;Racial Harmony Day Celebration 2008 @ Khatib.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasnt exactly attached anywhere.. because for the food stalls Weitian and Zhenglin were tending so I just popped over occasionally. I was the photographer! Abby and I felt so tiny in front of the pro people but we still did our jobs (: I took like 500+ pictures. And after filtering I left like, 200+ not too bad ones. THAT'S LIKE, SAD LA. omggg. Haha. But then I had like, 10 pictures of the GOH flipping prata. Another 15 of her weaving ketupat. Similar pictures =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall I think the event was quite successful. Yay for our class! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a super confusing day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lies can break everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm so drained.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously I feel like being in bed for the whole week, or the whole month. I will try to save $2000 and pluck out my wisdom tooth. Or I dont mind getting dengue or what. As long as I can recover and dont die. It'll be too much of a trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till the end, nothing changed.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know if that was the best decision, I really dont.&lt;br /&gt;I just dont feel like admitting the mistake yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Busy week. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7329531838814644847?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7329531838814644847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7329531838814644847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7329531838814644847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7329531838814644847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-too-used-to-loving-you-so-is-that.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIyT1O6hbAI/AAAAAAAAAKo/jz0jZSGW7og/s72-c/DSCF1101.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8447641226652525539</id><published>2008-07-24T13:06:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:18.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I just wna lie in your arms,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU9B5-fvI/AAAAAAAAAJg/2DWDEOd5PlE/s1600-h/SDC10044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226450406279642866" style="" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU9B5-fvI/AAAAAAAAAJg/2DWDEOd5PlE/s320/SDC10044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU9RKI0II/AAAAAAAAAJo/bT3QJvhvm6A/s1600-h/SDC10072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226450410373959810" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU9RKI0II/AAAAAAAAAJo/bT3QJvhvm6A/s320/SDC10072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRgBSRw9I/AAAAAAAAAI4/oi7Jk48sPqU/s1600-h/SDC10033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226446609362043858" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRgBSRw9I/AAAAAAAAAI4/oi7Jk48sPqU/s320/SDC10033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRhLQ90TI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/-RoEWx3f014/s1600-h/DSCF0624.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226446629220766002" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRhLQ90TI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/-RoEWx3f014/s320/DSCF0624.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRgV8b8tI/AAAAAAAAAJA/UC5fvnl5tLk/s1600-h/SDC10043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226446614907581138" style="" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRgV8b8tI/AAAAAAAAAJA/UC5fvnl5tLk/s320/SDC10043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRgypfn3I/AAAAAAAAAJI/7Ze7x3Aa9Gk/s1600-h/SDC10052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226446622612758386" style="" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgRgypfn3I/AAAAAAAAAJI/7Ze7x3Aa9Gk/s320/SDC10052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU85n6DcI/AAAAAAAAAJY/RdPyp_am08A/s1600-h/SDC10040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226450404056370626" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU85n6DcI/AAAAAAAAAJY/RdPyp_am08A/s320/SDC10040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXDwY-g6I/AAAAAAAAAKI/zif4qnke-kM/s1600-h/IMG0318A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXDwY-g6I/AAAAAAAAAKI/zif4qnke-kM/s320/IMG0318A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226593458348524450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXD0IUlYI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/SMKQPpvOppI/s1600-h/IMG0325A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXD0IUlYI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/SMKQPpvOppI/s320/IMG0325A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226593459352409474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXTkATDyI/AAAAAAAAAKg/-LsYtUI8vi4/s1600-h/IMG0321A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXTkATDyI/AAAAAAAAAKg/-LsYtUI8vi4/s320/IMG0321A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226593729901694754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXEGMjyhI/AAAAAAAAAKY/xOHCeSApIj4/s1600-h/IMG0323A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIiXEGMjyhI/AAAAAAAAAKY/xOHCeSApIj4/s320/IMG0323A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226593464202021394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;here tonight.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Materials stage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgZsyH15NI/AAAAAAAAAJw/cIX8fDhiE-M/s1600-h/Image024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226455624723064018" style="" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgZsyH15NI/AAAAAAAAAJw/cIX8fDhiE-M/s320/Image024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one year ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgZs31FqPI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/jnp9kc1quTE/s1600-h/IMG0301A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226455626255018226" style="" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgZs31FqPI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/jnp9kc1quTE/s320/IMG0301A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired. IT application class hasnt even started although we have one hour left. I came one hour late and sat here for two hours without doing anything. Nicole and Karol going around doing henna. I got one on my handddd :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw Nicco!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And waiting for lesson to start. Or end. It's supposed to end at 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8447641226652525539?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8447641226652525539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8447641226652525539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8447641226652525539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8447641226652525539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/only-two.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SIgU9B5-fvI/AAAAAAAAAJg/2DWDEOd5PlE/s72-c/SDC10044.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1052228218548072211</id><published>2008-07-23T13:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T14:05:56.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Scratches. Subconciousness. Wrench.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know what I've been up to these few days either but then... nevermind. Sat was SPARC outing and project doing and Student Network Forum. Guess which one I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today; Leo's I+I rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Friday; Final preparations for Sat, see Sarahj&lt;br /&gt;Sat; Morning; SPARC training, Evening; EVENT DAY!&lt;br /&gt;Sun; Mediacorp event at SP&lt;br /&gt;Monday; Class bbq + MOU signing rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday; MOU signing duty&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday; Minister dialogue + Leo's I+I Ceremony&lt;br /&gt;Friday; Supreme court visit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm happy to be involved in SPARC activities. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Headaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay there's actually nothing much to update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAHBYE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1052228218548072211?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1052228218548072211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1052228218548072211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1052228218548072211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1052228218548072211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/scratches.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7801969193098582886</id><published>2008-07-16T14:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:19.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;The days are longer than the nights,&lt;br /&gt;even if you thought a night took a thousand years.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIZgzPFI/AAAAAAAAAIg/SdZw__5mygU/s1600-h/DSC00762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIZgzPFI/AAAAAAAAAIg/SdZw__5mygU/s320/DSC00762.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223499512386108498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Destroy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIsZidLI/AAAAAAAAAIo/EpAbJu-fhKM/s1600-h/IMG0300A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIsZidLI/AAAAAAAAAIo/EpAbJu-fhKM/s320/IMG0300A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223499517455922354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DREW THIS! Nobody gets out of drawing class without feeling heavy in the head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIp-cJOI/AAAAAAAAAIw/aVKB_r0J2Vg/s1600-h/aete.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIp-cJOI/AAAAAAAAAIw/aVKB_r0J2Vg/s320/aete.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223499516805391586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And food makes us happyyy (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard somethings that I'm not comfortable with, although the bad intentions arent there. I guess nobody wants to lose out. And nobody can always perfectly contain this desire. It's so obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want win, win lor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minister dialogue later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7801969193098582886?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7801969193098582886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7801969193098582886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7801969193098582886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7801969193098582886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-are-longer-than-nights-even-if-you.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SH2ZIZgzPFI/AAAAAAAAAIg/SdZw__5mygU/s72-c/DSC00762.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6620083564931393822</id><published>2008-07-15T22:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:19.558+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Never will more whips on the heart make it used to,&lt;br /&gt;nor make it any less painful at the next stroke.&lt;br /&gt;Half the tears of my lifetime have shed for one reason,&lt;br /&gt;like the blood that drains from a tightened chest.&lt;br /&gt;But nothing will change and nothing will stop,&lt;br /&gt;time will never be able to rescind,&lt;br /&gt;your duties never void.&lt;br /&gt;The losing wont stop, the ripping wont cease.&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing left to say,&lt;br /&gt;nothing more to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing left to hope, right in the first place.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read my past entries and there are some emotions that I've seem to have forgotten, and then it comes back and suddenly overwhelms me again. Maybe I shouldnt have. Because things are awfully still the same now and going to be for the next 18 months. I have to, unfortunately, still contain every whirlwind that comes along inside of me. I just wish for you to be safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a fine slack day. Completed most of the tutorials and we felt quite free. Did alot of random things. Blahblah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHy770vbiaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/AjRtStRz3zA/s1600-h/IMG0297A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHy770vbiaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/AjRtStRz3zA/s320/IMG0297A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223256304287189410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, not so soon again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want to play catching with you on the streets again,&lt;br /&gt;we'll sing everywhere,&lt;br /&gt;laugh, joke, and hugs.&lt;br /&gt;But that we can have now,&lt;br /&gt;how can it be enough.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still had alot of things to update. But then, somethings are making me lose mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6620083564931393822?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6620083564931393822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6620083564931393822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6620083564931393822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6620083564931393822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/never-will-more-whips-on-heart-make-it.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHy770vbiaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/AjRtStRz3zA/s72-c/IMG0297A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2071192679533662500</id><published>2008-07-12T03:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T03:17:16.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So much about hugs today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave my buddy a HUG today! I so didnt expect to see her and I was just missing her a few hours before I bumped into her. }:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt expect the hug either. Especially when in the afternoon I was almost traumatised by Sage. And during care and concern presentation. o.O Haha. No la, no bad feelings. {: I dont know whats wrong with me and hugs. I dont know why I wna hug someone badly sometimes, but never want any others to even come close. I just want people to &lt;i&gt;fucking&lt;/i&gt; let go if they hug me and I dont like it because I totally dont feel comfortable with it. Then people ask 'what about my boyfriend'. Well if I dont want to hug my boyfriend then why is he even my boyfriend? Haha. Makes sense right. I think baby understands this. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont wna sleep early because I wna wake up really really late tomorrow. And then I dont have to pull it through for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gna join photography club. And rockclimbing club. To do my NYAA. Justin No. 2. No, he got Focus already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With so many things I wna get involved with I have an evil secret. A very impossible hope. Then I guess there's not much to wish for. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have another secret to tell baby. }: If it were to be the other way round, if he told me sth like what I'll tell him, I probably whack him and then ignore him until... until idk. Until I stop feeling angry. Rahh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay whatever. My eyes are closing. Stupid time to sleep. Definitely no Sausage McMuffin w/o egg. Did I happen to tell you I'm addicted to that for breakfast? (: I'll wake up at an awkward time for sure. And then.. I wont know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I'm not even meant to be free and blogging right now.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2071192679533662500?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2071192679533662500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2071192679533662500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2071192679533662500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2071192679533662500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-much-about-hugs-today.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1301217402560473934</id><published>2008-07-10T21:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T22:24:41.105+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;She wants to go home,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;but nobody's home.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but there's no home.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I get used to it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know my emotions put alot of pressure on you. I know my temper's worst than a landmine when it comes to you. But it's only you who knows everything. I never needed anyone to try helping me. So I guess I just throw everything to you. Things have changed. Other people who I knew from the inside out are gone. You carry every single weight of my moodswings, but you never complained although everytime you feel helpless because you dont really get me. I'm sorry. Sorry. I love you lots lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does my hair take so longggggggg to grow. It's annoying me. Now I feel like chopping everything off again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President just freaked me out. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though girls may blog about things they dislike instead of verbalising it, we do that for things we like also la! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway my ear is bleedingggggggg oh nooooo. KPO hands go and poke my earholes with staple bullets. Because I havent been wearing earsticks for so long so I wonder if my holes have closed. Then so happy I can poke through the first 4, and then I feel blood. T.T Now if it doesn't stop before I sleep, gna be damn gross when I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. Stop bleeding already. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. No more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYEBYE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND 4S LOVES &gt; the-4sninjas.blogspot.com!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1301217402560473934?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1301217402560473934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1301217402560473934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1301217402560473934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1301217402560473934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/she-wants-to-go-home-but-nobodys-home.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1066813965311038032</id><published>2008-07-09T09:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:21.580+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;You'll be thankful that I hadnt blogged for so long.&lt;br /&gt;At least I wont put my frustration down as words,&lt;br /&gt;as straightforward as I wished to have said it right to your face.&lt;br /&gt;I really, really dislike you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: "I want to open up a Maryln fanclub website, then everyone who loves me will come and join"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: "I really want to make it come true"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in her 'Maryln' tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA. SEE. I blogged about it yo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very very hectic week last week. But then again, it's over. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have ALOT of tutorials to hand in and many miscellanous things to do. tskk. But I guess you feel accomplished after everything. BUT NOT, when everything is not over. Alright alright, jiayouuuuuu. D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZK was right in someway or another. Girls tend to keep things to ourselves but blrahhhh everything out in a blog post. Paragraphs and paragraphs of the things they got annoyed about. Well maybe not all, but people like this exists. Luckily, I dont have much time to blog (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Unknowingly, you're becoming one of those people you hate.&lt;br /&gt;Will you do something about it,&lt;br /&gt;or are you starting to enjoy this?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to take night buses. At 10+ or 11pm. Especially if it's double-deck and I can take the very very front seat. Times like that I dont even need any emo songs to feel abit down. Think about life, all that happened in my past 17 years. I cant even find any reason to feel at home. I dont know where is home anymore. All I have is shelters, to pass the night, to put my stuffs, to stay up temporary. Where am I supposed to go at the end of the day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidenote;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: 'Kay I shall create Maryln.com [now]'&lt;br /&gt;Me: -.-&lt;br /&gt;Maryln: 'You'll be the first member okay?'&lt;br /&gt;Me: *Ignore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spoil my emo mood. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont mind blogging about things that I feel sad about. There's nothing to hide. I dont have the need to pretend to have things that I will never get. But I should be contented, afterall my life's always been on the 'safe, decent' side. I see where am I now, I should be glad about it. It's the future that I have to work abit harder than others for. Things that they have ready, I dont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like I was never pressurized, or traumatized whatever, before. But it's your own choice to either stay upright or become a screw. What is smoking? What is drinking? What are vulgarities? They dont let you become richer, smarter, not even better complexion (stupid). Okay fine maybe you do become richer with some lies. Maybe it has become a kind of playhouse for you. But what was all that you're sacrificing? The hyprocrisy, the indifference about your self-destruction. I know, and it's not like I wanted to, I digged for, or I choose to know. I rather not. I dont know who you are to me now, really. Good thing, because I dont want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Law is over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*POOF. I'm at Materials now. HAHAHA. Stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG everything in this post is so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NVM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhhk7oa2I/AAAAAAAAAHg/aaAPDFxp3fU/s1600-h/IMG0270A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220834728762436450" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhhk7oa2I/AAAAAAAAAHg/aaAPDFxp3fU/s320/IMG0270A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY AUNTY! WOooooO. Pretty doughnuts. Supposed to have marshmellows! But still as pretty pretty. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQkQyJdH8I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/CyvUKcUZhxI/s1600-h/IMG0272A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQkQyJdH8I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/CyvUKcUZhxI/s320/IMG0272A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220837738787184578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhhW-gEdI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/G43uLb6ySrk/s1600-h/IMG0224A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220834725016375762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhhW-gEdI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/G43uLb6ySrk/s320/IMG0224A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, another cute strawberry cake almost squashed to death by Maryln's destructive hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhheaIkZI/AAAAAAAAAHY/TxPlFl-aZyY/s1600-h/IMG0248A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220834727011324306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhheaIkZI/AAAAAAAAAHY/TxPlFl-aZyY/s320/IMG0248A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nette's and my teeny weeny frappacino. DAMN GOOD. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhh5AAvrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/U7bcLFarzeg/s1600-h/IMG0268A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220834734149516978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhh5AAvrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/U7bcLFarzeg/s320/IMG0268A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our First Bus Ride, with her classic hand pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhh9Y1yqI/AAAAAAAAAHw/o5qx9pLnr6k/s1600-h/IMG0259A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220834735327398562" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhh9Y1yqI/AAAAAAAAAHw/o5qx9pLnr6k/s320/IMG0259A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy SPARCkies! Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQizA2a0tI/AAAAAAAAAIA/4Qj4gyhnTOY/s1600-h/IMG0255A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220836127826170578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQizA2a0tI/AAAAAAAAAIA/4Qj4gyhnTOY/s320/IMG0255A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LEE fell asleep WHEN he was CALLING a food supplier! LOL. You can imagine when he woke up. The person probably hang up already. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQizPG27iI/AAAAAAAAAII/qk5K-cduBCY/s1600-h/IMG0256A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220836131653217826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQizPG27iI/AAAAAAAAAII/qk5K-cduBCY/s320/IMG0256A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CLASSIC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQiy2w4IWI/AAAAAAAAAH4/7OmruKL-TDo/s1600-h/IMG0262A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220836125118570850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQiy2w4IWI/AAAAAAAAAH4/7OmruKL-TDo/s320/IMG0262A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loveslovesloves! I thought his eyes were getting bigger but then, he totally spoilt his own chances. Heeeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wna go OUT! }: &lt;br /&gt;Call meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the tutorials are keeping me in. Aiyoooooooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Chan just told me not to disappoint him and come for lessons. o.O I guess teachers/lecturers alike, believes in the student's prescence, and has alot of self-confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is kinda a long post. And I dont feel like continuing! Yay so I will stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEE EVERYONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1066813965311038032?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1066813965311038032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1066813965311038032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1066813965311038032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1066813965311038032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/07/youll-be-thankful-that-i-hadnt-blogged.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SHQhhk7oa2I/AAAAAAAAAHg/aaAPDFxp3fU/s72-c/IMG0270A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1990804875925494499</id><published>2008-06-30T11:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T12:03:09.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Friday, 27th June&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up with Rachel Lynette Yang and Swee in the evening! For this I gave up fetching baby. Maybe in the past I wouldnt have, BUT IT'S SO FREAKING HARD TO FINALLY MEET UP W THESE GIRLS! Oh well. Met at Cityhall. We were supposed to meet at 4, then 430, and then everyone reached at 5. Haha. TYPICAL CAN! Haha. And I finally see SWEE LENG. I &lt;i&gt;heard&lt;/i&gt; that Eunice isnt a cave woman anymore, but I dont know somehow I still dont see her anywhere. -.- We had fun, catching up with each other's lives. We cant walk around, we just needed a place to sit down n crap. Haha. I dont miss Cedar. But I do wna see you all more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before that I was at SPARC. We went to watch a movie at library. Haha. The big tv was there but there wasnt any vcd player, so Firman opened up his laptop and the five of us watched that small screen. Sweet movie, I guess. o.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson time for MONDAY, is like 8-12, 1-5. MONDAY OF ALL DAYS! I have Monday Blues. Very often. &gt;: But it's okay. Jiayou jiayou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After-school events:&lt;br /&gt;Today: Srgn with Aunty to do stuffs&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: Meet Sweeleng, or Maryln for proj&lt;br /&gt;Wed: Project?&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: Cedar with nette and yang for grad cert&lt;br /&gt;Friday: SPARC NYAA meeting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby's father got him a HD tv for his room right after he bought his Xbox 360.&lt;br /&gt;While I dont even know how to address that guy who took part in creating me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a very random post. I'm like having makeup lesson for Materials during Materials lesson. So there's only 8 of us sitting in front and I dont know. He ignores every comment so I'm giving up asking. I want back my papers so I know how I died. Sigh. That day ZK and Hafiz were saying how 3.6 is 'low', I feel so demoralized. Even my DPA GEMS were a tiny 3.65. I feel so small. But then, it's always been like that anyway. BUT THEN! Scholars have to be top 10% of the cohort, meaning Jazreel and I have to fight for the top 6 in our cohort of 120. I DONT THINK SOOOOO! &gt;.&lt; I'm just waiting to be dropped out. &gt;: I dont wna remain in the program just because I'm 'pulled up' or what. It should go to people who deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my roommate's room like kena forced open leh. No it wasnt forced open, just signs of being forced open. And we suspect the person used the scissors from the kitchen because the scissors head was totally broken. But I went home the door was locked! So we were quite appalled by the event. Feels kinda unsafe now that you know people can just get in and out. =/ Doesnt help when she told me two of her friends lost laptops there. I want extra locks! &gt;:/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not happy with my Materials score but neverminddd.I think I got no rights to complain because I really didnt work hard enough. And it's really an alright score I guess. Nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay no more random things to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEE EVERYONE! {:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1990804875925494499?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1990804875925494499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1990804875925494499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1990804875925494499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1990804875925494499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/friday-27th-june-met-up-with-rachel.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1027745260462091411</id><published>2008-06-29T21:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:21.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I've said words, more than you were hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Why do you still try so hard,&lt;br /&gt;with the same gentleness just to keep my heart?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baby: So what did you text my mum just now?&lt;br /&gt;me: Nth much la, just thank her for the porridge just now blah blah&lt;br /&gt;baby: Chey like that only. Why never say something more romantic&lt;br /&gt;me: Like what?&lt;br /&gt;baby: Like 'aunty I will be with your son forever' or something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA ISNT HE CUTEEEEEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SGeS49cdSII/AAAAAAAAAHI/yR5_pWaJkzo/s1600-h/IMG0253A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217300200596260994" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SGeS49cdSII/AAAAAAAAAHI/yR5_pWaJkzo/s320/IMG0253A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Shit I think I look cuter. LOL JOKING LOVE!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much things to do. I'm tired. There are still stuffs at Srgn that I need to get. Time-table's changed and the days feel so much longer now. How unhelpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want sleep. (Right, since when I dont.) So I'm totally gna skip everything else I wanted blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1027745260462091411?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1027745260462091411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1027745260462091411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1027745260462091411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1027745260462091411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/ive-said-words-more-than-you-were-hurt.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SGeS49cdSII/AAAAAAAAAHI/yR5_pWaJkzo/s72-c/IMG0253A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8898159457789974146</id><published>2008-06-26T22:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T01:21:12.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts to let go,&lt;br /&gt;but I've been fighting for something so ambiguous.&lt;br /&gt;Hoping for something so distant.&lt;br /&gt;Living on the words that will never be said again.&lt;br /&gt;I never thought all of us will be back,&lt;br /&gt;a heart hurting abit more then last year,&lt;br /&gt;with the same midnight talk that then wraps the swell up.&lt;br /&gt;If it isnt for this last night,&lt;br /&gt;would fate have allowed me everything I've seen?&lt;br /&gt;I still have a question unanswered.&lt;br /&gt;It is this question that tugs the pain after so long.&lt;br /&gt;But your words will never be said again.&lt;br /&gt;Please, even if you made me stay I dont want to watch you.&lt;br /&gt;I wont loosen, but I will look away.&lt;br /&gt;I have someone who loves me so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8898159457789974146?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8898159457789974146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8898159457789974146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8898159457789974146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8898159457789974146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/it-hurts-to-let-go-but-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6326514795052495582</id><published>2008-06-26T13:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T14:28:31.092+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;The end of world is at the moment you believe it's tomorrow.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13days and SO F MUCH has happened. And when it's too much I'm like so lazy to blog about it. I've missed the scholars programmes n stuffs because I went to Malaysia. And in Malaysia I didnt do anything much except falling sick in the 24/7 air-con house. And was entertained by midnight shows. And gossips. Then I came back Singapore to the World City Summit event. Helped out at registration and LKY awards. Seen alot of weird people, annoying people, happy people, smart people, whatever. It was very tiring but at least I really gained that experience. And there were good food. REALLY GOOD FOOD! Damn much better than baby-knows-what. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to get fat but I want to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I seriously had GOOD FOOD during WCS! And a probably not that good pay but I made it a point not to spend so much so, it's still alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've SEEN THROUGH events. I like it. Although it may sound sadistic to like all the political implications. It brings me somewhere. Events industry does not provide a glam job. It's not like when the event goes on you can walk around in heels and supervise the event itself, pretending you know everything and coming up with lies to entertain enquiries. You are &lt;b&gt;there&lt;/b&gt; (well it should be this way), running the event, handling the participants, dealing with all the shit. But the whole idea of knowing what is going on and overcoming all the crazy things. It's unimaginable. I dont think I will give up events for any other course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See! We're happy as we work.&lt;br /&gt;I get very distracted during IT lessons. I think this is a bad habit of mine. I tend to just predict everything that can happen in the next few moments and then I get uninterested. Like watching movies with 5-8 mins of chasing scenes. I cannot tolerate it. Like Kung Fu Dunk. The lecturer is like, progressing to acheive somethings which I already can expect so everything becomes boring. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realised that the purpose of the SPOT programme is to train us to ministers-to-be. I only knew when I heard it from Karol and then I went to SP website and read it. &gt;.&lt; Whyyyy. Haiyo. I really just needed the school fees. Nevermind. Just enjoy this priviledge for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dont like it when our time together is threatened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6326514795052495582?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6326514795052495582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6326514795052495582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6326514795052495582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6326514795052495582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/end-of-world-is-at-moment-you-believe.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1639359608644247979</id><published>2008-06-13T00:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T00:53:05.972+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Lose hope.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's what I do the best. After reading Maryln's blog, I kinda feel that I subconciously influenced others on some demoralising aspects of life because my thoughts unintentionally convinced them. I was shocked, when I saw what she posted on her blog. Maryln used to believe strongly in forever, but because of me her faith waivered. And it's only because I dont believe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Titanic, Romeo and Juliet, and even the Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai, they are greatest love stories of all. Why? Because one of them died while the couples are still passionate. If they didnt die, if the stories of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White didnt stop at 'They lived happily ever after', what would have happened next? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry. The probablity of them falling in love when they first is only 1/2, and for them to get together it's another half, making it only 1/4. And further divided, the probability that they'll become so passionate will only be 1/8. To die for each other, it becomes 1/16. Given time it forms an expotential function, so I'm not suprised that if the couples didnt die or the stories didnt end, the probability of their tales becoming great stories gets to like, 1/(16)^2, maybe 3, 4 or 5. &lt;b&gt;Just my guess.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAYYYYY. I'm just back from SPARC/SPSC Camp'08!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is unforgettable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that is all I'm gna say about the camp because I do not like to blog paragraphs and paragraphs of my own memory. :&gt; I'm glad to know more of the SPARC members, seniors, and make friends with hyper comperes members. I didnt think I was really myself the whole camp because I was so mentally disturbed by so many external events that were making me unhappy, and I dont like this physical state of mine. :&lt; But overall I did enjoy the camp!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh my there are quite a few previously NCC members in SPARC. The president, vice-president of SPARC were from NCC, and even my GL is a CLT. And, I didnt know Cedar NCC was that famous. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday the 13th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES I GET DISTURBED WHEN PEOPLE HAVE THIS FRIDAY-THE-13TH IS BAD KINDA FEELING. &lt;br /&gt;I'm like bornnnnnn on friday the 13th.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But. Anyways, everyone have a nice day yo. :&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1639359608644247979?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1639359608644247979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1639359608644247979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1639359608644247979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1639359608644247979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/lose-hope.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1997543577383037392</id><published>2008-06-08T01:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:22.195+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEq_SJT4RAI/AAAAAAAAAG4/pQ3A9R39ZAk/s1600-h/IMG0182Aj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209186237465248770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEq_SJT4RAI/AAAAAAAAAG4/pQ3A9R39ZAk/s320/IMG0182Aj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;My baby says BOO! :}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alot of things had happened and itchy-finger me found out even more things that perhaps, I shouldn't have. I didnt know how to react, I never will properly so I chose the easiest way. But it wasn't the best way. I dont know if where we stand now is the best, no one can tell me what should have been the best choice, but I know what I've decided is what that will satisfy my heart, assuming with everything that I know about myself. It is not going to be easy from now on, but at least I can try. It's just an undying habit. Even if it may hurt and I've been burnt, I'll hunt and hunt and hunt for things you keep from me. &gt;:{ No, that doesn't mean you try harder to keep it from me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"There are two kinds of people, I will &lt;s&gt;always&lt;/s&gt; win you &lt;i&gt;frequently&lt;/i&gt;." :} &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, updated timetable for anyone who tries to find me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9th June - Scholars Award Ceremony rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;10th June - Scholars Award Ceremony / SPARC Camp&lt;br /&gt;11th June - Water Familiarisation thingy. / SPARC Camp&lt;br /&gt;12th June - SPOT Workshop / SPARC Camp / CO Night&lt;br /&gt;13th June - SPOT Workshop&lt;br /&gt;14th June - SPARC training&lt;br /&gt;15th June - Move/Pack things day (hopefully rest day)&lt;br /&gt;16-19th June - Scholar's Perak Camp&lt;br /&gt;20th June - Rejuvenating day&lt;br /&gt;21st June - CIP Briefing (RAWR.)&lt;br /&gt;22nd June - Last day of term break&lt;br /&gt;23rd-25th June - CIP @ World Summit event&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GROUPMATES, I'M REALLY SORRY. Project days have to be squeezed in between, that I dont even know if I have anytime to! I'm really sorry if I'm not giving my fair share of effort, I WILL! There is just too little time and stupidly I'm sick during the first week. I'm really sorry I may be alittle hard to contact and everything. :{&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Baby, I'm sorry. It's just these two weeks I'm so hectic. I promise while I'm not at camps I'll be there for you during your admin time. I'll try to still give you the same kind of time and attention as before. It's just this period (I DONT KNOW WHY) I got so packed. Please bear with me. I love you, muackz.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M SO GLADx100 THAT MY AUNTY IS BACK! :}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is so like what my baby will say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEq_Sjsd-6I/AAAAAAAAAHA/WvYdY1Du9Nw/s1600-h/ihjuih.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209186244547705762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEq_Sjsd-6I/AAAAAAAAAHA/WvYdY1Du9Nw/s320/ihjuih.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I love you, even if, well, whatever happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1997543577383037392?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1997543577383037392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1997543577383037392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1997543577383037392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1997543577383037392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-baby-says-boo-no-that-doesnt-mean.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEq_SJT4RAI/AAAAAAAAAG4/pQ3A9R39ZAk/s72-c/IMG0182Aj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1429636140214586647</id><published>2008-06-05T18:04:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T18:28:24.389+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;The place gets dark pretty early.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had SPARC briefing yesterday. I almost didnt want to go but I didnt want to miss it either. My throat was still giving me the same stubborn itchiness but thankfully my head's abit clearer. So I pulled myself out of the comfortable blankets and dragged myself out. I think by the time I met Julien I felt so much more alive already. Maybe it was the lack of fresh air. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priscilla and Selene are in SPARC too! Small world. I see DPA-ians everywhere :} And I saw quite a few familiar faces. Sab, Huangying were there ((: and Firman also. We all met during interviews! Unfortunately J couldnt join us.. but it's alright. Sage has a cool name, Sage! Haha. And there's a Kira. I saw the list and her full name is Kira Wu Min. o.O So wow right? Sth like what Maryln will say. Haha. After the briefing and games some of us stayed for lunch at FC 3. Then Julien realised that alot of us were from uniform groups except her, Jasmine and Zhao, but Zhao's from symphonic band... with uniforms. Lol. Sab and Firman were from NCC and Firman once told me girls unit arent strong. &gt;:{ But it's okay. Cedar's BGU YOOO :} I think Sage's from NPCC. Anyway Hafiz asked how we made that low voice and asking if I could demo. =/ Thank God for cough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the seniors like to shout some random commands like, knock it down or on your feets up or what, so long since I've last heard them. :{ And I wonder why I hear it at SPARC o.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. After lunch I went to bishan for some stuffs then went home. I couldnt open the freaking door man, I nearly just tore away my nails. Then I realised I never opened that door myself before! o.O My cousin has been opening it for me. Well I called my cousin for help cause she's just downstairs at Macs. But I managed to break it open myself before she arrived. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slept for a tiny while, then my cousin, her friend and I went to tpy to get some stuffs. I've so many things I need to get ready for camp! But I need my aunty to come back and sign my forms and open the door to that Srgn place so I can get my shirts and stuffs. }: I hope there's time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And love, I've been waiting the whole afternoon. :{&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1429636140214586647?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1429636140214586647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1429636140214586647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1429636140214586647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1429636140214586647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/place-gets-dark-pretty-early.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6795422711529700298</id><published>2008-06-04T00:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T01:15:01.819+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;But then I fucking dont wna feel so tied down,&lt;br /&gt;even if I have no right to saw off these locks.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate your expectations of me if you have any, I will only give you disappointments and then where does the blame go. I hate people pushing me to study because if I want to, I will without anyone inviting me to. I hate striving to score well because if luck, knowledge and miracles permit I will without having to hope. I hate encouragements because if I should feel motivated, it only work if I give it to myself. And if I dont, there's a reason why I dont. I never liked ambitious goals. I just want to take it as it comes and not hope for so much. That's how I ever wanted things to be in my life. Right now, after you left, I have somehow been twirled into a whirlwind that swept away all I was happy with. There is nothing I can do to withdraw myself from everything. It's &lt;i&gt;compulsory&lt;/i&gt;, you see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's too extreme then I change every hate to dislike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rawr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet somethings that I wanted and didnt get, subconciously I dont give up forever. Because after so long it still makes me feel so uncomfortable. Even if my current status dont allow me to advance, I think of a &lt;i&gt;one day&lt;/i&gt;. I still do not like to give any chances to snatchers. Like that big shoe-shaped bag. Although a year has passed I swear I will custom-make one someday. :}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I still want to pack you up into a box and carry you home with me. Although you said it's unnecessary because you'll go with me, but I just want to do that still in case you changed your mind someday. I just want you to be near.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby was saying how he dont wish to fight if Singapore ever goes into war. He rather go home for his loved ones. Then I was thinking, is there an &lt;i&gt;obligation&lt;/i&gt; to fight? Perhaps under which act or law or what.. maybe all currently enlisted NS men are liable to be present on the warground, I dont know. Will your own nation point a gun at you and say, fight for Singapore or you lose everything? Just wondering, if that day ever comes, will choices exist? Nevermind. If the answer only comes when that day comes I rather not know the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rawr, I just realised my phone cant play wma files. My favourite songs are in wma. }: If I wait for baby to help me dl the converter I need to wait for two days! Nande!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wna eat some fruits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want to get pink fbt shorts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin and I are sick. }: My throat feels damn dry and conjested in the morning I can hardly speak. And then it gets so itchy without any phlegm when I cough I throw  my brain on a pirate ship or somewhat like the teacup thingy. I dont like the whole lethargic feeling which made me slp for like, 16hours? I wouldnt have got up if baby hadnt called. It's okay, a little illness is a blessing in disguise. At least I got some rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JC students take one set of A level paper at the end of 2years.&lt;br /&gt;Poly students take sets of 1/6 of a diploma every half year for three years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the difference in stress level?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6795422711529700298?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6795422711529700298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6795422711529700298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6795422711529700298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6795422711529700298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/but-then-i-fucking-dont-wna-feel-so.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-922275483993301622</id><published>2008-06-01T15:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:23.168+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJR_v7KWqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/uBsVqP_lj78/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206814274831932066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJR_v7KWqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/uBsVqP_lj78/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;* * * * *&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relatively long ago pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this girl on the train, she was carrying this doll and sitting him on her lap,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJS2_7KWsI/AAAAAAAAAGo/rhbAHeKWSIs/s1600-h/IMG0032A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206815224019704514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJS2_7KWsI/AAAAAAAAAGo/rhbAHeKWSIs/s320/IMG0032A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then when she went out of the train she adjusted him and carried him on the arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJS2_7KWtI/AAAAAAAAAGw/N1b7cEl7uXM/s1600-h/IMG0033A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206815224019704530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJS2_7KWtI/AAAAAAAAAGw/N1b7cEl7uXM/s320/IMG0033A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she made him feel so real. It feels freaky to see this kinda people but, I dont know it's their choice. It's my first time seeing such a, doll enthusiast? haha. I just know that alot of people were glancing at her and I wont like that if I were her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, in case the person in the above picture ever comes to my blog, I'm not criticising or anything. Serious, she's cool. Chill chill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And anyway, com lag gives you yahoo with friendster's smile! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJR__7KWrI/AAAAAAAAAGg/4CZcZ7fxitQ/s1600-h/Untitled-1+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206814279126899378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJR__7KWrI/AAAAAAAAAGg/4CZcZ7fxitQ/s320/Untitled-1+copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright I have nothing else to blog about because someone behind me is starting to complain. SO GOT TO GO! (Sorry, idiot baby.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-922275483993301622?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/922275483993301622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=922275483993301622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/922275483993301622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/922275483993301622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/06/relatively-long-ago-pictures.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SEJR_v7KWqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/uBsVqP_lj78/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-748073610239443900</id><published>2008-05-29T18:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:23.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SD6CrP7KWmI/AAAAAAAAAF4/JBbL0Y9WJKg/s1600-h/oreo+doughnut.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205741898807532130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SD6CrP7KWmI/AAAAAAAAAF4/JBbL0Y9WJKg/s320/oreo+doughnut.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GOT ANOT??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-748073610239443900?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/748073610239443900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=748073610239443900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/748073610239443900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/748073610239443900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/got-anot.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SD6CrP7KWmI/AAAAAAAAAF4/JBbL0Y9WJKg/s72-c/oreo+doughnut.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6476570824775194080</id><published>2008-05-28T22:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T23:56:46.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;You see the reason I'm rather discouraged,&lt;br /&gt;is that I have no one to grow up for anymore.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;YAY I JUST RECEIVED A CALL THAT I GOT IN SPARC!&lt;br /&gt;I'm an SP Ambassador! :}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. I'm really happy! At first when I indicated my interest for SPARC it wasn't really that strong a desire. But then after the first briefing I wanted to give it a try because, I dont know it gave me a very similar feeling I had when I wanted to join NCC. So I went and then I got kind of excited about it. And I'm happy now! :} I hope Julien, Huangying, J and the rest got in too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I think there's something alive moving inside the boxes that are beside me, but then I scared to look into it leh. It keeps making random short knocking sounds. =/)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this is how Sarahj and I converse on MSN. If we were talking about this topic and we wna include another totally different topic we kinda just include the () and then continue conversing with two topics. We're still using it now and I think only she gets my link. *sticks out pinkie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bumped into someone I never thought I would ever! Should have asked for my chicken rice man. RAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a very significant person's birthday. She was my first table partner and the first person I spoke to in Cedar and the first frigging person who dao-ed me. Her register number was just before mine. We ended up as ccamates and friends, and we were enemies too. :} We did our 'Today in History' project together and we chose her birthday because it was some merger relation issue. Think was the date that Tunku proposed merger, whatever. I remember we both had red and grey bags. I remember last year during graduation I didnt feel like crying at all. But platoonmates were all gathering at the courtyard and she was right opposite me in that circle, she pointed at me and said out every what-cum-what we were. Damn it, she spoiled my mood. Haha. Happy Birthday &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;, you know who you are. :}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have very special friends, and a especially cute boyfriend. He said if I missed him, I should come to my blog and tell it to the whole world. And then he can read. Baby why do you want to read it off world wide web when it's carved all over my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised, I have no time for Malaysia/family anymore.&lt;br /&gt;4th June - SPARC briefing&lt;br /&gt;8th June - Fundraising concert&lt;br /&gt;9th June - Scholars Award Ceremony rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;10th June - Scholars Award Ceremony (and shit, that ohshit video! =/)&lt;br /&gt;10th-12th June - SPARC Camp&lt;br /&gt;12th June - Workshop&lt;br /&gt;13th June - Workshop&lt;br /&gt;16-19th June - Scholar's Perak Camp&lt;br /&gt;7th 8th 14th 15th 21st 22nd - MCP day :}&lt;br /&gt;And inbetween? TUTORIAL DAYS! I think we have quite a few event site visits to do. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I almost forgot. I've got a 6months job at Estates department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could just leave for Malaysia and throw everything aside, but what will I be giving up? And if I give every of these up, will what I choose bear an equivilent value?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln said that I'm a philosopher, but I dont think I am. I just like to make more of those lines in my head and observe trends. I told her that something she didn't forget, just that she never remembered. Actually I have a next line for that; things that were forgotten, will never be remembered that they were forgotten. It's all in the heart to do things, not always the mind. Actually I think she was one of the few who always gets hit by my analysis of things. She knows that too because we study each other's character as well, apart from our usual discussion of &lt;s&gt;significant&lt;/s&gt; others. Haha. Someone once told me that poly life is very independent-based, you go around everywhere by yourself. But Maryln and I kinda have all the same things to do and in the same group for all the project work so we are able to walk around together more often. Soon, she's also gna start doing her rotaract activities and I'll be involved with my own. We'll be taking different GEMS and idk, going into different groups. BUT I KNOW WE WILL STILL &lt;s&gt;BITCH&lt;/s&gt; &lt;i&gt;discuss about stuffs&lt;/i&gt; TOGETHER! Yay. (And Maryln, hopefully go jogging tgt pls)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always felt I lead a life fulfilling this saying; it's not the quantity of friends but the quality of them. People who were my friends, would have been or are really special. {:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised a coincidence. The only two contacts I have under H, they both have the same first four digit hp number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant sleep but I want to go to ECP and play tomorrow! Rahhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want to buy skinnies of seven colours and wear different ones everyday.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to have oreo doughnuts too cause it appeared in my dreams. It looked so yummy they should sell it somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a screw and wear thick eye make ups and shiny skimpy clothes.&lt;br /&gt;I want to get a tan and blonde my hair.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a skinny-to-the-bones freak.&lt;br /&gt;I want a rock from Mars.&lt;br /&gt;Nah, I'm joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I do want the skinnies and oreo doughnuts. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOPE! DONT, talk to me about term tests. Muackz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6476570824775194080?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6476570824775194080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6476570824775194080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6476570824775194080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6476570824775194080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-see-reason-im-rather-discouraged-is.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8482622072053915716</id><published>2008-05-20T15:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T15:30:21.578+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;It felt like nothing could break us apart,&lt;br /&gt;yet it felt like nothing would bring us together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending on the mood.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving for Malaysia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have alot of things to blog about but right now I feel like watching the television. When I come back to Singapore then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See everyone! {:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8482622072053915716?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8482622072053915716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8482622072053915716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8482622072053915716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8482622072053915716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/it-felt-like-nothing-could-break-us.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7494814537246786119</id><published>2008-05-16T10:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:23.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Maybe it was just some coincidences that reminded me of her,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCz139SgEhI/AAAAAAAAAFs/kdcPtL8X4mw/s1600-h/IMG0011A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCz139SgEhI/AAAAAAAAAFs/kdcPtL8X4mw/s320/IMG0011A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200802011399852562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7494814537246786119?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7494814537246786119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7494814537246786119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7494814537246786119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7494814537246786119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/maybe-it-was-just-some-coincidences.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCz139SgEhI/AAAAAAAAAFs/kdcPtL8X4mw/s72-c/IMG0011A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2116887150734458871</id><published>2008-05-15T14:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T16:42:53.831+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm blogging again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You dont expect others to do the same things to hurt you just because you do.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT lesson again and there's nothing much to do!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I shall liquify myself so I look slimmer and my face looks smaller.&lt;br /&gt;Smaller than baby's. Huhu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I REFUSE! to withdraw anymore money than what I need from my bank. It is going down already and I have to keep it alive! I think this happens when I only withdraw and never deposit. Nothing to deposit. I dont even get any money from my aunties like my sisters. T.T I should really find some work around so I'm financially balanced. Especially when I think about what will happen to me after three years. I cant depend on my aunty forever. I should be self-dependent. Save money! Maybe it's good the machine retains my card again. I cant even strike TOTO. At least if you have no money then your money cant fly. Sometimes I feel frigging insecure about my stuffs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2116887150734458871?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2116887150734458871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2116887150734458871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2116887150734458871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2116887150734458871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-blogging-again-you-dont-expect.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3462864813137287391</id><published>2008-05-14T09:59:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:24.304+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why do you still bother to smile?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole faking is disgusting me. I think it applies to everyone and it goes in a cycle. But I dont have the need to backstab anyone like how any others did to me. I dont wish to be involved in your childish games. I owe you nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here's cutecutecute love! &lt;33&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpIbdSgEcI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8guNA1ACKT8/s1600-h/051308_145615.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200048356308554178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpIbdSgEcI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8guNA1ACKT8/s320/051308_145615.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somethings have happened and I regret my reaction almost immediately. Why should I doubt all that you've done for me? I should feel very blessed with someone for me to complain to at night, or bite when I'm not feeling happy, or poke when I feel like playing. Although you dont give the best advice but you were always there for me. I wont reject you again. Because we can never be friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpMXdSgEdI/AAAAAAAAAFM/31zBxS12pWQ/s1600-h/sdga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpMXdSgEdI/AAAAAAAAAFM/31zBxS12pWQ/s320/sdga.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200052685635588562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Thank you for the little things that you do. I know sometimes baby take the shortcuts and breaks some promises, but I know what you mean to do and what you dont mean to do. You give me more surprises than I ever had from anyone. They aren't small because we cant measure them by money. You compromised with me in anyway you could, even when we quarrel and it's my fault. I dont want to live without you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maryln says I'm random because I suddenly told her I think my boyfriend is very cute. Hahaha. Cute as in, not ke ai. I think ke ai is very superficial, like if you have big eyes and a symmetrical face then you can be ke ai. But cute is something you discover from the inside. I dont know how to explain the difference but it's just, a kind of individualistic cute. Something that just wants to make you pack the person into your arms and bring him where ever you go and he still stays so cute u feel like pinching his cheeks although he's not chubby. Like baby's cute! He's cute even when he be a mcp. And when he plays psp or ID4 until I get tired of it he's also cute. And when he acts cute. Hahaha. Cute cute. I love cute people. MUACKZ! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpOXtSgEfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/RiHELHGRWG0/s1600-h/051308_145648.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpOXtSgEfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/RiHELHGRWG0/s320/051308_145648.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200054888953811442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two kinds of blogger: visual bloggers and bloggers with only words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I like words. Nothing wrong with that. {:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3462864813137287391?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3462864813137287391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3462864813137287391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3462864813137287391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3462864813137287391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-do-you-still-bother-to-smile-this.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/SCpIbdSgEcI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8guNA1ACKT8/s72-c/051308_145615.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-351836916639965293</id><published>2008-05-12T13:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T13:11:27.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Byebye phone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-351836916639965293?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/351836916639965293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=351836916639965293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/351836916639965293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/351836916639965293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/byebye-phone.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2506385224940955619</id><published>2008-05-12T10:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T10:35:04.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;No wonder they say ignorance is bliss,&lt;br /&gt;but will I really be contented feigning ignorance?&lt;br /&gt;Now my excuse is gone,&lt;br /&gt;but I cant face up to it,&lt;br /&gt;all I have left to lean on is nothing but disintegrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long can this last?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only way you can be a real princess is when you have a real prince.&lt;br /&gt;What is perfection? Why am I defining it by what have you done?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that the past can overwhelm the present?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have alot of questions about myself, now that I have no more questions about you. The person standing in front of me will be someone I hardly understand, someone not even close to who I thought I knew. Have I really accepted all that along with every other thing? I dont really know how to live on with those scenes. It will just keep playing. I will just keep dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like stopping. Stopping myself from reaching into the fire. I burnt my own hands. But &lt;i&gt;I just want to know&lt;/i&gt;. I didnt want to hurt. I didnt want to lose anything important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm losing heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Should I allow you to save it?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2506385224940955619?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2506385224940955619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2506385224940955619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2506385224940955619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2506385224940955619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-wonder-they-say-ignorance-is-bliss.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7243118912675023380</id><published>2008-05-08T15:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T15:46:56.088+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;What are conclusions?&lt;br /&gt;Things you really know,&lt;br /&gt;or things you fabricated to know?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out abit of my life recently. I've always thought that fate is by choice, like if you were fated to meet someone when you go the right way, but you decided to take a detour so you took the left way, and that fate is missed because of your choice. But then again perhaps fate was that you will choose the left way. Somehow or another I know things are pre-destined. I feel scared digging into it, but I am not satisfied at the surface analysis. I dont know how dangerous or harmful this will be to myself, but it's a sort of crave to put the pieces together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes what that was revealed is different from what I will like to do. What if I didnt know anything and did what I liked? Or what if now that I knew and I still do what I want. Sometimes it conflicts. I know the picture is not the definite checkpoints. But if you dont follow your guide and wonder elsewhere, how will you find yourself on the right track again once you're lost? Somethings are very hard to say, or even, predict. Choices will twist everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I roughly told Maryln what it was about and she blogged it in such a emo way. Even if I had any flaws in my life I accept it. I dont really want to change anything. This is kind of, the way I am and the stuffs everyone else around me have handle with. We cant have a perfect life, I think what I have now is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think everyone else is so far away, so into their own lives already. I could hardly speak enough to count as a proper conversation with Sunmeng just now. Everytime we try to meet up as a clique its not working out. It's been forever since I've spoken to Rachel Tan they all. Nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessons are so slack. Half of the time I can blog, I can surf the net, I can even plug in an earpiece and listen to the music. Like now, We're supposed to be working on some photoshop things but... I spent half my lesson making a blogskin. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people are not worth being nice to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See everyone, hopefully (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7243118912675023380?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7243118912675023380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7243118912675023380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7243118912675023380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7243118912675023380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-are-conclusions-things-you-really.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8819902183760137387</id><published>2008-05-07T10:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T13:11:34.815+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;and you're not much better either.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, unfortunately I knew. But somethings I cant let you know I know. Although I'm dying to call you a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to change my name!&lt;br /&gt;Not soon but definitely sometime soon. I hope my name sounds like me. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am a person who survives on other people's mishaps. xP&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8819902183760137387?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8819902183760137387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8819902183760137387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8819902183760137387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8819902183760137387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/05/really-felt-like-calling-you-bitch-and.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1660335534834614602</id><published>2008-04-30T08:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T08:45:57.906+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;What can you do even if everything were to go wrong?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been slightly better this week. I have the time to slack around and watch television. Hahaha. Baby keep doubting that I watch tv because I used to not watch tv. But there isnt anything more appealing to do... okay nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought as long as I have my priority no matter what happens I will have the courage to choose my priority over everything else. I thought it would make things simplier cause I wont even have to decide anything. But recently I start to feel guilty for neglecting certain things because it implicates my responsibility. But so do I have some kind of responsibility to my priority. I dont know. Sometimes the only free times I have to do things I have to give them up. And some things will make it seem as though it wasnt worth it at all. Yet the next time I make the same deicisions and the cycle comes back. Maybe I'm really selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and affection are not valuable considerations in law. Loving someone for something he/she has given you is not counted as returning the favor. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this group of people, they have an inborn intuition to analyse people. Maybe it is right to say they make judgements quickly, but then they adapt to people's changes quickly as well. Whether did they study people's actions or read into their words, they are just able to pick up other's character traits. I dont know if I'm like that to some kind of extent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like making myself sick, but I dread the lethargic feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I havent seen alot of people for a long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1660335534834614602?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1660335534834614602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1660335534834614602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1660335534834614602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1660335534834614602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-can-you-do-even-if-everything-were.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4373758504244640080</id><published>2008-04-23T11:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T19:49:47.515+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Anything about death that is beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;it will be twisted to something warped and unreasonable.&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another week without blogging. I think I havent been so far from blogging for so long. But then I hardly feel that I have anytime for myself. Except at night, but I'll be too tired to do anything so I just watch television. There wont be televesion next time I moved into the hostel. After all these is over, it should be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. Exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;But it's okay. The days passed so fast there is no excuse to runaway actually. But I think I'm still easily tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes people are very insensitive. Things that you dont fear, you can't expect people to feel as calm as you. But they dont really care, sometimes they cant relate, and then things become childish to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like sleeping forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4373758504244640080?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4373758504244640080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4373758504244640080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4373758504244640080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4373758504244640080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/04/anything-about-death-that-is-beautiful.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8799337247566993071</id><published>2008-04-15T20:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T20:52:58.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Let go the wind,&lt;br /&gt;so dust will settle.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I havent blogged for VERY long ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are over and I will get along just fine. I have so many people helping me to &lt;i&gt;survive&lt;/i&gt; and I am really thankful already, really very very. Even the small things like Maryln walking around with me to settle admin stuffs and other people who cared, to kind adults providing me with so much financial support, I really feel very blessed. Somehow I feel someone/thing/whatever had it planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have their choices, and they need to live with what they've decided. There is no need to force anything, or to breathe down anyone's neck. It's not like they dont know what are the consequences, even the bad ones, but they chose to ignore it. This is the choice to live with the future it brings. No excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cluster 1 is like 2N and DEPM/FT/1A/03 is like 4S. Thank God for Maryln.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See everyone! (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8799337247566993071?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8799337247566993071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8799337247566993071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8799337247566993071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8799337247566993071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/04/let-go-wind-so-dust-will-settle.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2538124809175301042</id><published>2008-04-06T22:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T22:13:37.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>To all who care, my mother had passed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to say this out because I cant live with people thinking that she's still with me. I dont want anything from letting people know, it's just to let them know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2538124809175301042?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2538124809175301042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2538124809175301042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2538124809175301042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2538124809175301042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-all-who-care-my-mother-had-passed.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4120650038380725666</id><published>2008-04-02T23:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T00:13:12.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;But I didnt want it this way,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think even so, there are times when I need others to cheer me up for what I've seen from you. Even after everything, it could still all be lies. Like you said, lying to myself. I wish I could, though. If it's like I said, I would have totally believed in the lies. But I actually understood your words. Even you, might not understand what's going on with me right now. How did this happen? I feel betrayed by my own hands suddenly. Like it was all my own thinkings and doings that landed me here anyway. Wow, I have too much time in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finished watching Darker Than Black, I still didnt understand alot of things but. Oh well, it's finished and done with. I'm watching True Tears. Yes. I have alot of free time, that no one else have. My time, other than watching anime, I've spent sleeping. I dont feel myself most of the time, but. Doesnt bother anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time is here again. I hate this pain. And it's predictable. It's like knowing when you're going to die, and then going through the process so slowly, only go to through it again next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secrets are dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lied to an indian uncle who came to talk to me suddenly, when I was on the bus yesterday. He asked me my school and course, and I said SP, &lt;i&gt;Optometry&lt;/i&gt;. That was fine, until he asked me about his eye problem! And I gave some I-supposed-politically-correct answers. At least I asked him to go and see a doctor. I find it so weird, to share the truth with a stranger, like baring my identity just like that. I refuse to be so open, seriously. So I guess, I kinda lied about myself throughout. This happened to me a few times in my life, but I dont remember entertaining them this much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think I'll ever have the courage to approach and talk to anyone like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I dont think there's anyone in the world actually kind enough to listen to another's bad day, unless there is an intended motive. That's how everyone is, for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4120650038380725666?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4120650038380725666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4120650038380725666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4120650038380725666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4120650038380725666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/04/but-i-didnt-want-it-this-way-i-think.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2821477827988263824</id><published>2008-03-31T17:05:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:24.599+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Changed a blogskin, at least it looks peaceful to me finally. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have somethings I feel very happy about, but I cant bring myself to share. I guess the person who knows all of my secrets will know, and will understand. He's the one trying to grow it in my head anyway, and somehow I finally shut up and believed. I think it caused us alot of trouble, stressed him alot and upset my moods. I wasn't even sure when others asked, but I am now. Everything else is unpredictable and that fear will still be part of us, but you will make the difference.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think it's like everything progressed from somewhere ago. If you weren't with me then, you cant understand it now. And everyone has different mindsets, sometimes I only want to tell things to people whom I know will share my opinion or understand what I think. That's why I'm unconciously hiding things from everyone. I dont like debates over what I believe or feel happy about, although it is definitely inevitable. I really, dont give anyone any chance to be my close friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched Blood+ and Ouran High School Host Club? I think Blood+ is very cool! Somehow I like that kind of thing, fictional and fantasy, things created from no basis and the whole story is really just like a whole new story. If I told you what is it about now, you probably wont even understand because whatever it is about dont even exist in the world. Alot of fighting, alot of blood, but not draggy or monotonous. 50episodes, watch it if you have two full days to rot. And Ouran High School Host Club IS FUNNY SHIT! I started watching it in the middle of the night and it totally kept me awake. First episode was already very amusing. But the whole anime wasn't just funny, there are alot of touching parts as well. So, balanced the whole thing and made it not trash-like. 25episodes, 1day of rotting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I havent eaten my Subway yet. I have this habit of procrastination. But oh well, everything will turn out right in the end, so why bother. I'll have Subway in the end, some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R_CvimVxVzI/AAAAAAAAAEk/DMzFGz0uosk/s1600-h/033108_173106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R_CvimVxVzI/AAAAAAAAAEk/DMzFGz0uosk/s320/033108_173106.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183836180045715250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2821477827988263824?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2821477827988263824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2821477827988263824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2821477827988263824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2821477827988263824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/changed-blogskin-at-least-it-looks.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R_CvimVxVzI/AAAAAAAAAEk/DMzFGz0uosk/s72-c/033108_173106.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2412783761092699251</id><published>2008-03-28T19:52:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T20:07:02.647+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never knew, it could be so painful.. Because of it's beautiful tempt, that will cause so much anguish in me since that long. I tried hard to contain, but it eats into me even deeper. It's like the more I struggle with it, the tighter it graps on me. I didnt want to feel this empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well IM HUNGRYYYYYY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subwaysubwaysubway ): I've been have this neverending crave for lettuce and tomatoes between two bread and with some meat. Cheese will do good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I keep having sudden craving for food the past few days, so many types I had an impulse to write down everything and awe myself. But I didnt.. of course. I remember I wanted sashimi, chicken wings, sausages, corn, ministroni soup, lasagne, boiled eggs, baked rice, SUBWAYYY, rice and normal veggies, salted veggie soup, beef noodles, STEAKKK, laksa, omg and alot more. I could remember because everytime the craving was so f strong. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cluster 1 is probably having good food and good time at Joyce's house now, there's a bbq. I didnt feel too well so I didnt go. It's okay, bbq food werent in my crave syndrome.. so it's alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omg, now I want mashed potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to&lt;br /&gt;1) Eat Subway.&lt;br /&gt;2) Change my bedsheets, I've always wanted Spiderman bedsheets. But they dont have it anywhereeee. ):&lt;br /&gt;3) Eat Subway. Okay I said that already, it's reinforcement.&lt;br /&gt;4) SEE YOU! ):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so much more alive now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2412783761092699251?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2412783761092699251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2412783761092699251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2412783761092699251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2412783761092699251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-never-knew-it-could-be-to-painful.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-757162325890792872</id><published>2008-03-26T22:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:25.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dinner with Sunmeng and Tsuwie on Monday, I dont really know, am not really sure of, when will be the next time I am seeing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-pXMmVxVyI/AAAAAAAAAEc/wQkn46olcGA/s1600-h/DSC06300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182050195205084962" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-pXMmVxVyI/AAAAAAAAAEc/wQkn46olcGA/s320/DSC06300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Please dont forget anything about us,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And went out with Maryln and Gladys yesterday to watch Sky of Love, and seeing them for the next three years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-pXLWVxVxI/AAAAAAAAAEU/ZweQ_zrnQL0/s1600-h/032508_1914124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182050173730248466" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-pXLWVxVxI/AAAAAAAAAEU/ZweQ_zrnQL0/s320/032508_1914124.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry, I blinked.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a huge contrast, the sort of security I had on both days. I think nothing can beat being out with baby. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gladys, Maryln and I were so bored we decided to play this game: call someone from our contact and made her say 'I love you' to us. Then we realised we couldn't really find any friends to say that. Well Maryln did in the end, because she li yong Joyce's personality. Haha. But they're quite close ba. I think if it were the other way round, I'll find it restrictive to tell my friends I love them too. So, I'm not a very nice friend either am I? And I wished I could just have called baby. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think we were very noisy during Sky of Love. Not a superb movie.. but worth a $6 student price ticket. I think Yu is more handsome than Hiro. And Saki is prettier than Mika. But their love started too abruptly. And Mika didn't cry hard enough when he died. And she should have just died in the end! I dont believe she is not going to fall for another guy ever again lor. Okay whatever. Plot was cliche, so much so that cliche Maryln guessed it and me having so much faith in her clicheness (:D), believed her. And obviously we got it right! haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay nth else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cedar NCC Muster Parade today, congradulations to all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-757162325890792872?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/757162325890792872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=757162325890792872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/757162325890792872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/757162325890792872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/dinner-with-sunmeng-and-tsuwie-on.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-pXMmVxVyI/AAAAAAAAAEc/wQkn46olcGA/s72-c/DSC06300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-4768418115977033484</id><published>2008-03-25T02:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T02:42:51.615+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;If I were to write a story on our friendship,&lt;br /&gt;only you will understand my words.&lt;br /&gt;Everything will be stolen from your heart,&lt;br /&gt;just to make it a little bit closer to us.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still want you to stay. I am still pretending, that you're not leaving. That's why, I could still stay so calm. That's why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly miss, alot of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans shouldn't have the ability to miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will go to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-4768418115977033484?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/4768418115977033484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=4768418115977033484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4768418115977033484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/4768418115977033484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/if-i-were-to-write-story-on-our.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1880816137263303525</id><published>2008-03-21T01:23:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:26.799+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfImVxVtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/nthXAOoyJqw/s1600-h/baby5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877491509122770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfImVxVtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/nthXAOoyJqw/s320/baby5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Baby come lets take a picture!&lt;br /&gt;Baby: NANDE?! With that laptop?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfImVxVuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/n-DnrF5aoe8/s1600-h/baby10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877491509122786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfImVxVuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/n-DnrF5aoe8/s320/baby10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: YOU SAY MY LAPTOP! I BITE YOU!&lt;br /&gt;Baby: AHHHH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfPGVxVvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Tq8QOk_XQCA/s1600-h/baby9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877603178272498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfPGVxVvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Tq8QOk_XQCA/s320/baby9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay can take now?&lt;br /&gt;Baby: I'm too cool to take pictures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfPWVxVwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/J1l0lgqblL8/s1600-h/baby8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877607473239810" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfPWVxVwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/J1l0lgqblL8/s320/baby8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: RAHHHHH TAKE THE PICTURE!&lt;br /&gt;Baby: #%$(^*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfCWVxVsI/AAAAAAAAADs/4TtvznGqxQI/s1600-h/baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877384134940354" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfCWVxVsI/AAAAAAAAADs/4TtvznGqxQI/s320/baby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby: You scare me, I squishzxs you!&lt;br /&gt;Me: &gt;o&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KetmVxVqI/AAAAAAAAADc/ocpgShpcRPM/s1600-h/baby6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877027652654754" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KetmVxVqI/AAAAAAAAADc/ocpgShpcRPM/s320/baby6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, abit decent picture before..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-Ke92VxVrI/AAAAAAAAADk/wCkV1qkLV5E/s1600-h/baby4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179877306825529010" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-Ke92VxVrI/AAAAAAAAADk/wCkV1qkLV5E/s320/baby4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby goes back to PSP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;END!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1880816137263303525?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1880816137263303525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1880816137263303525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1880816137263303525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1880816137263303525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/me-baby-come-lets-take-picture-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KfImVxVtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/nthXAOoyJqw/s72-c/baby5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-1314799150011484625</id><published>2008-03-20T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:28.098+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Those places are different for us;&lt;br /&gt;the usual seats at the foodcourts,&lt;br /&gt;the corridors, the staircases.&lt;br /&gt;We walked through it with a group of people&lt;br /&gt;we might never walk for the same purpose again.&lt;br /&gt;It will feel a little empty the next time.&lt;br /&gt;We may sometimes stop abit and think,&lt;br /&gt;of the same things we will miss.&lt;br /&gt;We will have new people around us,&lt;br /&gt;we can be happier.&lt;br /&gt;It isnt coming to an end,&lt;br /&gt;we are at the end.&lt;br /&gt;But once a DPA-ian, always a DPA-ian.&lt;br /&gt;Remember us.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the last day of our DPA-PPP programme. The last day of Cluster 1.&lt;br /&gt;(But hello Maryln and Gladys, THREE YEARS, SIGHZXS. LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a short, sweet two months. I think there's really something about us, we are honoured as DPA students. We do feel different, we anticipate the JAE people. Maryln is right, each one of us do have this different, unique thing that makes us DPA-ians. After all that we've went through, lectures/breaks/slacks/camps, I know that is true. There is just no other group of people who can make it happen like we did. I myself do feel the difference with DPA-ians and like, other people.. But nevermind. I think the most incredible thing was that the 7 of us managed to bond so quickly, and I think this friendship cant be replaced with new friends from the JAE intake. It's different. As much as I hate this to end, it has. The last goodbye was hard to say. But, how about we look forward to the next outing? (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KQ42VxViI/AAAAAAAAACc/HR_rqDbZt3I/s1600-h/DSC06023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179861827763394082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KQ42VxViI/AAAAAAAAACc/HR_rqDbZt3I/s320/DSC06023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is currently the only cluster picture I have, but it's so apt can! I looked carefully and I think everyone's expression is an immediate reflection to their character. Haha. Okay IGNORE mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Grace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR42VxVjI/AAAAAAAAACk/COxfyuOlpJ4/s1600-h/DSC06013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179862927275021874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR42VxVjI/AAAAAAAAACk/COxfyuOlpJ4/s320/DSC06013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really cant find these people anywhere else...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR5GVxVkI/AAAAAAAAACs/QFEzXGx3FPw/s1600-h/DSC00147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179862931569989186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR5GVxVkI/AAAAAAAAACs/QFEzXGx3FPw/s320/DSC00147.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MR. DPA! I DONT CAREEEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR5WVxVlI/AAAAAAAAAC0/lOiZcB9arNw/s1600-h/DSC00146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179862935864956498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR5WVxVlI/AAAAAAAAAC0/lOiZcB9arNw/s320/DSC00146.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President of Nicco Fan Club, Nicco, Vice-President of Nicco Fan Club. And Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR52VxVmI/AAAAAAAAAC8/l4yHEiavdoY/s1600-h/DSC00142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179862944454891106" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR52VxVmI/AAAAAAAAAC8/l4yHEiavdoY/s320/DSC00142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And and Xinwei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR52VxVnI/AAAAAAAAADE/JolB4YEbJCI/s1600-h/DSC00139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179862944454891122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KR52VxVnI/AAAAAAAAADE/JolB4YEbJCI/s320/DSC00139.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fa-hiao couple of the day! See, our unique people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KS7WVxVoI/AAAAAAAAADM/GOTNEJ_sBEg/s1600-h/DSC00148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179864069736322690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KS7WVxVoI/AAAAAAAAADM/GOTNEJ_sBEg/s320/DSC00148.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the pictures I have for now.. cause I've only received them from Maryln and Grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'When's the next time we'll see each other?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Soon.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dont feel lovesick all of you! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And baby, Happy Special-est Day. I will blog about your concept another time. Loves!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-1314799150011484625?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/1314799150011484625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=1314799150011484625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1314799150011484625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/1314799150011484625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/those-places-are-different-for-us-usual.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R-KQ42VxViI/AAAAAAAAACc/HR_rqDbZt3I/s72-c/DSC06023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-210466716304107332</id><published>2008-03-17T23:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T23:52:28.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Got tired of blogskin, will update again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-210466716304107332?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/210466716304107332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=210466716304107332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/210466716304107332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/210466716304107332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/got-tired-of-blogskin-will-update-again.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7090081769811504370</id><published>2008-03-15T00:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T00:37:42.758+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh my tian I just scanned through my previous blog posts and I realised I was tired every single time. Well, I am still tired now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept at 2plus last night, rushing for L2L, then woke up at 630 and thereafter, kept myself awake and not stoning (so as not to kill my braincells) during the whole four hours, and then trying to be active after school which I think only succeeded for a while, and then try not to show baby that I'm dead tired and still went to eat and watch movie with him. And then trying not to fall asleep during the movie, but subsequently got surprised by the goblins and quite woken up. Ten pei him go play arcade and try not to look tired in case he thinks I'm unhappy again, and then played three rounds of basketball all reaching Section 5 (with scores reaching 700 :o) by forcing myself although I'm seriously tired but he wants to play. And then waiting somemore. And then trying not to make the walk to the busstop so down. And then I finally cant take it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know but when I'm tired I'm so much more sensitive to the things that people around me do. Not necessary I get pissed off, but I take it even harder. Whatever, even the most important person dont understand, why should anyone else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are about to close.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I watched &lt;a href="http://spiderwick.com"&gt;Spiderwick&lt;/a&gt; just now. I liked it, but I like fantasy movies like Stardust more. Typical girlish but,like Spiderwick : what's with the goblins suddenly popping out like those zombies from I Am Legend? No difference. The only things I found sweet were when the fairies came out from around Lucy. Anyway it's a nice show. I never watched Narnia but I supposed it's around the same frequency. The Brownie should have been cuter. And the way the bad monster died? Lame with Capital L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I gna go.&lt;br /&gt;GOODNIGHT ALL!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7090081769811504370?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7090081769811504370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7090081769811504370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7090081769811504370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7090081769811504370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/oh-my-tian-i-just-scanned-through-my.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-8932539771698540239</id><published>2008-03-14T15:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T15:49:55.719+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>IM TIRED AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have alot of blog posts whining about my tiredness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay nvm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've sewn a dress! In one day!&lt;br /&gt;But my sister's first comment was,it was like a table cloth.&lt;br /&gt;Jenn: Oh then next time you can start your own clothes chain, and then you will be famous and you can write a book 'It All Started With A Table Cloth'(roughly luh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW ENCOURAGING RIGHT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wna post the picture of how it looks like, I had her model it, but well she says to hide her identity. Dont worry, no one but my whole class plus my lecturer knows its you :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to do Maths Reasoning, but we are tired again so the question paper is once again, left aside. And the Excel, after much staring and stoning, closed. Feels so great to do that can! Forget about it and worry about it next time. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I dont like people who say things they dont do.&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm not specifically refering to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;It's a general statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the weekends tomorrow and end of March holidays! I rmb my sister was just saying 'So fast Monday already'. And now so fast Friday already. Next week is the last week of DPA. So fast end already. I dont know, the only way is to move on I guess. Like, no matter how much you loved your old schools, you're in a new place now and it's unfair to your new friends if you just hang on to the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And update.&lt;br /&gt;Patricia is growing teeth, with an ulcer above a tooth. So it sucks even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss smelly toufu, I miss the nai you pai gu, I miss sashimi, I miss the strawberry ice-kacang. When you cant eat, the list piles up immediately. I want to recover faster can. And I hope my teeth isnt the what, wisdom tooth with the gum over it then need to pluck out kind. I have a feeling after I pluck it out, I will fall very sick and get very high fever. Idk why but just predict so. Plus 2wk MC, now not really the time. Nvm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nth to blog anymore but I feel like I die also wna continue typing. If not it'll be so boring. Okay I go play mindsweeper. Activate my braincells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See all of you people.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I miss a clique outing. &gt;:/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-8932539771698540239?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/8932539771698540239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=8932539771698540239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8932539771698540239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/8932539771698540239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-tired-again.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7593578337648677524</id><published>2008-03-12T12:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T12:32:13.239+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;But you're so disgusting, who will like you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think this is a home where I dont mind being myself anymore. Maybe I can still find some peace when I'm in my own room. Sometimes I want to hang on to all these and pray for a better change, but for one night of extreme surprises I think I hate it all even more. I have been trying not to resent my mother, but she is really f too much. It's not like I cant hear whatever you were telling them, and if I were really like what you said, do you think you're able to finish whatever fucking shit you were saying? I gave in, I controlled myself. But time and time again you made me, feel so suppressed I feel like exploding in your face. But I know what happens next, you start to try exerting your authority as a mother to me. But you dont fucking know, you havent been a mother for all these years, what makes you think I actually respect you enough to listen? You wna cheat your way through, do it to them. And you dont know what, this family is like this because you made it so. If you feel fucked up about it I'm sorry its your doings. There are things that I will remember, and there's nothing much about why I should love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have to hide myself alot when others tell me how great their parents are, or even when they complain how 'bad' their parents were. I dont think many people know, and I guess Sarahj got on with her life there's hardly a number I can call. Baby is different. He knows single everything about my life but he's always telling me I cant do anything so just dont think about it. When you hear that kinda thing, what else can you say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you were here, so I dont have anytime alone to go and think of so much things. I think life is unpredictable, maybe God wants me to face up to everything, and here, I tell God I hate it, because all normal humans do. What made Him think I'm stronger than the rest and I can handle all these?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate this home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please dont come talk to me about this post's contents. &lt;br /&gt;I dont need sympathy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7593578337648677524?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7593578337648677524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7593578337648677524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7593578337648677524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7593578337648677524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/but-youre-so-disgusting-who-will-like.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-5220472346706525023</id><published>2008-03-11T23:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T12:00:31.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Patricia is growing teeth again. If you were a reader of my blog since years ago maybe you would have seen a familiar post, I think I grew teeth before also and IT SUCKS. ): It hurts like shit and the gum is swollen, until I think my face is swollen also, so it looks fatter than ever. It hurts more than an ulcer. And when I just open my jaws a little it starts to sting. I cant take rice. I cant talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh for a random update, I did go to school last friday. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.. it will get better by thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if any of my teeth is a wisdom tooth I dont mind going to pluck it out, for a 2week MC! But if it's now, feels like its a wrong time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MIA ne me jiu, you hui lai le!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired to blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-5220472346706525023?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/5220472346706525023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=5220472346706525023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5220472346706525023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/5220472346706525023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/patricia-is-growing-teeth-again.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-7594206197959426539</id><published>2008-03-06T20:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T21:10:52.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>IM TIRED TODAY ALSO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. I never get through anyyyy week without thinking of ponning. I havent been to school for the complete week since the start of the programme. Oh, that's not surprising isit? But I shall do it this week. Tomorrow is the last day and I WILL GO TO SCHOOL! &gt;:/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway like usual I pulled myself out of bed today and took my good old 147. I took the back seat that faced the other side, as in, I face the rear of the bus. Then when I was approaching my stop, I didn't know at all. I looked right, I saw the 'School of Chemical blahblah' then I was like omg I reached already?! Then I grabbed everything and jumped down the bus. Better than last time, I woke up to find the bus just leaving Dover station and I had to walk one bus stop back. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY. The next stupidest thing was, lesson starts at 10 today, not 9. Yes. One hour later. All of us forgot can? No, Justin Jonathan and I didnt know so it wasnt our fault. But Peizhi Nicco and Maryln forgot. And Maryln called me on her way to tell me she felt stupid because she arranged for her group to meet 2omins earlier to do the project, which was.. 84o. But thank God I had everyone with me. Imagine if I were the only one who didnt know, I'll be so Iwnakicksomebody'sass kinda thing during the whole hour. Luckylucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PIDEA was slack. Presentation, then we made our own perfume. I like my group's one okay. So flowery and sweet, because it w/as meant for &lt;i&gt;transexuals&lt;/i&gt;. True what, there's no perfume on market that was meant for them. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I forgot to blog that I saw someone that totally freaked me out. She's this caucasian girl I see &lt;i&gt;everywhere&lt;/i&gt;. Last time (since two years ago) at PP macs, she used to blade around and sit with random school people. Then I remember I bumped into her super randomly at ECP, Kovan, town, and I dont know where else. Apparently I saw her again in the toilet at cine! And she watched the same show as me, because in the cinema I sorta saw her sillouhette and I met her again in the toilet. I told Maryln I think our paths crosses many times but we're not meant to be friends. Haha. I'll be expecting another random meeting with her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I can pretend I'm all alright,&lt;br /&gt;but I cant pretend I dont need more.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm being too rude by saying this but, I feel that campmates are becoming more of those, hi-bye friends. But those memories will stay, and we'll see where that brings us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-7594206197959426539?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/7594206197959426539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=7594206197959426539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7594206197959426539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/7594206197959426539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-tired-today-also-seriously.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-2556096395913063164</id><published>2008-03-05T23:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T00:08:44.862+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was so tired and in pain and reluctant but I went out today. I guess I managed to keep reminding myself to stay up although I was feeling like I could collapse at any time of the day. Especially when somebody scolded me without knowing the truth, I felt so annoyingly depressed. Seriously I didnt know I could do that. In the past I would have just let myself hit rock bottom, or just stay home and settle my moods and pain myself or something. But I know being down wouldnt be &lt;i&gt;only&lt;/i&gt; my problem. It affects people around me as well. And people cant really tell when I'm down or pissed off cause I suppose it's the same face, so it's bad if it's misunderstood anyway. I think the only time I can take to clear my mind and think is when I walk home. Makes me stop dreading the walk now, that it's beneficial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet the Spartans is such a C-R-A-P Capital C show. It was funny, but as it goes on I wondered why am I even watching it. I mean, it's entertaining but, I just sat through a meaningless, plotless, pointless show. At some point or two I didnt find anything funny at all. Somehow it's more of a mockery anyway. I wont let baby watch it. So many bikini babes. And so many seductive scenes. Heads tearing then put back, with nipple torn off then stapled, with head chopped off and plugged to socket transformer, crazy movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why couldnt I find anything to blame,&lt;br /&gt;when 4mins was all I didnt know I had,&lt;br /&gt;and more time is still being taken away.&lt;br /&gt;I wish it's never taking place.&lt;br /&gt;I'm something to you with nothing to say.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-2556096395913063164?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/2556096395913063164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=2556096395913063164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2556096395913063164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/2556096395913063164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-was-so-tired-and-in-pain-and.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-312661522847378774</id><published>2008-03-04T22:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T23:24:45.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I dont really have the energy to blog, I forced myself up this morning and held it there for the whole day. Maths reasoning, hear the maths, hear my snore. Then we went to Vivocity with Mdm Liang, frankly it was nothing much. We were talking amongst ourselves most of the time. And then we dismissed for Superdogs! The fries are nice and the hotdogs are of a too.. wrong size. Hahaha, well thanks to Maryln and I. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've been restraining myself for quite sometime. When I'm about to blow off my top, I will quickly hold it back. It happened twice already and I'm totally aware of it. I suppose these are just not the people I'm comfortable with being that way. When I feel abit frustrated I start raising my voice. It's like, different from being with baby and I will just get angry and keep it inside, with all the black face. I never will shout anything to him, I dont think I dare. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think when people are down, they have 1001 reasons why they are the worst on Earth. But when you're down you cant think much either, except ramble on and on until your brain was given enough time to produce more endorphins to brighten you up, then your head starts to get lighter and you feel less stressed. Things should get better. Because as much as there's no such thing as being happy forever, there's none as being sad forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's supposed to be sweet,&lt;br /&gt;but why did yours taste so bitter?&lt;br /&gt;I wished I could add some sugar&lt;br /&gt;if only that was easy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me all that thankful for how we were 9months ago. Baby you drown me with honey and choked me with sugar, that's how I know you feel because you like to think back and say, damn sweet. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-312661522847378774?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/312661522847378774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=312661522847378774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/312661522847378774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/312661522847378774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-dont-really-have-energy-to-blog-i.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-6010771528906488748</id><published>2008-03-03T21:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:51:28.382+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I have to thank God for you,&lt;br /&gt;that first we started sweeter than any candy.&lt;br /&gt;Because you are the greatest gift,&lt;br /&gt;the best thing on Earth.&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone &lt;br /&gt;you carried my sun on your shoulders,&lt;br /&gt;got me lost in the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;And I dont think you know,&lt;br /&gt;how I wna pack you in a box and label it Taken,&lt;br /&gt;steal all of your time,&lt;br /&gt;make you totally unavailable and completely mine.&lt;br /&gt;(So s-c-r-e-w NS)&lt;br /&gt;I'm here, waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;if it takes nights that never end,&lt;br /&gt;if it meant pretence.&lt;br /&gt;I know you know what I mean,&lt;br /&gt;because you see right through me.&lt;br /&gt;And no one knows my deepest secrets like you do.&lt;br /&gt;No one will hold me closer than you.&lt;br /&gt;If I had a thousand hearts&lt;br /&gt;I'd given them all to you.&lt;br /&gt;But I have only one, right in your hands.&lt;br /&gt;If you ever let it go,&lt;br /&gt;it'll only break and never, ever picked up again.&lt;br /&gt;I will tell the world how much how much I need you,&lt;br /&gt;place a bet with every soul I've got nth to lose.&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R8wOwFNQxXI/AAAAAAAAACU/wOBOG3H3zOM/s1600-h/030308_224124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R8wOwFNQxXI/AAAAAAAAACU/wOBOG3H3zOM/s320/030308_224124.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173526291136169330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;LAYRA&lt;/b&gt;! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From baby&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really only &lt;i&gt;commented&lt;/i&gt; PSP slim is lighter lo.. but thanks baby. LOVES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-6010771528906488748?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/6010771528906488748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=6010771528906488748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6010771528906488748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/6010771528906488748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-have-to-thank-god-for-you-that-first.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kvFrzfNc5YE/R8wOwFNQxXI/AAAAAAAAACU/wOBOG3H3zOM/s72-c/030308_224124.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811607086592535040.post-3797210219317633208</id><published>2008-03-01T11:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T12:06:08.645+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;North South East West&lt;br /&gt;Tell me tell me who's the best&lt;br /&gt;DELTA!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Delta'08, yo yo. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;DPA-PPP LTC Camp @ Batam, Turi beach resort&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rarely blog in full about camps but.. JUNGLE TREKKING ROCKS! After Ophir oh man I'm really feeling that I like to climb mountains. ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we were Group D and someone named us Delta, so I've got the extra liberty to carry on being affiliated to Delta for another year (or 3 days) with another awesome 10 people. I think our group rocks. Although we're not as loud as others, or as funny, but this spirit was somewhat like my group from Campteen. The silent perseverance. Everyone really gave it their best and that's what's most important(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had activities, generally were low ropes, jungle treking, paintball, presentation. Our lunch, dinner, breakfast was damn shiok. They catered beef everyday! With salads soups desserts. And breakfast was like those hotel's complimentary breakfast. Day 2 dinner was even better. It was outdoor, just before the presentation. They had lamb chop, mashed potatoes, bbq prawns, sambal fish, honey chicken wings, salad, soup, dessert, and so many many! Omg I love all the food. I really dont mind stayin there forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing is, to get from the rooms to the eating place, there are like, idk how many many flights of stairs and a steep steep slope, no two. The other one is after the road to our rooms. So man, we burnt all we ate. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jungle treking: FUN LAHHHH! (: I think everyone in the group did really well. I love all the steep climbing up things leh. It gets you excited doesnt it? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paintball: I SHOT PPL DOWN! Hahaa. It's fun la, but not the type of game I will volunteerily wna go for. Shootin people? Haha. But Delta also damn pro. First round, although they took the flag, but the 10 of us didnt get shot at all and we shot 6 ppl from the other team down. :D We were close to shooting down the VIP during the 2nd round, but that's okay. And we won the third round. I think we're damn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presentation: DELTA'08 IS LIKE DELTA'07! We do all the last minute planning and it came out good. Although we werent the best performance, we already won over our obstacles. At least ours was neat and well prepared(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there are alot to say. Like all the funny things that made me laugh like crazy, which I havent for a long time. From Batam to Singapore, with Maryln and Jonathan. The word game was damn hilarious. It made us laugh the whole 1hour plus and almost everyone in the ferry knows cause Maryln laugh the loudest loudest. Hahaha. E for ? (x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy that this camp took place. All of us got to know people whom we had misunderstandings with before, now we're all good friends. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I feel so restless because someone who was supposed to come back at 10, is now coming back at 12, and I was almost told to go home myself. So I'm gg back to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEE EVERYONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811607086592535040-3797210219317633208?l=thelast-x.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/feeds/3797210219317633208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811607086592535040&amp;postID=3797210219317633208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3797210219317633208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811607086592535040/posts/default/3797210219317633208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelast-x.blogspot.com/2008/03/north-south-east-west-tell-me-tell-me.html' title=''/><author><name>PATR/CIA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15814094920024607116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
