<?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-8733730</id><updated>2011-07-08T21:43:20.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the art of living - master it</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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>450</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-5837070311087380183</id><published>2010-06-30T09:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T09:46:29.368+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I HAVE MOVED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.natalienathalie.tumblr.com/"&gt;www.natalienathalie.tumblr.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5837070311087380183?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5837070311087380183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-have-moved-www.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5837070311087380183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5837070311087380183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-have-moved-www.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8744199209066114169</id><published>2010-04-17T09:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T09:56:44.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I should probably start blogging  again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8744199209066114169?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8744199209066114169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-should-probably-start-blogging-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8744199209066114169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8744199209066114169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-should-probably-start-blogging-again.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-4312966641750940443</id><published>2010-04-02T11:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T11:12:24.872+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want something, you just don't get it. You don't get something just because you want it. And I'm tired of wanting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-4312966641750940443?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/4312966641750940443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/04/sometimes-no-matter-how-hard-you-try-no.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4312966641750940443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4312966641750940443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/04/sometimes-no-matter-how-hard-you-try-no.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7056792316577014574</id><published>2010-03-07T19:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T20:07:44.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hi, I'm back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Firstly, because I miss having a placee to post random thoughts that don't fit in conversations. Secondly, because non-verbal words are the best way I express myself. Thirdly, sometimes I don't want a response. Just a place to put down thoughts (which I could just as easily do in a diary but what's the fun in that?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So, life has been... hectic. I'm getting rather worn out although the recess week which is ending really did help pick me up alittle. I feel alittle more ready to take on the rest of the semester which I'm sure will be more exhausting. People keep asking me what uni life is like and how it is and well, there's the perk of having a long break from may to august buttt, the semesters themselves are a whirlwind and it goes by before you even really see it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Still, I suppose I rather enjoy it. In a twisted way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7056792316577014574?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7056792316577014574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/03/hi-im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7056792316577014574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7056792316577014574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/03/hi-im-back.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1465537402765449477</id><published>2010-02-22T20:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T20:28:59.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi guys, I know I haven't really been blogging much and I'm sorry about that but I'm just here to say that I probably won't be anymore either. Life's just taking alot out of me now and really, who listens to what I say anyway. No one really cares about how you feel or what you have to say. They ask because they're polite. What they really intend, is for you to say that you're doing great, or just fine even. So they can get on with their lives. No one wants to hear about how your life is the pits right now. Or that you just failed a test, or maybe you haven't been eating or sleeping. No, no one cares about that. What they do care about, is that THEIR lives are the pits right now. Or they're doing great, just fine even. But no one cares about what you have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So goodbye world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1465537402765449477?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1465537402765449477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/02/hi-guys-i-know-i-havent-really-been.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1465537402765449477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1465537402765449477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/02/hi-guys-i-know-i-havent-really-been.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1810407855589161548</id><published>2010-02-21T22:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T22:41:44.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-USUDzycRvM&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-USUDzycRvM&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1810407855589161548?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1810407855589161548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1810407855589161548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1810407855589161548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2073279930016155383</id><published>2010-02-06T23:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T00:01:14.222+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPj0A_qkCS4&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPj0A_qkCS4&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so hard to love?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2073279930016155383?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2073279930016155383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/02/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2073279930016155383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2073279930016155383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/02/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2786048045881901462</id><published>2010-01-31T13:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T13:41:16.402+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes, all the time, I wish I were important enough&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2786048045881901462?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2786048045881901462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/sometimes-all-time-i-wish-i-were.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2786048045881901462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2786048045881901462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/sometimes-all-time-i-wish-i-were.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-4274420146391706354</id><published>2010-01-31T13:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T13:35:41.945+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Natalie Sun is waiting for a better day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The last few hours I've spent just hanging around the house, seemingly waiting for something to happen. It feel like something's missing but I know I made the right choice. I guess I've finally realised what a friend meant when he said that all girls deserve to feel happy and secure in a relationship. Anyway, I just thank God for patiently waiting for me to realise what I've been missing and for just being with me the whole time. I think it's time to get alittle bit of my life back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hello world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-4274420146391706354?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/4274420146391706354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/natalie-sun-is-waiting-for-better-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4274420146391706354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4274420146391706354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/natalie-sun-is-waiting-for-better-day.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7816609713410447413</id><published>2010-01-24T21:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T21:27:39.601+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi world, I'm really tired. Really, really tired. It seems likr right now, I'm experiencing an unbelievable amount of fatigue. I'm so very tired. Can you tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised that I've been trying to fight against something I cannot see, cannot hear, cannot touch. Only feel. I'm fighting so hard but I don't even know what it is or whether it really and truly exists. I think perhaps it's possible that I'm just fighting against me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7816609713410447413?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7816609713410447413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/hi-world-im-really-tired.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7816609713410447413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7816609713410447413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/hi-world-im-really-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-207462190398755096</id><published>2010-01-08T10:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T12:24:34.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been rereading the 'Diary of a teenage girl' series by Melody Carlson again the last couple of weeks and it's really got me thinking. I really recommend this series for many, if not all, Christian (or not) girls. Really. Carlson is brilliant in the series. The book is written in the form of a diary of a girl named Caitlin O'Conner and you get the see the inside turmoil she goes through as she journeys in her life. And she addresses really relevant issues like premarital sex, dating, death of a friend, your calling from God, mission trips, financial (in)dependency and well.. alot more. My favourite favourite book of the series has to be the final one, book 5, where she gets married, yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough of the book promotion. Anyway, like I was saying, it's really got me thinking. And I've realised really how incredibly lonely I've been for a long, long time. I really wish I had someone who understands me like no one else, someone who knows me like no other. Someone I can talk to but not say much and still be understood. I know I'm not one who's usually short of words but  (or maybe precisely because of that) I really like when people take the time to get to know me. Then words aren't really needed as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUTTT, I also realise it's probably because I don't set  much of an example myself so well, who am I to complain right? Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-207462190398755096?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/207462190398755096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/ive-been-rereading-diary-of-teenage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/207462190398755096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/207462190398755096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/ive-been-rereading-diary-of-teenage.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2677219373628446031</id><published>2010-01-04T19:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T19:55:44.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's been a relatively good holiday everybody! ((: I read a couple of books, started driving practical lessons and booked my final theory test. I say, good job! Hope all is well with you guys too! Cheers :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2677219373628446031?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2677219373628446031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-been-relatively-good-holiday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2677219373628446031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2677219373628446031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-been-relatively-good-holiday.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3354010678838530481</id><published>2009-12-22T12:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T12:09:06.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today marks the new beginning of a broken heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3354010678838530481?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3354010678838530481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/12/today-marks-new-beginning-of-broken.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3354010678838530481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3354010678838530481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/12/today-marks-new-beginning-of-broken.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-5730385085061875648</id><published>2009-11-30T13:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T13:47:09.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Less than 24hours before freedom! :D Hee hee, already I have a date with some of my closest friends hurrah! I really am looking forward to them. Also, I am very very extremely motivated right now to get my driving license so im going to start lessons next week! Please pray that I'll be able to get it quickly quickly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             There's alot that I really want to do after the exams so let me know yall who want to do it with me (: I'm getting very very sick of having to study for the examinations... I'm very very very very bored. But! On the plus side, it means I've saved alot (okay well, not really alot) on transport and food. Also, if you don't already know, the korea trip has been cancelled :/ Well, it's not cancelled, I just won't be going anymore. There'll be a next time for sure. I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             ANYWAY, the main, actually only, point, was: &lt;24hours to freedom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5730385085061875648?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5730385085061875648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/less-than-24hours-before-freedom-d-hee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5730385085061875648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5730385085061875648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/less-than-24hours-before-freedom-d-hee.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3575097342812754637</id><published>2009-11-17T17:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T17:44:59.361+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Remember when I said it was okay? I lied&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3575097342812754637?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3575097342812754637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/remember-when-i-said-it-was-okay-i-lied.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3575097342812754637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3575097342812754637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/remember-when-i-said-it-was-okay-i-lied.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-4578481940585508959</id><published>2009-11-17T17:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T17:42:48.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I wonder if you know how it feels to try so hard at life but fail anyway&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always said I was... nice. I used to think it was a compliment until I realised, nice was how people described you when they dont really know who you are, how you're like. It's a gloss-over term that lets them pretend they know you more than they really do, without being specific enough for you to call their bluff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well hello, you're nice too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-4578481940585508959?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/4578481940585508959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wonder-if-you-know-how-it-feels-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4578481940585508959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4578481940585508959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wonder-if-you-know-how-it-feels-to.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8867474492135200686</id><published>2009-11-15T15:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T15:44:31.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wonder if you too have had a moment of revelation that you wanted so badly to share with someone. And not just anyone either. You know exactly who it is who would get it. Not just know what you're talking about, or give an obliging nod but really really get it. &lt;em&gt;Hit-him-so-hard-he feels-like-whooooa-ah-ow someone-knows-how-I-feel&lt;/em&gt; kind of get it. But you can't. You can't share it with him/her because you just can't. They are not the ones you're supposed to share things with anymore, they're not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8867474492135200686?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8867474492135200686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wonder-if-you-too-have-had-moment-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8867474492135200686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8867474492135200686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wonder-if-you-too-have-had-moment-of.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1705093868495094572</id><published>2009-11-08T19:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T19:54:42.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We're so close to reaching that famous happy end, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and almost believing that this was not pretend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let's go on dreaming for we know we are&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;so close, so close yet still so far.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Jon Mclaughlin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1705093868495094572?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1705093868495094572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/were-so-close-to-reaching-that-famous.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1705093868495094572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1705093868495094572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/were-so-close-to-reaching-that-famous.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8296535936133834273</id><published>2009-11-01T20:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T20:35:04.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm starting to get tired of keeping up. Can you see me falling apart?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8296535936133834273?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8296535936133834273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-starting-to-get-tired-of-keeping-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8296535936133834273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8296535936133834273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-starting-to-get-tired-of-keeping-up.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-5960682606475760527</id><published>2009-10-27T20:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:57:41.150+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish you'll just leave me alone, stop breaking my heart and tearing me apart, breaking your promises and making me believe in things that don't exist&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5960682606475760527?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5960682606475760527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/sometimes-i-wish-youll-just-leave-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5960682606475760527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5960682606475760527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/sometimes-i-wish-youll-just-leave-me.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2815151034472202151</id><published>2009-10-21T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T22:14:09.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Today, I was looking at Halloween costumes on the Toys 'R Us website. Under the category of "Occupations", there was a bowling ball costume. I now know what I want to be when I grow up. MLIA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-mylifeisaverage.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;HAHAHAHAH, my favourite :D:D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2815151034472202151?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2815151034472202151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-i-was-looking-at-halloween.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2815151034472202151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2815151034472202151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-i-was-looking-at-halloween.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8931409906725983226</id><published>2009-10-20T19:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T19:17:02.434+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hello World! Hello Everybody! (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It's been quite a bumpy bumpy ride but everything's starting to fall into place ((: I really am very glad about that. And I'm very thankful for the people who've been with me, throughout this period, helping me along. Thank you guys. At this present moment, I'm also very thankful for the week-long morning prayer meetings last week for a fantastic breakthrough spiritually. It's been amazing :D I feel so spiritually recharged, I'm definitely feeling on fire! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ALSO, just in case you'll like to know, I'm also seriously considering going for the Korea trip with the church to experience their strong prayer atmosphere. Well, that's the main reason in any case. I'll be glad if you'll like to join me! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hope that this is a good enough update of my life recently. Cheers everybody! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8931409906725983226?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8931409906725983226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/hello-world-hello-everybody-its-been.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8931409906725983226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8931409906725983226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/hello-world-hello-everybody-its-been.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1148591379708288589</id><published>2009-10-11T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T23:11:01.498+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want to be human.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1148591379708288589?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1148591379708288589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-want-to-be-human.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1148591379708288589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1148591379708288589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-want-to-be-human.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7608957689323502568</id><published>2009-10-08T21:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T21:15:49.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want to change the world. Instead, I sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want to believe in more than you and me. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All that I know is I'm breathing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All I can do is keep breathing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7608957689323502568?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7608957689323502568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-want-to-change-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7608957689323502568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7608957689323502568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-want-to-change-world.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7335418431170484610</id><published>2009-10-07T11:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:56:40.825+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A love that never fails.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I think it's time to go back to the basics, to find my first love again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And I had a good dinner last night.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7335418431170484610?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7335418431170484610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-that-never-fails.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7335418431170484610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7335418431170484610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-that-never-fails.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1449778939181953236</id><published>2009-09-30T21:21:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T21:23:23.445+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I made a promise to myself on the 7th of August that I would never again believe a thing you said, never expect anything of you, never trust that you'll be here. But you said you would and like a fool I waited. And I'm still waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1449778939181953236?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1449778939181953236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-made-promise-to-myself-on-7th-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1449778939181953236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1449778939181953236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-made-promise-to-myself-on-7th-of.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-5407936315765301424</id><published>2009-09-30T09:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T09:04:50.067+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wish I'd never met you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5407936315765301424?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5407936315765301424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-wish-id-never-met-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5407936315765301424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5407936315765301424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-wish-id-never-met-you.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6335819261440772670</id><published>2009-09-29T10:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T10:19:13.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386707845893590018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SsFuPu9MDAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/EA0gs2jGtzE/s320/child_abuse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a onmousedown="return MMsi_T('&amp;amp;ID=images,192')" href="http://www.salvationarmy.ca/2007/06/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.salvationarmy.ca/2007/06/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will hurt and disappoint you, but I love you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will tear your heart out and trample on it, but I love you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will keep doing things I know you don't like, but I love you, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will keep making you do things I know you don't like, but I love you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will make a million promises that I cannot or will not keep, but I love you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't care, I don't care, I don't care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6335819261440772670?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6335819261440772670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6335819261440772670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6335819261440772670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SsFuPu9MDAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/EA0gs2jGtzE/s72-c/child_abuse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-7757496988901367530</id><published>2009-09-21T23:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T23:18:23.469+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I used to be disappointed once but not anymore. I just won't allow it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7757496988901367530?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7757496988901367530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-used-to-be-disappointed-once-but-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7757496988901367530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7757496988901367530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-used-to-be-disappointed-once-but-not.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6788307262312484198</id><published>2009-09-21T22:30:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T22:40:05.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383928438452218450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SreOY7YRalI/AAAAAAAAAJY/67mnacf63CY/s320/lone3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today, I learnt that no matter what people tell you and how you try to convince yourself, we're really just alone in everything we do.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been having diarrhoea for the last few days but I dont know why )): &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6788307262312484198?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6788307262312484198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/today-i-learnt-that-no-matter-what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6788307262312484198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6788307262312484198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/today-i-learnt-that-no-matter-what.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SreOY7YRalI/AAAAAAAAAJY/67mnacf63CY/s72-c/lone3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-7878553437016993154</id><published>2009-09-13T21:43:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T22:10:10.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380953634849195858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/Sqz80kYIh1I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/_JSPToHAjmU/s320/iprollyshouldnthavesaidthat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cocoalikesthis.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;www.cocoalikesthis.wordpress.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380952055188588226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/Sqz7YnrshsI/AAAAAAAAAJI/5fMGES-RP64/s320/00038-conv.PNG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spurcartoons.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;www.spurcartoons.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I've been feeling really tired of being alone all the time. Tired of all the solitude. I guess there's only so much of being alone a person can take. And I've maxed out my quota. The problem is, I've forgotten how to be around people, how to love, to respond, how to be human even. I realised that I constantly find myself in situations with awkward silences because I cannot remember what the appropriate response is to whatever my counterpart has just said. I always thought being human was like riding a bike. You can't forget how to do it, no matter how long you've been away. But then, I also never thought that you could forget how to be human.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7878553437016993154?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7878553437016993154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-been-feeling-really-tired-of-being.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7878553437016993154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7878553437016993154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-been-feeling-really-tired-of-being.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/Sqz80kYIh1I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/_JSPToHAjmU/s72-c/iprollyshouldnthavesaidthat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-6252330384319613765</id><published>2009-09-08T19:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T19:07:28.541+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The thing is, once you shut me out once, I never have anything to say to you again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6252330384319613765?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6252330384319613765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/thing-is-once-you-shut-me-out-once-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6252330384319613765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6252330384319613765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/09/thing-is-once-you-shut-me-out-once-i.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1016160665481568968</id><published>2009-08-16T19:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T19:53:43.941+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm talking to you, can you hear me?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SofqjP3Nj8I/AAAAAAAAAJA/4ubGa4VYKAY/s1600-h/3824386409_665bd43e77.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370518971937034178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SofqjP3Nj8I/AAAAAAAAAJA/4ubGa4VYKAY/s320/3824386409_665bd43e77.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much does it take to listen, &lt;em&gt;really listen &lt;/em&gt;to what someone is saying. I wonder how many times you've spoken to me, tried to make a connection and I wasn't really listening. How many times I've failed to see you. Or saw you but wasn't really looking. I wonder how many more times it'll happen before you notice, if you haven't already, and feel like you can or will no longer be treated like second best. Because really, you deserve more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1016160665481568968?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1016160665481568968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-talking-to-you-can-you-hear-me-how.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1016160665481568968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1016160665481568968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-talking-to-you-can-you-hear-me-how.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SofqjP3Nj8I/AAAAAAAAAJA/4ubGa4VYKAY/s72-c/3824386409_665bd43e77.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-5863623478681366251</id><published>2009-08-05T14:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T14:14:31.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I love no one but you, I have discovered, but you are far away and I am here alone. Then this is my life and maybe, however unlikely, I’ll find my way back there. Or maybe, one day, I’ll settle for second best. And on that same day, hell will freeze over, the sun will burn out and the stars will fall from the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-pleasefindthis.blogspot.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5863623478681366251?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5863623478681366251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-love-no-one-but-you-i-have-discovered.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5863623478681366251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5863623478681366251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-love-no-one-but-you-i-have-discovered.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-696096208325963754</id><published>2009-08-05T12:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T12:13:51.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SnkGtbdyUMI/AAAAAAAAAI4/uBhY9y9LNO4/s1600-h/bench.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SnkGtbdyUMI/AAAAAAAAAI4/uBhY9y9LNO4/s320/bench.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366327808525226178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't true when I said I wasn't thinking about anything. It's just that there's so much in my head I don't even know where to start. I really wish you could be here. Physically, emotionally, mentally. I'm tired of being empty. Tired of being alone all the time. Tired of having things to say but no one to say it to. Really, I'm just tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-696096208325963754?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/696096208325963754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-wasnt-true-when-i-said-i-wasnt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/696096208325963754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/696096208325963754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-wasnt-true-when-i-said-i-wasnt.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SnkGtbdyUMI/AAAAAAAAAI4/uBhY9y9LNO4/s72-c/bench.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-6741311580138052453</id><published>2009-08-04T22:29:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T22:30:54.644+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What can I say, I keep up a good pretense. But I have to say this, it gets harder and harder each day. Harder and harder to breathe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6741311580138052453?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6741311580138052453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-can-i-say-i-keep-up-good-pretense.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6741311580138052453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6741311580138052453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-can-i-say-i-keep-up-good-pretense.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3053436792293131505</id><published>2009-07-26T13:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T13:20:23.215+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;So if you love me but you don't need me, you don't love me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- pleasefindthis.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it's because I've forgotten how to be human. I've forgotten how to love and let love, live and let live. How do you get back the things you felt back then? How do you get back the person you were? They say the hardest part is going from who you are now to who you want to be in future. I say the hardest part is knowing that the person you wanted to be in the future is the person you were in the past, the person you lost on the journey to the rest of your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3053436792293131505?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3053436792293131505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-if-you-love-me-but-you-dont-need-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3053436792293131505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3053436792293131505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-if-you-love-me-but-you-dont-need-me.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2914648890787338250</id><published>2009-07-21T20:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T20:15:09.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>happy fourth to me, yay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2914648890787338250?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2914648890787338250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-fourth-to-me-yay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2914648890787338250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2914648890787338250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-fourth-to-me-yay.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8503182966837186091</id><published>2009-07-16T22:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T22:58:40.165+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;It's not enough to say that I miss you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, how much are we really responsible for the lives of those around us. How much are we in control of the decisions that they make, of the things they start to like and dislike. I remember the passage we were given during the written test at ntu and how it explained that in reality, we can affect friends of friends of  friends, up to a total of 5 different social circles. I thought about it, about how your being sad will make me sad and then it'll affect the other people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So does that make us responsible for the ups and downs that our friends and family feel? And if it does, should that mean we musn't come into contact with each other unless we're in a jolly, cheerful mood? It's difficult enough having to be in control of our own lives, much more to be in control of someone else's. I guess it's undeniable though, that we affect each other in our everyday lives. We're not meant to be lone islands anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do we define if what we're feeling has been caused purely bythe events in our lives or merely by the companny we keep. We all like to think that we're really in control of every aspect of our lives but at the same time, it's difficult to be unaffected by the things around us. In all honestly, if it were possible, I really would like to be able to be unaffected by the things that people say and do. Sadly, I havent yet been able to master that ability. Or possibly, it's not a sad thing because that's what make us human, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8503182966837186091?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8503182966837186091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-not-enough-to-say-that-i-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8503182966837186091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8503182966837186091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-not-enough-to-say-that-i-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6998177577867279537</id><published>2009-07-05T18:01:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T22:19:28.201+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SlNZGEgetwI/AAAAAAAAAIw/V_nkTilFkrA/s1600-h/peoplealwaysleave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355722342697711362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 273px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SlNZGEgetwI/AAAAAAAAAIw/V_nkTilFkrA/s320/peoplealwaysleave.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to wonder what it was about this image that captured me the way it first did. I havent quite figured out what it is thats so mesmerizing, beyond the fact that it's true. People always leave. They just... do. At one point or another, we all leave, me included. Maybe as humans we're just not wired to stay in one place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to learn to let go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since I've really gone out, met friends, packed my schedule the way I did in January. Yes, I have realised. The last couple of days especially, I've been keeping to myself, staying at home, running errands solo. I actually quite like it, being able to change my plans spontaneously depending on my mood. I think I've learnt in the last couple of months that solitude isnt really something to be afraid of, but rather embraced. But solitude doesnt equal loneliness. and really, its not being alone I have a problem with. It's being lonely that doesn't agree with me. Thing is, its easy to confuse being alone with being lonely sometimes and it makes you fall prematurely into depression because you think that you're lonely when you're just being alone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I think I've figured out what it is that I've really been feeling and how it came down to that. Now all thats left to do is fix it, make it all right again. And it isn't as easy as it sounds thats for sure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6998177577867279537?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6998177577867279537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-used-to-wonder-what-it-was-about-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6998177577867279537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6998177577867279537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-used-to-wonder-what-it-was-about-this.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SlNZGEgetwI/AAAAAAAAAIw/V_nkTilFkrA/s72-c/peoplealwaysleave.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-2503261501535529941</id><published>2009-07-02T12:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T12:46:55.007+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So! I've officially come to the end of my temp stint at Iworld and as much as it was an enriching experience HAHAH, I'm pretty much enjoying it. Marcus was right, once you stop, you'll wonder why you didnt do it  earlier. I feel like I have great plans for the last couple of weeks I have left before school starts and hopefully, I get round to them before I end up wasting away my time again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not too sure how I feel about having to go the NTU socio but the one thing that I'm really sure about is that God has His reasons for putting me there and I'm not gg to question them. I just feel like, if there's one thing that I'm trusting Him about, this is it. Hopefully, it turns out to be a great experience just like how st nicks and cj were. I'm crossing my fingers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2503261501535529941?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2503261501535529941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-ive-officially-come-to-end-of-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2503261501535529941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2503261501535529941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-ive-officially-come-to-end-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7998019618699307100</id><published>2009-06-18T10:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T10:58:55.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Why do we try to be strong? At the end of the day, what does strong get us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7998019618699307100?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7998019618699307100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-do-we-try-to-be-strong-at-end-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7998019618699307100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7998019618699307100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-do-we-try-to-be-strong-at-end-of.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1041188176111210677</id><published>2009-06-16T12:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T12:11:00.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Operations and surgery, tests and scans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I've come across some stuff just yesterday, on my holiday no less, that has left me pretty disappointed. I suppose in all honesty, a large part of it is what I've brought upon myself. But still, after that many years of friendship, that many years of being a part of each other's lives that she'll know me better than to assume, like everyone else that I've just 'disappeared' for reasons as insignificant as that.  It's sad that you're willing to subscribe to the same train of thought as everyone else whom I've known for just alittle while, who, really, are no more than just acquaintances. But well, like I said, largely my own fault. For not willing to let you in, even after all those years. For not being comfortable enough with you to let you know just what it is that's going on in my life without being afraid of judgement. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Sigh, I should really learn how to balance these things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1041188176111210677?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1041188176111210677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/06/operations-and-surgery-tests-and-scans.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1041188176111210677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1041188176111210677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/06/operations-and-surgery-tests-and-scans.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1138049830379841011</id><published>2009-06-05T16:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T17:05:44.839+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've lost alot of the hope, alot of the naivety that I had to become this thing that has withdrawn so much into her shell that she's left with almost nothing more than that. I've been angry alot with all whom I used to think were friends. The ones who only call when they need me unless they think something's wrong. Then comes the obligatory message that says hey how are you, let's meet for lunch? And after said lunch, they pat themselves on the back saying well done! you were there for her and I'll see [you] in a couple of months. For so long all I did was suck up the anger, disappointment, sadness and anxiety that I felt which piled up and now manifests itself in the form of low self-esteem and a need to shy away from the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1138049830379841011?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1138049830379841011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-lost-alot-of-hope-alot-of-naivety.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1138049830379841011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1138049830379841011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-lost-alot-of-hope-alot-of-naivety.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3503584492058626056</id><published>2009-05-31T18:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:24:58.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I fell down the stairs on friday and it hurt like &amp;amp;$*%$#@. But now I wish I'd fallen alittle bit harder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3503584492058626056?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3503584492058626056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-fell-down-stairs-on-friday-and-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3503584492058626056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3503584492058626056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-fell-down-stairs-on-friday-and-it.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7849400644099475207</id><published>2009-05-29T17:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T17:51:08.041+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Expectation is the breeding ground for disappointment which then culminates into something greater like dissatisfaction. And from there you begin a journey filled with unhappiness where you pretend that everything's okay and you fall into a seemingly endless rut you don't know how to get out of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7849400644099475207?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7849400644099475207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/expectation-is-breeding-ground-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7849400644099475207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7849400644099475207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/expectation-is-breeding-ground-for.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1847912207869445729</id><published>2009-05-28T11:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T11:48:18.669+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've realised the past couple of weeks have been a lot of reflection, thinking, and revelations. I've been crying a lot – in the office toilet, on my bed at night until I fall asleep, even on the bus. It's pathetic really. What I've gained the most I think is that I realised rejection isn't about having others say no to you. It's about having them not know you were asking a question at all. It's a scar that never really heals, it only cuts deeper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1847912207869445729?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1847912207869445729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/ive-realised-past-couple-of-weeks-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1847912207869445729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1847912207869445729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/ive-realised-past-couple-of-weeks-have.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7535171203115645096</id><published>2009-05-12T20:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T20:49:23.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm sick of the world and all its ways&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7535171203115645096?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7535171203115645096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-sick-of-world-and-all-its-ways.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7535171203115645096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7535171203115645096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-sick-of-world-and-all-its-ways.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-596335322432002837</id><published>2009-05-12T17:22:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T18:05:35.047+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was having a meeting with the company's designer today and he mentioned that I sigh alot. I suppose it's true although I do it subconsciously. I've been feeling like I need a break of sorts to get out of this rut I'm in. But really, I'm too young to be tired of life. Too young to be feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, too young to be burdened with responsibility of this significance. Honestly though, the ten/twelve hour work days have really left me drained and exhausted. Mentally more than physically. I have the soul of an 80-year-old. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am too tired to be typing in proper sentences hence the short, possibly incoherent ones instead by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I had lunch with Marcus, Shaun and Robyn on sunday at bishan and it was really good seeing them again. It's been so hard to schedule time together lately, even more so since the guys enlisted. Anyway Marcus has a much more cheerful disposition and he looks/feels/acts so much happier. Less of the weight of the world on his shoulders it seems. Surprisingly, it's army that cured the gloom. How ironic. Perhaps I should sign myself up for the intense weather conditions on the island of doom, far away from civilization and hardly contactable. Actually the hardly contactable part sounds really tempting. I would like very much to be on a remote island without constantly ringing phones that signal higher piles of work or highend laptops that connect me, so effortlessly to the rest of the world, allowing for greater requests to be made of me with a mere click of the mouse. No, what I would like is to lounge on a beach, listening to the waves crash unto shore, feeling the sand on my toes. Or perhaps hole up in my room (on my bed if I had one) by the window with a book while rain pitter patters down on the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I really need is to feel safe and warm, like a child again, enjoying the little moments of joy like having an ice cream cone on a sweltering day. Little things that make the day seem so much brighter like having a stranger smile at you when you're walking on the streets. Yes it's just the little little things that make so much of a difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-596335322432002837?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/596335322432002837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-was-having-meeting-with-companys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/596335322432002837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/596335322432002837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-was-having-meeting-with-companys.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2130421366153076126</id><published>2009-05-06T16:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T17:29:13.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Instructions for the army boyz that I stole from someone PLEASE READ ITTTT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) If you hear someone calling your name from behind don’t turn back if you absolutely have to, be sure to turn your ENTIRE body around keeping your head and shoulders in full frontal position. I don’t care if you have to do a silly looking pirouette ok, better than getting possessed:( I’m so worried about that you have no idea.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2) Do no pee/pour water/throw rubbish on the ground while you’re away from camp. Theres this story about this recruit who did that, and the angered spirit followed him back to his camp and made the entire bunk’s life a living hell. So if you’re not doing it for yourself do it for the awesome people you’re gonna meet while in the army!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3) If you smell the scent of frangipanis (imagine;sweet pungent and floral) get the hell away from the area IMMEDIATELY. Frangipanis usually signify the presence of a female malay ghost who is more often than not, extremely vicious.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4) If you smell the scent of frangipanis do NOT mention it, instead gather the people around you and hightail it out of there.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5) Knocks on your bunk door in the dead of the night should not, at any point of time, be answered. Unless this is followed almost immediately by impatient hollering (which would mean it’s your sergeant). If it’s just a light series of knocks followed by a tense, intense silence DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6) Do not shine your SAF issued torchlight into the tree canopy. You do not want to know if there’s something supernatural and scary staring down at you, in this case, ignorance is bliss.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7) If you feel a chill down your spine, it’s not in your mind. RUN.  As wussy as this may make you appear to be, it’s for your own safety. Explain it to your bunkmates later on and they’d be dully impressed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8) While bathing/ using the toilet do NOT look up. keep your head faced center forward at all times. My cousin was out at tekong doing a field camp, and they were all showering in the field camp toilet, and he stupidly looked up and saw a woman with long hair staring down at them. His commander like told him not to scream out or mention it to anyone but to gather all the men and leave the toilet TOGETHER. Do not run out screaming by yourself. If you’ve ever watched jurassic park you’d know why.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9) If you’re on patrol and hear whistling or grunting do NOT walk towards that area or investigate. RUN. If you ever hear any of the aforementioned noises, congratulations you’ve just been courted by a pontianak,stud. Like i said, RUN.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10) If you find yourself stuck in a position where running is out of the question (eg some operational duty thing) and you know that there’s something supernatural staring/ angry at you. APOLOGISE. say “I’m sorry, i’m just doing my job I didn’t mean to disturb you”. As schizophrenic as this sounds, the taxi uncle told me that apologising to spirits while in the army is a much practiced and ESSENTIAL survival strategy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11) The beret is the most useful thing you could ever have on you. Apparently it’d been blessed by the four main religions in singapore and protects against hauntings, possessions and ghostly disturbances. CLUTCH AT IT PLEASE!!!!!!!!! oh but dont try to do anything by yourself when it comes to possessions k, call your commanding officer (CO) he’d be more experienced and stuff.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12) Try not to be overly depressed or spiritually “gungho”. Spirits feed on that shit.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13) If you’re in JAGUAR company, the fourth floor toilet is haunted. please avoid!!!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put that all in bold because it really worries me so considering all the boys in the seven have gone off to be trained into men. Especially Shaun (the worried part not the gone off to be trained into men part, hahah). But no, seriously, I've really been worried. Since the day I had dinner with Jianhao, Yuanrong and his parents and the horror stories of tekong and army in general came rearing its ugly head :/// It all got me thoroughly spooked I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE BE CAREFUL ALL YALL ARMY KIDDOS-TURNED-MEN. Having to uphold a tough exterior is no reason to throw caution to the wind - Marcus, I really hope you're reading this and its sinking into that ever thick skull of yours that you really have to be careful. In this case, better safe than sorry REALLY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Thats all I have to say with regards to being in the army. Except that army sucks and it steals my friends away )): Yes so I still have one thing to say and that is that army sucks, which, to be honest, I can never say enough times to put across how upset I am with it stealing time away from my fwens and I. Especially time with the boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, I'm hoping to stop tuition asap because I think it's causing me to tear my hair out and although that doesnt sound like a problem I know, since I have so much hair whats a few missing strands right, but after every lesson I feel like I'd just gone through the 2nd World War. Gahhhh, it makes me very tired to say the least. And so I'm hoping to stop soon and just keep with the part-time job that requires me to work full-time hours. Yes, it makes me tired enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on to my final agenda of the day, I think I have a worm in my stomach, eating away all the food that is meant for ME, because I've been hungry 24/7 recently. Really! It makes me kind of sick being hungry all the time. Makes me feel like a cow too. PLUSSS ytd, some nice man on the bus gave up his seat for me, such a nice, sweet thing to do but totally convinced me that I put on a ton (literally!) of weight since I not only look like a cow now, I look like a HIPPOPOTAMUS zomg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Hippos are bigger than cows anyway right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2130421366153076126?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2130421366153076126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/instructions-for-army-boyz-that-i-stole.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2130421366153076126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2130421366153076126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/instructions-for-army-boyz-that-i-stole.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8777394415545162442</id><published>2009-05-05T12:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T10:22:33.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Because none of the local universities want to take me in and I am really freaking out so badly, I'm in complete despair. Really. I am very very sad :/// There's this extreme sense of impending doom I always get everyday when I come home from work/play and I go to the letterbox and peek in at it hoping against hope that a letter of acceptance came from well, any of the universities. I can't be picky now. But still, nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing! )):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting on the floor playing the guitar and all ready to leave the house to meet shaun when my mommy yelled at my brother to go and study because his exams are coming and he yelled back that he wanted to be me because all I do is play the guitar, watch tv and go out. Which threw me deeper and darker into the black hole that is self-pity and depression because I STILL HAVE NO SCHOOL TO GO TO even though I applied to all three unis like the typical kiasu singaporean thinking 'better safe than sorry' but unlike some people who only applied to one school, I still belong nowhere ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, through all the incoherent rambling and pyscho babble above, what I'm trying to say is just that I am very sad because none of the universities have accepted me. Just that, you know, despair tends to drive me toward insanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8777394415545162442?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8777394415545162442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/because-none-of-local-universities-want.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8777394415545162442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8777394415545162442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/because-none-of-local-universities-want.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1408266005829497485</id><published>2009-05-04T18:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T09:54:53.997+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/icOB7j5rWd"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/icOB7j5rWd" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px; background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt; float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt; padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;amp;ek=icOB7j5rWd" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;amp;ek=icOB7j5rWd" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;amp;ek=icOB7j5rWd" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;amp;ek=icOB7j5rWd" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/icOB7j5rWd/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/-2NlRS5/music/WefgJkwL/hsm-3-can-i-have-this-dancemp3/"&gt;HSM 3 - Can I Have This Dance.mp3 - &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure why it lists the artist as chris brown and the pussycat dolls but anyways, its the original version from the movie, sang by vanessa hudgens and zac efron. i very much &lt;3 this song right now (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1408266005829497485?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1408266005829497485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/hsm-3-can-i-have-this-dance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1408266005829497485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1408266005829497485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/hsm-3-can-i-have-this-dance.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7614355300458144365</id><published>2009-05-03T10:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T10:33:23.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;After all that's been said and done&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was really one hectic Labour Day but I wouldn't have traded it in for anything in the world. Finally, I got to meet up with the seven again and we had a sort of breakfast picnic by the side of the condo under shade from a tree although it was neither breakfast nor a picnic really. Then we moved to be by the pool and we basically just spent the day sitting by the pool or in my room talking/eating. It really felt good to be just chilling with them all again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, my brother celebrated his birthday on friday too, complete with screaming kids, toy guns and massive amounts of oily, fatty, kid-friendly food. So we had to babysit them too, especially when they were swimming, just to ensure that nobody died. There were some pretty naughty and rude kids but there was one little boy who was five and the cutest thing ever! With pretty good motor skills for his age too I might add. Kids can really be a pain in the butt and a joy to be around at the same time. I can never decide if I want to strangle them or just give them a great big hug for some of the things they do or say sometimes. Still, kids are awesome :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7614355300458144365?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7614355300458144365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/after-all-thats-been-said-and-done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7614355300458144365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7614355300458144365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/05/after-all-thats-been-said-and-done.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6367847083378017550</id><published>2009-04-30T22:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:43:14.794+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I GOT A PAIR OF S$195 HEELS FOR S$39.90, I'm a happy girl! :D And... they were aldo heels too! heh heh. Leave today was spent with cheet and marcus and I really must say, it was a day spent well. Plus shaun booked out today (: (: (: It made up partially for the crappy week I've had. Hopefully, the weekend will remedy it completely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6367847083378017550?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6367847083378017550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-got-pair-of-s195-heels-for-s39.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6367847083378017550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6367847083378017550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-got-pair-of-s195-heels-for-s39.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-770810199276604672</id><published>2009-04-29T11:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T14:05:53.767+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Because you're the only one who makes me feel like I don't have to be sorry for being me. The only one who listens when I talk.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a bad week&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-770810199276604672?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/770810199276604672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/because-youre-only-one-who-makes-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/770810199276604672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/770810199276604672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/because-youre-only-one-who-makes-me.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7758429495557424620</id><published>2009-04-24T14:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T16:30:42.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi everybody, am looking for someone to spend time with while my boyfriend is in camp (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Only good friends need apply. If you're not sure whether you qualify, you probably dont hahahah. But apply anyway if you want to spend time with me (: Based on first come first serve basis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7758429495557424620?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7758429495557424620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/hi-everybody-am-looking-for-someone-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7758429495557424620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7758429495557424620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/hi-everybody-am-looking-for-someone-to.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1475256174730213325</id><published>2009-04-21T11:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T11:32:44.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There seems to have been a rather paradigm shift in my priorities, my likes and dislikes, my character even perhaps. Depending on who you are, how close you are to me and how you knew me, you'll have a different take on it. Contrary to belief though, it isn't a deliberate, rebellious attempt to strike out at anyone. Oh and yes I do know what you all think. I see the pity in your eyes when you get caught looking at me. There's despair in your face as you try not to grimace over how fallen and wayward you think I've become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very saddening though, to know that you think I'm throwing my life away. Sad that after all the promises of unending support and friendship that'll withstand the test of time and trials, I find myself walking through the valleys and mountains alone while you stand at a distance with your disapproving glances wondering where I went wrong. And then you flit in and out of my life, coming and going as you please, according to your whims and fancies as I struggle to hold my balance, trying my best to keep that smile, that trust I'd placed in you before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last year has been a walk I've taken largely alone, with only the support and hand-holding of a handful. For most part, it was groping in the dark, trying to find a way along, taking fragile, uncertain steps in the only direction I could see. But much like with every other stumbling block that has been placed in my path, I take a deep breath, suck it up and tell myself to take it a day at a time. And along the way, I discovered that there's so much more than what you've allowed me to experience, so much more than what you've allowed me to see. So I guess now is the time for me to live life for myself, to be not just what you &lt;em&gt;allow &lt;/em&gt;me to be but who I want to be. Now is the time I get to dream and dream big, not be discouraged by the snide remarks and comments that you pass off as concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is&lt;strong&gt; my&lt;/strong&gt; time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1475256174730213325?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1475256174730213325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/there-seems-to-have-been-rather.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1475256174730213325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1475256174730213325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/there-seems-to-have-been-rather.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2168431785072026208</id><published>2009-04-16T09:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T09:45:55.664+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Say you're sorry &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That face of an angel &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Comes out just when you need it to &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As I paced back and forth all this time &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cause I honestly believed in you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Holding on &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The days drag on &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stupid girl, I should have known, I should have known &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lead her up the stairwell &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was a dreamer before you went and let me down &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now it's too late for you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And your white horse, to come around &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And there you are on your knees, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Begging for forgiveness, begging for me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Just like I always wanted but I'm so sorry&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2168431785072026208?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2168431785072026208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/say-youre-sorry-that-face-of-angel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2168431785072026208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2168431785072026208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/say-youre-sorry-that-face-of-angel.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8212301691824258841</id><published>2009-04-15T14:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T14:56:10.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SeWCHeY1m6I/AAAAAAAAAH4/BnhDUBYdrJ0/s1600-h/friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324805199363414946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SeWCHeY1m6I/AAAAAAAAAH4/BnhDUBYdrJ0/s320/friends.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I laugh, I love, I hope, I try, I hurt, I need, I fear, I cry. And I know you do the same things too, so we're not really different, me and you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colin Rave&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8212301691824258841?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8212301691824258841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-laugh-i-love-i-hope-i-try-i-hurt-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8212301691824258841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8212301691824258841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-laugh-i-love-i-hope-i-try-i-hurt-i.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SeWCHeY1m6I/AAAAAAAAAH4/BnhDUBYdrJ0/s72-c/friends.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-2384867788737790177</id><published>2009-04-13T17:23:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T14:36:02.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I realised, my blog has been neglected for awhile, largely because I normally update it at work and due to the mountains of things piling up for me, waiting to be done, I haven't quite had the time to type out an entry. Much less an inspired one. To be honest really, I haven't had any inspiration lately but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the seven went to send Marcus off today as he begins an exciting new phase of his life towards losing Timmy the Tummy and gaining Allan the Abs, Stanley the Shoulders, Bazooka the Biceps and the likes. His exact words by the way. His normal endearingly annoying disposition replaced by a strange inclination to laugh at anything/everything that wasn't even remotely funny. This wouldn't be quite so disturbing or worrying if the said laugh wasn't replaced, almost instantly, by an expression on his face that resembles a man walking towards certain death. Poor guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, the send-off crew will be left with Kelly and I, dwindled down from the five we started out with when we sent Shaun off the first time. It's pretty sad. No matter though, we had a good weekend with the sleepover and Robyn's baptism. That was a real eye-opener for me too. A completely different style of baptism which was really cool too I might add. I kinda wish that I had a baptism like that too! Hahah. Still, my baptism was pretty awesome too so I'm really quite contented with what I have, or had in this context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I haven't gotten a letter from any of the three universities so I'm pretty much freaking out alittle because I don't want to have no school to go to. Shaun asked me how I felt about starting uni soon but I didnt have an answer because I can't get past worrying about whether I even have a school to go to in the first place. Wells, the ball has left my court so I guess I'm left with only praying and trusting God that it's all gonna turn out good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2384867788737790177?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2384867788737790177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-realised-my-blog-has-been-neglected.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2384867788737790177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2384867788737790177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-realised-my-blog-has-been-neglected.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7003999526761337359</id><published>2009-04-06T18:17:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T13:51:35.541+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Send someone to love me&lt;br /&gt;I need to rest in arms&lt;br /&gt;Keep me safe from harm&lt;br /&gt;In pouring rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me endless summer&lt;br /&gt;Lord I fear the cold&lt;br /&gt;Feel I'm getting old&lt;br /&gt;Before my time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my soul heals the shame&lt;br /&gt;I will grow through this pain&lt;br /&gt;Lord I'm doing all I can&lt;br /&gt;To be a better man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7003999526761337359?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7003999526761337359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/send-someone-to-love-me-i-need-to-rest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7003999526761337359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7003999526761337359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/send-someone-to-love-me-i-need-to-rest.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3784659160945785046</id><published>2009-04-06T11:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T18:25:05.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i've been missing my best friend. oh yes, i've been missing you so.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've finally plucked up my courage enough to tell mr.boss and mr.biggerboss that I wanna quit and he's said that he'll make the necessary arrangements to let me leave as soon as is possible. Now that it's all confirmed, I've been feeling so much more relieved and I'm in a better mood too. Plus all the "HUH WHYYYYY, STAY LAH I INCREASE YOUR PAY" and the likes made me feel very loved. Heh heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also meeting marcus, and possibly anne, on thursday for some much needed hang out time :D:D:D And finally finally after so long, Shaun'll be booking out and I see the seven on friday. That is the highlight of my week and I really am looking forward to it. Very very much so! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3784659160945785046?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3784659160945785046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-been-missing-my-best-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3784659160945785046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3784659160945785046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-been-missing-my-best-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-5669924211380468469</id><published>2009-04-03T23:09:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T23:18:59.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Marcus is emo:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://electricliquorsky.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://electricliquorsky.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br&gt;I haven't seen the seven in awhile, it's very sad :// If you're reading this, I miss you guys very much, let's hang out soon please! Before marcus and feng lose their hair and retreat into that dark abyss that is EMO. Marcus is already slipping fast hahahah.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I feel like I haven't rested in a long long while and all that falling sick and not recovering is really starting to get on my nerves. I want to breathe properly please. And eat, and sing and you know, just breathe. My schedule's starting to fill up and it's getting pretty packed. I don't seem to have enough 24 hours to fit my to-do list in. I guess it's a good thing. Am just waiting for the day of collapse and strangely enough, or not, it's a very welcoming thought. Am just so so so tired. Mentally and physically. Possibly spiritually but I won't go into that now. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I think, I just need more time. And alittle bit more love, if you're reading this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5669924211380468469?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5669924211380468469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/marcus-is-emo-httpelectricliquorsky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5669924211380468469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5669924211380468469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/04/marcus-is-emo-httpelectricliquorsky.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3766036214687492294</id><published>2009-03-31T22:43:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T12:37:53.751+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>YAY OKAY I FOUND MY CERT, now I can blog properly (: i actually had a major rant post all typed out in my head until I discovered the missing cert which promptly resulted in a complete discard of everything that was in my mind at the moment ://&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What sparked the would-be rant post was one of the worst days I've had. A culmination of many little things adding up. That's always what gets me frustrated and angsty. Cause i keep it in till it all bubbles over and erupts in a spew of fiery red molten semi-liquid. Frustration and I don't go very well together, we're not really the best of friends. Hard as I try though, I haven't yet been able to shake off that feeling that I'm currently letting these precious months of my life just pass me by. I feel like I'm just wasting it, trying to do too many things at one time and falling short in almost every way. I think the hardest part is not being able to do anything about it. Or rather, &lt;em&gt;not knowing what to do about it&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall now embark on a series of minor life changes in an attempt to nudge my life along gently. Easy does it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3766036214687492294?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3766036214687492294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/yay-okay-i-found-my-cert-now-i-can-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3766036214687492294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3766036214687492294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/yay-okay-i-found-my-cert-now-i-can-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3690782072554894385</id><published>2009-03-30T20:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T23:13:25.475+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I AM IN ABSOLUTE PANIC MODE right now because I really have no idea where my O level cert is and I need it for an interview at SMU on wed ://// zomg as dramatic as it sounds, I'm very tempted to say this is the end of my life. Actually, it's probably true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh dear oh dear oh dear ))):&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3690782072554894385?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3690782072554894385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-in-absolute-panic-mode-right-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3690782072554894385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3690782072554894385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-in-absolute-panic-mode-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-5196338408187993982</id><published>2009-03-25T11:41:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:14:15.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt; If I ever find truth I'm gonna let you know&lt;br /&gt;If I ever find faith I'm gonna sit in every bit of its afterglow&lt;br /&gt;If I ever find a way to bring love here today&lt;br /&gt;You better bet your life that this is what I'll say&lt;br /&gt;Give it if you've got it&lt;br /&gt;Get it if you don't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand in the meantime&lt;br /&gt;And let's walk into the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;Everybody got something that they want to sing about, laugh about, cry about&lt;br /&gt;It's true&lt;br /&gt;For me it's you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5196338408187993982?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5196338408187993982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-i-ever-find-truth-im-gonna-let-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5196338408187993982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5196338408187993982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-i-ever-find-truth-im-gonna-let-you.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-224228017292355252</id><published>2009-03-24T11:33:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:13:23.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She's walking there alone,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one by her side&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She manages to fight the tears,&lt;br /&gt;but&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The pain inside&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can't hide&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the tears she's cried&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she wishes today&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was one year ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One year ago, I was struggling to find a balance between social life, academics and sleep. To get out there, have fun, still work my butt off to get at least decent grades and sleep enough to function.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year ago, being a little bit younger, I believed in a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year ago, with a little less friends, I had a little less to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now one year later, after seeing a little bit more, gaining a little bit more and experiencing a little bit more, I feel like the past one year has been completely worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-224228017292355252?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/224228017292355252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/shes-walking-there-alone-no-one-by-her.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/224228017292355252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/224228017292355252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/shes-walking-there-alone-no-one-by-her.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8914941305323539898</id><published>2009-03-20T23:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T00:07:15.257+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Because I need something that would prove that I'm still in control of my life. Something, to be honest, I've never really had. Because I need to have something that would prove that there's still hope for me in the world. Something, that will keep me alive amidst an atmosphere of suffocation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I need to believe that after everything that's happened in my life, I won't still be stagnated here in a place I don't want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I just need something to believe in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8914941305323539898?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8914941305323539898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/because-i-need-something-that-would.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8914941305323539898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8914941305323539898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/because-i-need-something-that-would.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6517168181368787195</id><published>2009-03-17T17:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T17:37:36.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i have eternity compressed into a moment (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6517168181368787195?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6517168181368787195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-eternity-compressed-into-moment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6517168181368787195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6517168181368787195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-eternity-compressed-into-moment.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2985570418575424953</id><published>2009-03-08T09:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T09:59:06.662+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SO, the results are out now and everyone's fretting about the courses they'll be taking/applying for. To be completely honest, it was rather disappointing, the results. Nonetheless, I still believe (and very strongly at that) that God's plan is greater than this and even if I may not know what He's doing in my life right now, He does. And thats all that matters really. I'm thankful for what He's given me during and after the A level period and really, I havent been shortchanged in any way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a congratulations to those who did do well/are really well pleased with their results. I'm really proud of the rest in the seven too because you guys did great and you're the form my blessings have come in. Right now we're heading into a whole new phase of our lives and I'm just glad I'm getting to share it with you all :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2985570418575424953?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2985570418575424953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-results-are-out-now-and-everyones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2985570418575424953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2985570418575424953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-results-are-out-now-and-everyones.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1854702851414487371</id><published>2009-03-05T17:37:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T18:27:12.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I wait upon You now, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With my arms released to You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where a little faith's enough to see mountains lift and move&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1854702851414487371?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1854702851414487371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-i-wait-upon-you-now-with-my-arms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1854702851414487371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1854702851414487371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-i-wait-upon-you-now-with-my-arms.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1852849671864435578</id><published>2009-02-27T11:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T18:03:25.792+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A tribute to the 2 and a half months of working with marcus:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nat: Yah because you always don't listen to what I say when I'm talking to you in the office!&lt;br /&gt;Marcus: What, I told you already I cannot multi-task! If I were reading on the train and this damn hot lady came up to me and stripped naked I swear I wouldn't even see it. I SWEAR&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus pushes his laptop screen backwards causing my bottle to fall over and then: OMG SHITTTT. oh chey I thought it was your tea. wahlao eh if it was your tea I would totally kill myself eh. (pause) I mean, not literally kill myself lah you know, that would be really stupid. I just meant that metaphorically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nat(after reading someone's blog where it mentions a certain person passed away): ehhhh, someone died! oh my goodness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus: who!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nat: don't know. It says marcus here but there's only one marcus I know that he knows too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus: He knows me also what. He could be talking about me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nat: err, NO&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus: WHY&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nat: are you dead?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus: oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus pinches his layer of fat while sitting in an mrt carriage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nat: wah thats damn disgusting can you stop!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus smirks, the train stops and we stand to alight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Marcus: and you know what's the best part, see, when I stand up, ALL GONE! ( whilst patting his stomach)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;(the most recent)&lt;br /&gt;marcus: I'm damn irritating right? No, seriously, I think I'm damn annoying ehh. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marcus Quotes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Whoaaa, EPICSTRY"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"You just had a whole conversation with yourself eh"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"What, want to fight ah"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"You're damn strange eh"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Yah I know, I'm a funny guy"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;And the most ultimate:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Whoa that tastes damn good leh. It's like... like shit man"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1852849671864435578?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1852849671864435578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/tribute-to-2-and-half-months-of-working.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1852849671864435578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1852849671864435578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/tribute-to-2-and-half-months-of-working.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8038012828573775063</id><published>2009-02-26T17:33:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T17:38:22.339+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://electricliquorsky.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://electricliquorsky.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br&gt;And for the record, we're alot more hilarious in real life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8038012828573775063?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8038012828573775063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-all-i-had-to-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8038012828573775063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8038012828573775063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-all-i-had-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-4168923777038722490</id><published>2009-02-25T11:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T11:40:23.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Firstly, thank you JianHao for helping (read: doing it all) with the template, yes I'll give you a GEMS card when I see you friday/saturday! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mood has lifted very considerably this week and I certainly feel I'm walking with a little more bounce in my step. Perhaps it's to do with the burdens that I no longer feel, or feel as much. I realised that sometimes I go through life worrying too much, carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I fret about EVERYTHING. The little, the big, the past, the present, the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I think I've learnt to let go, loosen the reigns alittle bit. I like certainty. Certainty gives me the illusion that I have control of what happens in my life. It helps me feel less vulnerable to change that could be very unwelcome. But then, I came across this quote the other day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;em&gt;At the end of the day, faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don’t really expect it. It’s like one day you realize that the fairy tale is slightly different than your dream. The castle, well it may not be a castle. And it’s not so important that it’s happily ever after – just that it’s happy right now. See, once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you. And once in a while, people may even take your breath away.&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Meredith Grey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lately, I've been having those moments alot more. When people or things surprise me. And then there are the times when they just simply take my breath away. And certainty I realised, makes it such that these moments seldom happen. The downside of being certain all the time -not having spontaneity. The thrill of surprises and split seconds that are simply too spectacular to describe doesnt exist in a world where you have control of just about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I like how it is now. I don't always have control of every little thing but I get to have the occasional moments of exuberance and exhilaration and life's little joys of whims and spontaneity. It's pretty good really&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-4168923777038722490?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/4168923777038722490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/firstly-thank-you-jianhao-for-helping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4168923777038722490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4168923777038722490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/firstly-thank-you-jianhao-for-helping.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3477000910446597981</id><published>2009-02-24T15:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T16:00:50.998+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306270383950710034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaOozOWOxRI/AAAAAAAAAHw/_0ug4Sl6VCQ/s320/lone1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are about a million things I would like to say to you but sometimes, sometimes the silence says it all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3477000910446597981?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3477000910446597981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/there-are-about-million-things-i-would.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3477000910446597981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3477000910446597981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/there-are-about-million-things-i-would.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaOozOWOxRI/AAAAAAAAAHw/_0ug4Sl6VCQ/s72-c/lone1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-5477394109661578439</id><published>2009-02-23T17:12:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T17:27:39.849+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJrFeCGG7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/kupi29-6Cxg/s1600-h/friends4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305921052701236146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 323px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJrFeCGG7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/kupi29-6Cxg/s320/friends4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJrFQkrH7I/AAAAAAAAAHg/y27Vhqrf6iA/s1600-h/friends8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305921049088171954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJrFQkrH7I/AAAAAAAAAHg/y27Vhqrf6iA/s320/friends8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq79hdHUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/V2c_mwZuPyw/s1600-h/friends7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305920889355574594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq79hdHUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/V2c_mwZuPyw/s320/friends7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq757ErxI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/lAiN-Oe9TBs/s1600-h/friends3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305920888389283602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq757ErxI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/lAiN-Oe9TBs/s320/friends3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305920882598088386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq7kWWDsI/AAAAAAAAAHI/SLEbxmyy5q8/s320/friends6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq7iIPGvI/AAAAAAAAAHA/qidVn867TEU/s1600-h/vivo-flowers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305920882002041586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq7iIPGvI/AAAAAAAAAHA/qidVn867TEU/s320/vivo-flowers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq7dUpGfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/jFFTT6jDGyA/s1600-h/friends5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305920880711899634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJq7dUpGfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/jFFTT6jDGyA/s320/friends5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-5477394109661578439?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/5477394109661578439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5477394109661578439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/5477394109661578439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SaJrFeCGG7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/kupi29-6Cxg/s72-c/friends4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-8382843250418313449</id><published>2009-02-23T10:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T16:25:33.378+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dinner last night with my mummy and brother turned out to be pretty eventful. It was a milestone for me but I'm really glad I told her all that I did. Plus, my mummy's actually quite cool so it's now a load off my shoulders. Praise God for awesomite parents! haha. And my brother made the whole thing less painful because he was being so cute and excited about it (: So I guess now I can be alittle less dodgy about it ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week's the start of the last week marcus is working ://// It's rather sad actually. All the annoyingly funny comments he makes in the course of the day, the finishing my sweets/anything else edible, and gross statements included :D The job's definitely not going to be the same without him! No one to accompany me to the bus stop after work anymore, no one to stare at me like I'm bananas because I'm "having entire conversation[s] with [myself]", no one to ruin potentially nice/sweet/touching moments by saying the stupidest things or giving the most retarded faces. So yeah... the job certainly wont be the same without him! heh heh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8382843250418313449?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8382843250418313449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/dinner-last-night-with-my-mummy-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8382843250418313449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8382843250418313449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/dinner-last-night-with-my-mummy-and.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3555023889701944623</id><published>2009-02-16T16:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T18:14:44.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Just to see you smile, I'd do anything&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna proclaim again that this year shall be the best year yet. There've been things/events/occurrences that have happened in the mere month and a half since the year started that have put a serious dent in my belief that 2009 will be good. And really, I don't wanna lose sight of that. Lose sight of what I have set my mind to do, lose sight of what's important to me in my life, lose sight of how great this year will be/already is. I refuse to succumb to the negative thoughts that are tempting me to fall into a discouraged, depressed mood. I just simply refuse. And although I don't quite believe in new year's resolutions, there is something that I want to do more of this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As hard is it is for me to not give in and say "okay, I'll do it"/"okay, I'll go" or whatever else that entails me doing something I really don't want to simply because I want to avoid confrontation, this year I'm gonna (try to at the very least) stand my ground and not let anyone beat me down, whether with a stick or their bare hands. I've recently come to the realisation that the ones who constantly use that to push me into doing things that I don't want to do present their commands in highly masked disapproval and contempt. So highly masked that more often than not, I end up second guessing myself. And then another round of indecision, of back and forth mind battle with myself begins.  But no, at 19, I really think its time to just inject alittle bit of control to make it a semblance of MY life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3555023889701944623?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3555023889701944623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-to-see-you-smile-id-do-anything-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3555023889701944623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3555023889701944623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-to-see-you-smile-id-do-anything-i.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2225361953937174072</id><published>2009-02-11T10:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T13:54:46.655+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;You're toxic, I'm slipping under.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With a taste of poison pardise, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm addicted to you,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't you know that you're toxic.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's mid-week already and I'm meeting nat, nat, nic and val later. Eet is very exciting! ((: Old old friends we are but we've had unbelievable fun, especially in the band room during the stnicks time. As exciting as it is, I'm also alittle uncertain about how it's gonna be. I haven't had much contact with them save for val and I can't help but wonder if it's gonna be awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marcus: you know whats my favourite drink of all time?&lt;br /&gt;nat: no what&lt;br /&gt;marcus: guess&lt;br /&gt;nat: GAS??? eww!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marcus: beer is awesome. and it gives you inspiration&lt;br /&gt;nat: huh! it gives you menstruation????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2225361953937174072?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2225361953937174072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/youre-toxic-im-slipping-under.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2225361953937174072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2225361953937174072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/youre-toxic-im-slipping-under.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6292887586355324707</id><published>2009-02-11T10:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T13:53:04.391+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZTtj2BFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/_GE8BYGSwIk/s1600-h/weisho-bowden-violat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397906550817874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZTtj2BFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/_GE8BYGSwIk/s320/weisho-bowden-violat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZTo8FRyI/AAAAAAAAAGA/HRhAxKDgeGA/s1600-h/Christian20Louboutin20platform20sho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397905310304034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZTo8FRyI/AAAAAAAAAGA/HRhAxKDgeGA/s320/Christian20Louboutin20platform20sho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZK64ub-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/PqXnzMdS3OE/s1600-h/thumbnailCA7OAWJR.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397755509239778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZK64ub-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/PqXnzMdS3OE/s320/thumbnailCA7OAWJR.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZK5cbZxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/YAsiGMDQ1UU/s1600-h/stuart_weitzman_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397755122116370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZK5cbZxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/YAsiGMDQ1UU/s320/stuart_weitzman_02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZKhjZU6I/AAAAAAAAAFo/FzjXNBlPdJw/s1600-h/raffia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397748708889506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZKhjZU6I/AAAAAAAAAFo/FzjXNBlPdJw/s320/raffia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZKmyFyrI/AAAAAAAAAFg/6CZaJh3o36A/s1600-h/PJ-AM160_pjFASH_20080409183338.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397750112701106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 204px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZKmyFyrI/AAAAAAAAAFg/6CZaJh3o36A/s320/PJ-AM160_pjFASH_20080409183338.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZKrZfTaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/t-wWC2ya67c/s1600-h/giuseppe-zanotti-knotted-slingback.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301397751351692706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 207px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZKrZfTaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/t-wWC2ya67c/s320/giuseppe-zanotti-knotted-slingback.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZI2Lv4BdYI/AAAAAAAAAFA/y9tZl3pzS2k/s1600-h/img-thing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301359286826399106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZI2Lv4BdYI/AAAAAAAAAFA/y9tZl3pzS2k/s320/img-thing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZI2LiOkZRI/AAAAAAAAAE4/xbs05BldpSY/s1600-h/Christian-Louboutin-Lady-Shoes-CCS1221.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301359283162866962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZI2LiOkZRI/AAAAAAAAAE4/xbs05BldpSY/s320/Christian-Louboutin-Lady-Shoes-CCS1221.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZI2Lt-pz3I/AAAAAAAAAEw/5R5P8VsuVPk/s1600-h/st120081008_24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301359286317338482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZI2Lt-pz3I/AAAAAAAAAEw/5R5P8VsuVPk/s320/st120081008_24.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Aren't these just the most gorgeous things you've ever seen (:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6292887586355324707?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6292887586355324707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/arent-these-just-most-gorgeous-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6292887586355324707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6292887586355324707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/arent-these-just-most-gorgeous-things.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SZJZTtj2BFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/_GE8BYGSwIk/s72-c/weisho-bowden-violat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-7472430566268984097</id><published>2009-02-10T17:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T10:18:58.834+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Paint me a pretty picture&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paint me a picture of today, before tomorrow takes it away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week marks the start of the once a month week-long prayer meeting in the morning and I'm really loving it. Although it means waking up really early and having to brave the winds in the morning (not an easy feat for me!), nothing beats starting the day right with having an intimate connection with God. Its not like the week magically becomes perfect or even close to it. But I find a happier, more relaxed me, being able to life my burdens to Him right from the start of the morning :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7472430566268984097?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7472430566268984097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/paint-me-pretty-picture-paint-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7472430566268984097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7472430566268984097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/paint-me-pretty-picture-paint-me.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1070694900383878871</id><published>2009-02-06T16:13:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T15:16:29.172+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299595198250027346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 108px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYvxwR0PCVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/47XkUjCeOyg/s320/love.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is so alluring about love that makes it such a popular conversation topic? Something on love life, or the lack of, would definitely find its way on dinner tables or over coffee. It is the instant connector that bridges time spent apart among old friends, the magical ingredient that binds strangers into feeling a lifetime of familiarity. The question is rhetorical, the answer quite a rude awakening: in the heart of hearts, we’re all looking for love, whether we realize it, whether we confess it, it is a desire that sits on everyone’s mind. Particularly so in this stage of life, before marriage when nothing is cast in stone diamond ring, after days of immaturity when we think we’re a little wiser, a little more discerning, the need to be in love with another human is- ever present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we talk about it all the time, the ideal guy, the ideal girl. We listen to lyrics that promise of fairytale endings, watch movies with gorgeous couples having candlelight dinners, read books that describe an experience so amazing, it carves a hole within us that enlarges the more we purposefully set out to find Love and pocket it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the sidelines of love, all I speak about is the difficulty of falling in love. All the other benchwarmers excluded from this capital L game agree. This unison and certainty in their replies unsettles me and makes me quite sick and tired of all this discussion. All talk and more talk makes the desire to be in love stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to realize that we can be in love, with possibly anyone, any person in this world. Our emotions are simply a concoction of various factors, our then state of mind, the people around, the environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one thing puzzles me greatly…if you never know what love is, how will you know you are in love? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I grabbed this off cheesy's blog from an entry a pretty long time ago. What wouldn't I give to be able to write like her :/// Anyway, she's put into words, very beautifully too I might add, sentiments that I've always had but never really succeeded in verbalising. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week is drawing to an end, Thank God Thank God THANK GOD and shaun's booking out soon (: means I get to meet the seven again hurrah :D The past week has been terrible, a culmination of haphazard occurrences at work, cogitations that make me realise how pigeonholed I am in my own life and an increasing tiredness that I feel from the inane job plus tuition with a tireless young boy. It's very satisfying in a way, especially knowing that I'm earning my keep and am somewhat financially independent from my parents. Still, the days in school were very much more enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being able to see val everyday. Miss our recesses together, lunch on mondays before our respective electives, laughter, tears, joy and sweat in the midst of band practices, miss our ice cream days when we needed a cheering up or just a boost of the morale. I miss kell, char, meiling. The absolute nonsense we get up to, late nights in school, the hugs, the comfort, the little notes and of course, the heart-to-hearts we had. Every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's cj. Maybe it wasnt exactly the best time of my life but then it was also the time where I've grown the most. Where I've seen/experienced for myself God's love, His grace, His mercy. And my life now, is everything that He's made it. A life that I never imagined I could have, a 180 degree turn for sure. The friends He's given me in the form of the seven, nicolette and etc, a relatively satisfying year academically and a family who now form a large part of my world with their support and love have made my life more than I could have even dreamed of. So whilst work has given me more money to spend, more money to give and bless, it has also reduced my happiest days to mere memories that I pick out on cold rainy days to recount in a failed attempt to relive the glorious times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, it's all part of the growing up process that everyone encounters, a process that hopefully makes us stronger, wiser, more capable. I'd like to think that as I age (hahahah), I'm becoming a better person. I'd like to think that the future can only hold even brighter prospects than it does now, that I'd be able to look back 10 years from now and not have a single regret. I'd like very much to grow up and live in 10 years, the life that I dream of now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1070694900383878871?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1070694900383878871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-is-so-alluring-about-love-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1070694900383878871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1070694900383878871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-is-so-alluring-about-love-that.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYvxwR0PCVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/47XkUjCeOyg/s72-c/love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-3778666232039219728</id><published>2009-02-06T11:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T11:47:09.681+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I was bored. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px; background:white; color:black; padding: 10px;text-align:center; border: 1px solid #333333;"&gt;Your rainbow is shaded&lt;b&gt; white and blue.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="background: #bf6680"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background: #bfbb80"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background: #bfe680"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background: #40d580"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background: #40b3ff"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background: #4066ff"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background: #9566ff"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;What is says about you: You are a tranquil person. You appreciate quiet moments. You share hobbies with friends and like trying to fit into their routines. People depend on you to make them feel secure.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://spacefem.com/quizzes/rainbow"&gt;Find the colors of your rainbow at spacefem.com.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;table bg border="1" width="50%" style="color:#7B68EE;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;big&gt;you are mediumslateblue&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7B68EE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:-1;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dominant hue is blue, making you a good friend who people love and trust. You're good in social situations and want to fit in. Just be careful not to compromise who you are to make them happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your saturation level is medium - You're not the most decisive go-getter, but you can get a job done when it's required of you. You probably don't think the world can change for you and don't want to spend too much effort trying to force it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://spacefem.com/quizzes/colors"&gt;the spacefem.com html color quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3778666232039219728?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3778666232039219728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-was-bored.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3778666232039219728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3778666232039219728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-was-bored.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-1468098480877706925</id><published>2009-02-05T12:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T15:56:04.628+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Marcus would say, EPICNESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.saidwhat.co.uk/quotes/famous/johann_wolfgang_von_goethe"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-1468098480877706925?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/1468098480877706925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/until-one-is-committed-there-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1468098480877706925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/1468098480877706925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/until-one-is-committed-there-is.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3408085807659934946</id><published>2009-02-04T14:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T17:33:33.130+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYlQhTgaYhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/AdVy9_zOi7g/s1600-h/dreams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298854969680224786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYlQhTgaYhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/AdVy9_zOi7g/s320/dreams.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No quiero gritar tu nombre, i en secreto pero como usted&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3408085807659934946?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3408085807659934946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/je-ne-veux-pas-de-crier-votre-nom-mais.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3408085807659934946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3408085807659934946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/je-ne-veux-pas-de-crier-votre-nom-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYlQhTgaYhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/AdVy9_zOi7g/s72-c/dreams.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-8163946861415663730</id><published>2009-02-02T17:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T17:50:43.317+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I need food. Comfort food to be exact. I am very hungry but I have zero appetite. And I need a new cope mechanism. A survival technique that doesn't involve food. Because I am very very very in need of comfort now and eating like a cow is just gonna put me on a guilt trip for the next three months. Binging is just not cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8163946861415663730?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8163946861415663730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-need-food.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8163946861415663730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8163946861415663730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-need-food.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3770604254753039284</id><published>2009-02-02T16:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T17:20:28.651+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;THE JOB&lt;/strong&gt;, is turning out to be a real pain in the ass. Seriously. The chance to get experience and all aside, its brainless, and frustrating because the customers can be really (for want of a better word) stupid. And the boss(es) can be really stupid. And lacking in logical thinking. Or maybe, it's just the nature of the job thats stupid. Not to mention, there's a very lousy system with which the company functions by and that coupled with the rigidity of employers and clients alike make for a fail-proof recipe for disaster. Basically, my point is really just that I'm starting to (REALLY) hate this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I feel like I'm in a really strange place in my life right now. Very much stagnated and in limbo. My life is not moving and for some reason, any recollection of attempts to nudge it along completely escapes me. Perhaps I never tried at all. I don't like feeling like my life is going absolutely nowhere. No, I don't like it at all. It just feels as if all the trouble I go to now is of no value to my life, like everything I've done was for no purpose whatsoever. Maybe I'm not making enough of an effort. Lately I've been feeling like my entire life has revolved around waiting. Waiting for the right opportunities, the right people, the right time, the right whatever, just &lt;em&gt;waiting&lt;/em&gt; for things to happen. Much as I don't quite mind spending aeons of time waiting,  I don't want to be labeled as a waiter (pun totally unintended). &lt;em&gt;I want to make things happen!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am just very frustrated :///&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3770604254753039284?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3770604254753039284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/job-is-turning-out-to-be-real-pain-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3770604254753039284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3770604254753039284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/job-is-turning-out-to-be-real-pain-in.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8969538367237105867</id><published>2009-02-02T10:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T15:54:47.727+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYqbL0H85nI/AAAAAAAAAEY/vESYLYd1Psk/s1600-h/sharon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299218538827671154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYqbL0H85nI/AAAAAAAAAEY/vESYLYd1Psk/s320/sharon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Essential yet appealed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carry all your thoughts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Across an open field&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When flowers gaze at you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They're not the only ones&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who cry when they see you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the most amazing day with sharon yesterday. She's truly a joy to be around (: I haven't felt so rested in a really long while. The first half of the day was just chilling at home which did me a world of good I tell you. And then after a long long bath, I went to meet sharon at city hall and we spent a good deal of time walking around, talking and sharing about what's been happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get to see her quite as often as I'd like so these little outings mean very much to me. She's one of the very (and I really mean VERY) few people-in church especially, in whom I feel comfortable enough to share my entire life with. Every aspect of it, down to the very last detail. Still, I'm glad that of all the ones in my life, she's one of the handful I would entrust my life to. I like my life that way (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8969538367237105867?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8969538367237105867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/essential-yet-appealed-carry-all-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8969538367237105867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8969538367237105867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/02/essential-yet-appealed-carry-all-your.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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/_MzKo9ZkMewg/SYqbL0H85nI/AAAAAAAAAEY/vESYLYd1Psk/s72-c/sharon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8733730.post-6519130186212778252</id><published>2009-01-30T15:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T15:41:50.345+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm having the strongest craving for like pasta, or potatoes. Or brownies with ice cream. and sushi. Or thai food. Mmmmm. Or maybe just a sandwich. But a really good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So mommy offered to pay me to tutor my brother and I decided to take up the job. Why not right! We had our first lesson two night ago and I really must say, it wasn't as bad as I'd expected at all! I figured that we'll probably end every single lesson in a fight since he tends to disregard things that I say. But he was really cute during the lesson. Armed with plentiful amounts of energy, he was zooming around the room on his office chair, talking at the top of his voice about a secret he wanted to tell me. I on the other hand, was insanely tired with scarcely enough energy to talk at all. On the whole though, I suppose it was a good lesson. Teaching was something I'd wanted to do anyways, and working with kids is my passion. I guess this was a really good break cos it gives me more cash AND the chance to explore a job beyond just the mindless one I have right now that doesn't quite exercise my brain. I've turned into a girl with mush for a brain. I really should do something more about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6519130186212778252?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6519130186212778252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-having-strongest-craving-for-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6519130186212778252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6519130186212778252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-having-strongest-craving-for-like.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-759363222467482521</id><published>2009-01-29T13:54:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:26:18.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;The Five Love Languages&lt;/h2&gt;My primary love language is probably&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quality Time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with a secondary love language being&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Acts of Service&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Complete set of results&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="'0'" cellpadding="'0'" border="'0'"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Quality Time: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="'20'"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;12&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Acts of Service: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="'20'"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Words of Affirmation: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="'20'"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Physical Touch: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="'20'"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Receiving Gifts: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="'20'"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Information&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;p&gt;Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youthnetsouthampton.org.uk/breakout/lovelanguages.php/" target="'_blank'"&gt;Take the quiz&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the third time I've done the quiz and the results have been different all three times hahaha. But I think this set of results quite accurately reflects my love language(s). Choosing to spend time with me means very much more to me than giving me gifts (: it's a good thing I think!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-759363222467482521?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/759363222467482521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/five-love-languages-my-primary-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/759363222467482521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/759363222467482521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/five-love-languages-my-primary-love.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3351732162367089549</id><published>2009-01-29T09:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T09:32:50.795+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So this is me, in a job that many consider a far-off, unattainable dream. As it is, I can hardly believe it myself. I half expect to wake up and find myself dusting off debris of this wonderful dream I'm in. But no, its reality indeed. I'm sitting in a studio chair, in what looks like the scene from the backstage of a getai show. The lights, the make-up, the hair, the 101 people fussing over parts of my body I never even knew existed, seems like too much for an 18-year-old to take in. But take it in is what I do. I breathe in the condensed smell of hairspray and cigarette smoke. Everything about this industry just seems to defy the straight and narrow. The Devil's Lair it should be called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          So here it is, a shoot in which people would die to be part of. A blur of half-starved bodies come and go, in and out. I haven't been in the industry long but its been long enough for me to get a tinge bored. The producer beckons and I saunter over, careful not to fall but at the same time project the image that what I do is effortless. I stand, over a block of ice that's been placed there to create irony. Of what they didn't say. They never explain. A doll is what they think I am, with nothing in that pretty head of mine. The ice is starting to melt, what with the heat coming from the lights of the camera. My stiletto slips, it bores a hole in the ice and I'm sinking. It's awfully cold as I wait for the photographer to get the lights, the angle, the feel, just right. It's been an hour and I'm still on the ice. Take the damn picture already, I think. And finally, he does. Clicks and flashes, clicks and flashes. A new roll of film, and clicks and flashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          So now its done. It's finally over. I step gingerly towards the computer that holds the rolls and rolls of photos. I can hardly feel my feet which makes the looking effortless part difficult. Oh I've heard about the pains woman go to for beauty but this, this is not pain. It's torture. But they're right. The ice does create irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I barely flinch as three rookie girls peel off the dress. They try at the very least. The hooks of the dress barely move. That's what they mean by a second skin, it's so tight it's been etched on. “ Oh move it, you're not doing anything, pulling at the dress like that. Nat, love, I've secured dinner with Danny at The Hilton tonight. Wear the strapless dress that Nicole sent. No bra please. I'll see you there at 8.” Abby turns to leave, “Oh and my dear, remember, 3 bites max. I'll see you darling!” With that, she's gone and I'm left alone with a dress impossible to remove, caked on make-up and hair stiff with glitter and hairspray. It's funny how the agents had first lapped me up for having a natural body. No hint of plastic surgery or work done anywhere, a rare find, a gem! They all nod, the designers, producers, editors, agents, managers. I stifle a giggle, wondering if any of them had brains. Now, now I go nowhere without an artificially constructed face thats been created by a team of make-up artists. My 'natural' look has been replaced by the look of the moment and the face that greets me from the mirror no longer reflects the same 'me' I used to see. Made-up, that is what I am now. With layers of foundation, concealer, loose-powder. It's an art, thats what it is. I don't know if this is a lament. I knew what I was signing up for when I penned my name on the contract. Far from the innocent girl so mesmerized with the industry that she was willing to give up all, I walked in with eyes wide-open. A girl in an industry with no morals, trying to hold her own. A girl, I called myself. I'm eighteen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          The endless photo-shoots, clothes fittings and test shots that have been crammed into my daily routine have subtly reduced my ability to think. So subtly in fact, that I've almost failed to recognize that I can no longer formulate articulate, cleverly designed arguments as I'd learned to do over the years. Neither do I spare even a thought about the things which used to matter so much to me. It's been almost a year since I've last learnt of hurricanes and whatnot from the news. No, what I know now I hear from the grapevine. The fashion industry's only connection to happenings in the world is the portrayal of the events through a whirlwind change of clothing style, It bags and up-and-coming designers. Thinking is now obsolete, I wonder to myself as I walk down the street in stilettos as high and thin as spoon handles. I'm heading for the coffee joint at the corner of the street for a cappuccino, my only meal for the day. That and the three bites I'm entitled to at dinner, for appearance sake only. Eating, like thinking, is now somewhat of a distanced memory that I can hardly conjure up in my mind. It is the one luxury that I cannot afford. Or maybe, will not. It's the baggage that comes with modelling but yet, its a conscious choice that I've made. That's what the industry does to you, blurs the line between what you have to do and what you choose to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          The waitress tries not to stare, her eyes failing to depart from my skinny frame for more than seconds at a time. She must be new. The other cafe workers have already mastered the ability to stare discreetly. Or so they think. Initially, it was flattering. Then it became hilarious and on certain days, annoying. I was her once, I think, young, naive and hopeful. But I still am, I reason. Only that I now hope for different things, I hope for more and my hopes have now become desires. Like Lust. Lust that I represent in the ads for Chanel's new spring fragrance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3351732162367089549?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3351732162367089549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-this-is-me-in-job-that-many-consider.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3351732162367089549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3351732162367089549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-this-is-me-in-job-that-many-consider.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3642420229057157005</id><published>2009-01-28T11:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T11:56:50.301+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have a hope so sure, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;An anchor for my soul&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My peace in the worst of times, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I trust in God alone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let every voice declare it now, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My God reigns &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;His love will never fail me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My God reigns, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He's ruling over all. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In all my life, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In every situation I know, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My God is greater, My God is over all.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3642420229057157005?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3642420229057157005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-have-hope-so-sure-anchor-for-my-soul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3642420229057157005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3642420229057157005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-have-hope-so-sure-anchor-for-my-soul.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7780693986167371043</id><published>2009-01-22T13:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T09:35:14.917+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Time waits for no man. Time heals all wounds. All any of us can want is more time. Time to stand up. Time to grow up. Time to let go. Time.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Meredith Grey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7780693986167371043?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7780693986167371043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/time-waits-for-no-man.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7780693986167371043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7780693986167371043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/time-waits-for-no-man.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8937365621210971209</id><published>2009-01-19T14:58:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T15:23:19.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I got tired of waiting.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wondering if you were ever coming around.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My faith in you was fading-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I met you on the outskirts of town.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I said...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Romeo save me, I've been feeling so alone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I keep waiting, for you but you never come.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is this in my head, I don't know what to think&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And that's all I really know&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole concept of Romeo and Juliet, of fairy tales and happily-ever-afters, it's rather peculiar I feel. It's something that we all want to believe in. That one day, eventually, we'll get there, have our own happily-ever-after. That we'll one day wake up in the morning with our knight in shining armour right by our side, without a care in the world. We want to believe that when we find the right person, nothing else in the world would matter, that we would be powerful enough to overcome every hurdle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it's a good thing. Maybe we do get our happy endings because we believe so strongly in it. Or maybe, it's just a cope mechanism of sorts. Something that keeps us going when the going gets tough and we just feel like lying in bed and waiting for the world to end. Which happens. Even to the best of us. On days I want to curl up in a ball and hide away from the world, fairy tale endings seem like the last thing that could happen. But still, still it's a hope that my soul clings on to. Something I say to make me feel better as I cry into my pillow in the late of the night, staring down into the cold blue pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Knowing that it's not actually true, that fairy tale endings almost never happen for the bulk of us, should in theory diminish the hope and trust that I place in it. Yet all it does is make me hope even stronger, even more, to have a piece of the happily-ever-after pie. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the band played songs we had never heard &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but we danced anyway&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8937365621210971209?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8937365621210971209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/romeo-save-me-ive-been-feeling-so-alone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8937365621210971209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8937365621210971209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/romeo-save-me-ive-been-feeling-so-alone.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-3731187187133642942</id><published>2009-01-17T20:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T15:09:57.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was just re-reading a previous entry about opening my life up to more accidental opportunities and I got reminded of something feng and I were talking about during his lunch. Talking to him about the seven, this friendship that we share and about God in our lives, I've come to realise I no longer believe in accidents, coincidences or luck. God really has our life planned out for us so meticulously, down to every last second. It used to amaze me how great He is in my life and it still does. He really is truly the God of the universe, my provider, my redeemer, my shelter, my strength, my refuge. My all in one, the Lord of my life. Here, now, I just want to remind myself of how grateful I am with what I have, all that I've been blessed with, all that has worked out by the grace of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-3731187187133642942?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/3731187187133642942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-was-just-re-reading-previous-entry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3731187187133642942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/3731187187133642942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-was-just-re-reading-previous-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-7691687328858323325</id><published>2009-01-17T16:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T20:14:22.789+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;No need to translate,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'cause my eyes give me away,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Even though my lips don't say...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This should be so easy,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But my head gets in the way,&lt;br /&gt;All the things that I want to tell you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My social life has been killed off by work which is really really sad. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cny&lt;/span&gt; is coming which gives me a long weekend and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of people to meet up with. Particularly with the six of course (: And I met &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;robyn&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;feng&lt;/span&gt; for breakfast/lunch today which has also made my week. I love these people very very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;muchos&lt;/span&gt; and any time spent with them is always a joy. Always, always and forever. I think the reason it works with the seven of us, odd number and short period of friendship considered, is that we're all really different and we bring different things to the table. Of course, we've strengths and weaknesses in different areas and so our characters perfectly complement each other. One of my favourite explanations though, is that God's favour and presence is with us always. Five of the seven share an intimate relationship with Him and naturally, his presence follows our relationships and even with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;marcus&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;shaun&lt;/span&gt;, i know that He's working in their lives in ways we may not be able to comprehend. But He's working in their lives, in all of ours, of that I've have absolutely no doubt. In any case, it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; matter what the reason is, all that really matters is that flaws and weaknesses aside, we're still friends and we love each other. This new year, I've come to a newer and I'd like to think higher level in my relationship with God and this strength I draw from Him and the six makes me feel like I can conquer the world. For sure, 2009 will be the best year yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-7691687328858323325?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/7691687328858323325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-need-to-translate-cause-my-eyes-give.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7691687328858323325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/7691687328858323325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-need-to-translate-cause-my-eyes-give.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-6930435067930086502</id><published>2009-01-14T10:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T10:03:34.517+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Because liking isn't strong enough, it isn't good enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-6930435067930086502?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/6930435067930086502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/because-liking-isnt-strong-enough-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6930435067930086502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/6930435067930086502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/because-liking-isnt-strong-enough-it.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-2957140945480638391</id><published>2009-01-12T11:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T11:57:40.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SO, I've been reading the book sexgod which talks about how sexuality relates to spirituality and the relationship between the two. It's not bad, surprisingly. When I read the first chapter, I kind of thought it was all bullshit and nonsense, but subsequently, it got alot better. There are parts of the book (in the guise of more bullshit) that are really good, really relevant and makes alot of sense. Words and advice that I sure could use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liking aside, there's alot more to a relationship than just having mutual feelings I guess. Maybe liking someone just simply isn't enough. Much as we would like for it to be, maybe it's time we all got rid of the fairy tale endings we so believe in. Perhaps teaching kids about happily-ever-after is a bigger mistake than we can comprehend. It's teaching them false hope, setting them up for almost certain failure or disappointment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-2957140945480638391?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/2957140945480638391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-ive-been-reading-book-sexgod-which.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2957140945480638391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/2957140945480638391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-ive-been-reading-book-sexgod-which.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-8316429348690520072</id><published>2009-01-09T15:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T15:23:39.877+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All I know is that you're so nice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You're the nicest thing I've seen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish that we could give it a go&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See if we could be something&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish I was your favourite girl&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish the way that I dressed was your favourite kind of style&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish you couldn't figure me out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But you always wanna know what I was about&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish you'd hold my hand&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I was upset&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish you'd never forget&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The look on my face when we first met&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish you had a favourite beauty spot&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That you loved secretly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cause it was on a hidden bit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That nobody else could see&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Basically, I wish that you loved me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish that you needed me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iwish that you knew when I said two sugars,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Actually I meant three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish that without me your heart would break&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish that without me you couldn't eat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I wish that we could see if we could be something&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yeah I wish that we could see if we could be something&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;cramps suck&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-8316429348690520072?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/8316429348690520072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/all-i-know-is-that-youre-so-nice-youre.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8316429348690520072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/8316429348690520072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/all-i-know-is-that-youre-so-nice-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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-8733730.post-4178963151057839463</id><published>2009-01-08T21:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T22:09:47.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Edward Cullen, Twilight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been very hectic lately and it's all starting to pile up! No more slacker days for us man :/ Then again, it really beats sitting around having nothing to do all day. I must say, the job is turning out to be much more than I expected. It's definitely an eye-opener dealing with clients and even with the colleagues in the office. Customer service and all isn't easy at all! But, I've been blessed, my clients have mostly been nice and friendly and everything's going more smoothly than I expected. Praise God, I see His favour upon my life (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaun's enlisting tomorrow and I think all in the 7 are feeling rather upset about it :// I suppose in a way he's been the glue of the group, binding and sticking us together, always around with bountiful amounts of energy, albeit manifested in ways that are sometimes annoying. Still, I'm apprehensive about what greets us with his enlistment although I know for sure that we still love each other and we'll be hanging out as much as we can ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye shaun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8733730-4178963151057839463?l=stuckk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/feeds/4178963151057839463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-dont-have-strength-to-stay-away-from.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4178963151057839463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8733730/posts/default/4178963151057839463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuckk.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-dont-have-strength-to-stay-away-from.html' title=''/><author><name>invisible me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00084856283414555198</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>
