<?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-32623781</id><updated>2011-04-22T02:19:13.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'>reflections</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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>228</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-425302403455355891</id><published>2008-09-05T23:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T23:19:34.451+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;i went for a run just now. i ran and ran and ran. i never thought i could run so fast for so long. then i stopped and i just sat alone in the dark along the canal. and for those few moments, i could only hear the beating of my heart and i felt nothing. for awhile i thought i was drunk on running so fast. i just sat there and looked ahead at the waters. running thoughts through my mind. like everything just rolled along the way. then i looked up, looked around, and suddenly i started feeling the pain from my toes up. i was aching everywhere. and the pain wouldn't stop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;i think the saddest thing that could happen to anyone is when sth happens to you but nobody knows. they may care but do they know? or they just continue living everyday as it was just another day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;i want the world to stop going when sth bad happens. just for awhile. i don't want to have to live like nothing is wrong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;is it the one you don't need but the one you want? or is it the one you need but the one you don't want? i realised the one i need i can no longer have. but like tonight when im all alone because no one cares. i let go of the one i need for the one i want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;i don't even know what im saying anymore. i don't even know what to do. or who i want. or need. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-425302403455355891?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/425302403455355891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=425302403455355891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/425302403455355891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/425302403455355891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-dont-know.html' title='i don&apos;t know'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1391886724623191146</id><published>2008-09-03T21:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T21:55:55.518+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss US</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;i miss US. when you're there you just somehow feel you belong there so much more than you belong here. it's just so restricted. back in the states, we managed to do whatever we wanted to. we managed to say whatever we wanted to say. only cause we were in the states. i've never felt so strongly bout the freedom of speech, never fully every understood what that meant till i actually went there. the US national anthem states US as a land of the free. do you know how much that could mean to me now? i really want to be free. i want to breathe the US air again, i want to go back to experiencing the culture there, i want to go back and walk the entire golden gate bridge over and over again, i want to go down lombard street and look back up, i want to spend my nights there crying because everything was so perfect. so perfect. have you ever felt that something or somewhere was just so perfect? not because of the awesome stars that lit up the dark nights, neither was it because of the beautiful sceneries that US offers -- though they definitely play a part; but because of the feeling you get where you are so carefree, nothing to worry about, nothing at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;those were definitely the best days of my life. i found what i wanted, what i needed. i found myself. i grew up. and my life just totally started all over again from there.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1391886724623191146?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1391886724623191146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1391886724623191146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1391886724623191146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1391886724623191146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-miss-us.html' title='i miss US'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2612876652348650665</id><published>2008-07-17T12:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T12:20:21.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>everyone seems to be growing up but is there ever a stage when you feel that you're not growing up; but instead feel that you seem to be remaining at a certain stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anwys i miss timbers. &amp;amp; the music. &amp;amp; i miss ____.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2612876652348650665?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2612876652348650665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2612876652348650665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2612876652348650665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2612876652348650665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/07/everyone-seems-to-be-growing-up-but-is.html' title=''/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-632442288823726158</id><published>2008-06-06T09:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T09:43:27.544+08:00</updated><title type='text'>when your heart's not in it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;it is really scary how alone i actually am in a world that is new to me; yet i don't mind at all being alone in this new world that gives me so much happiness. i don't need anyone to make me happy to be happy. what a new feeling that i have. i am amazed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;if you really love someone, would you let the person go and catch the person back anytime you get the chance to? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;who would you love? someone who thinks you're crazy all the time? or someone who thinks you're perfect no matter what? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;it all happens when your heart's not in it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-632442288823726158?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/632442288823726158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=632442288823726158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/632442288823726158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/632442288823726158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/06/when-your-hearts-not-in-it.html' title='when your heart&apos;s not in it'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8728924904863567613</id><published>2008-05-28T09:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T10:40:19.939+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;have you ever read something that is related to you in one way or another? there's this blog existing somewhere in the world. and there's this person writing this blog. and everytime i read the blog, tears come to me. my heart suddenly beats with unberable slowness and an ache which never fails to stay plastered on that broken heart of mine. and why broken right? why broken when it seems you have the perfect guy with you. but what if that passion isn't there? what if you mixed up the feelings of everything you ever knew. and the perfect guy no matter how perfect isn't perfect for you. what if imperfectness was perfect for me? truthfully and honestly, i never stop, never ever stop thinking bout that question. most nights if im not too tired, that question comes to me, and that slow ache comes back once more, just like how it feels when i read that blog. that existing blog somewhere in the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i never stressed or had a best friend. usually it was close friends, the familiar people you hang out with once in awhile and still talk about the rubbish, the character that doesn't change, it's all so familiar and safe. so my question is whats the feeling of having a best friend? how do you know that person is your best friend? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;mtyweb abyy. sometimes things are easier left unsaid. sometimes everything seems happy, you think the person is happy; then you see the person cry. for no reason. out of nowhere. and you see the person cry. then you get to choose to either pick up the person's broken pieces or let it lie. and me, i so want to pick them up and heal them. but sometimes it'd do more harm than good. i wish someone knew. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. love at first sight is true. really. it can really happen. and when it does, you'll know it. the most magical moment that you will probably never forget in your entire life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;pps. love at first sight, if its not meant to be, it will never be. and it can be so painful too. but you will carry that moment with you for life. hope is what gets you going, moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;steph, i miss you. now. badly. i wish i had someone else around now. i wish it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ben, reply me online lehs. its not easy coming online these few days esp if i got work. the hours kill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;abyy, i don't have to say anything, it's in the eyes. in the mind. in the heart. in the soul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8728924904863567613?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8728924904863567613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8728924904863567613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8728924904863567613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8728924904863567613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/05/love.html' title='love'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-954519049741886325</id><published>2008-05-15T20:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:36:56.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'>meloandnut.blogspot.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;hello! melo is now in usa. updates can be found on erm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meloandnut.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;www.meloandnut.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyone wanna help change the blogskin pls feel free to email me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-954519049741886325?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/954519049741886325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=954519049741886325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/954519049741886325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/954519049741886325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/05/meloandnutblogspotcom.html' title='meloandnut.blogspot.com'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3952627205032794851</id><published>2008-05-08T23:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T23:50:49.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>because of what happened just now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so after the exams, here's what i've been up to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;monday: met ying liang for supper at starbucks siglap. but the place was super crowded, the whole place was filled. so we headed down to coffee club for drinks. (: i know at this point of time, there should be some pictures to fill up the details, but apparently i'm experiencing some really irritating problems. so, we had a good catching up session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waitress: are you guys ready to place your order?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;him: yup, i'm ready but i think the lady needs another 5 mintues.&lt;br /&gt;(waitress walks away)&lt;br /&gt;me: so what are you having?&lt;br /&gt;him: i don't know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;hahahahs. it was damn funny la. thanks for the really pretty book! and the super creative model. grins. i'm going to be missing you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tuesday: i cleaned my room so now it looks so much better. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then headed down to PS to meet benjamin. my mackers breakfast buddy! walked around, talked crap and then went to watch movie -- doomsday. it's a stupid show, something like i am lengend.  hahhas gory but ben and i had some good times laughing at the funny parts. which were SUPER dumb. hahhahs. Rhona Mitra's super hot in the show. her eye colour's gorgeous and so is her hairstyle in the movie. omg. i kept ranting on to ben bout how hot she was la. hahahhs. oh ya, though she fights and almost dies and all, her hair, though in a mess is still so perfect. and so are her perfectly mascaraed and curled eyelashes. tsktsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks ben! for the many food inc the pads and the condom and plaster food imitation. grins.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after which went with daddy to st annes. weijie was working so couldn't meet him. hmms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wednesday: did my brows at browhaus in the morning then met up with toh to do our international license. and had lunch at singtel. bittersweet singtel nostalgia. ahhahas. after which we headed to his place to do erm. NOTHING AT ALL. oh he finally cleared his room too. and we decided to cook pasta for his family for dinner. which was yumm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we headed out to zouk. i tell you, we reached zouk arnd 945 and the queue to phuture was crazy. i think it's ridiculous that zouk has ladies ticket restriction on ladies night. i was so pissed off. after we queued for so long. rubbish. so the two tohs and i cabbed down to mos. which seemed to be super boring at first but after midnight it was a blast. andrea and jamies came down to join us too! we all had flamin lambo and so on. my first on flamin lambo. it's super nice! (((((((((: it really hit after that gulp of martel. took crazy number of photos. but i can't upload them cause there's a prob rmb? but we all had alot of fun. the best of the mambo hits were played and smoove had good rnb too. (: DJ TANG IS DROP DEAD HUNKY OMG. hahhahas. i've a huge crush on him. my legs were killing me after the night was through. andrea and jamies left early as she had school the next day. and the 2 tohs and i headed to azhars for supper. hottie 1 and hottie 2 were damn high. ahahhahas. so we were being damn loud and sprouting pounds of rubbish. lolls. once we stepped into the house i was fast aslp. toh went to bathe can. siao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thurs: again we did nothing. hahahs. we woke up super duper late and was just in time to catch the jackie chan and jet li show at westmall. after which headed down to the plaza market cafe at the swisshotel to eat dinner buffet. thanks uncle george for the voucher! ahhahs. ate till we couldn't eat anymore. esp since we hadn't eaten anything the entire day. so now i'm back home with all these news.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. i'm super tired. i just want to be with yeanlih right now. because of what happened just now. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3952627205032794851?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3952627205032794851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3952627205032794851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3952627205032794851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3952627205032794851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/05/because-of-what-happened-just-now.html' title='because of what happened just now'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5223930241541218675</id><published>2008-05-07T09:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T09:12:34.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fucking fuckers all around the damned world</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;this is for the screwed up piece of fucking BITCH:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;if you fucking do not know how fucking old you are, do a reality check. FUCKING DO IT. don't go messing around with ppl way too young for you. and if you tell me that you have a boyfriend, you really fucking don't look like when you hit the clubs and fuck around. so i really pity him cause he really doesn't know what kinda bitch you really are. and if you wanna drink yourself damn fucking high till you're so damned fucking drunk, don't go around messing with the wrong people. but too damned bad for you cause that's exactly what you did bitch. so fucking don't ever let me see you. and fucking don't ever let me see you with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;now this is for the screwed up piece of fucking WIMP:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you want to fucking fuck around to anyone go ahead. just don't fucking mess around with me. fucking telling me one thing and doing another. maybe you shouldn't have even told me bout the whole damned thing to start off with. no, fucking didn't help. so listen up and listen good. thanks for your oh so damned indirect challenge. guess what, im taking you on. wait and see. in the meantime, why don't you go fuck someone on sunday too. cos you're so damned over. you say she was the one fucking up, well the pictures sure don't show it. fucking stop lying to me. i hate liars. you fucking know it. now you can shove your ass up somewhere else. and hey fuck you right back. you messed up big time and with the wrong bitch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;fucking fuckers all around the damned world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5223930241541218675?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5223930241541218675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5223930241541218675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5223930241541218675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5223930241541218675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/05/fucking-fuckers-all-around-damned-world.html' title='fucking fuckers all around the damned world'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-9085818210375662565</id><published>2008-05-04T16:59:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T17:50:40.989+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hate for her would probably do me some justice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;just because you know what i will say in response to something or because we assimilate into each other's style of talking does NOT mean that you know me. you know that simply because we've talked about the same topic repeatedly and neither one of us is going to change our stand. you only THINK you know me. but your knowledge of me is so minimal and limited in certain areas that are repeatedly discussed about. it's not easy to know someone even if you spend every single day and every single hour with that person. to know about someone is to ask and for that someone to tell. so how can you say you know someone if you don't ask and that someone doesn't tell? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;have you ever experienced a "me-day"? just lazing in bed with the aircon on and diana krall playing on the stereo set with a good book and good wine with nothing but a short top and undies on? maybe you should then. just take a listen to the almost nothingness. with nothing to worry about and just to relax and reflect about how life has taken a ride on you with the gods looking down and smiling knowingly at you. when you reflect about your life, what do you think of? the happy times or sad times? who do you think of? the people you love or those you hate? where do you think of? the places you know or those you don't?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;ps. it's truly amazing how she's not even existing in my life yet i can let her affect me when after so long she still manages to swipe you off your feet and snatch you away from me. and i believe that it is even more amazing that after all that has happened, i'm still filled with admiration for her. filling me with a tinge of hate for her would probably do me some justice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;my heart's aching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;the tears are falling&lt;br /&gt;and you are still not here&lt;br /&gt;you will never be there&lt;br /&gt;or even care&lt;br /&gt;when she's near&lt;br /&gt;your heart belongs to her&lt;br /&gt;whom you cherish so dear&lt;br /&gt;so i'm taking a step away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I hope my smile&lt;br /&gt;can distract you&lt;br /&gt;I hope my fists&lt;br /&gt;can fight for two&lt;br /&gt;So it never has to show&lt;br /&gt;And you’ll never know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope my love&lt;br /&gt;can blind you&lt;br /&gt;I hope my arms&lt;br /&gt;can bind you&lt;br /&gt;So you’ll never have to see&lt;br /&gt;What we’ve grown to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One may think&lt;br /&gt;we’re alright&lt;br /&gt;But we need pills&lt;br /&gt;to sleep at night&lt;br /&gt;We need lies&lt;br /&gt;to make it through the day&lt;br /&gt;We’re not ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One may think&lt;br /&gt;we’re doing fine&lt;br /&gt;But if I had to lay it on the line&lt;br /&gt;We’re losing ground&lt;br /&gt;with every passing day&lt;br /&gt;We’re not ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that’s one thing&lt;br /&gt;I would never&lt;br /&gt;One thing I would never&lt;br /&gt;That’s one thing&lt;br /&gt;I would never say to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;it's the best song to describe how i feel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-9085818210375662565?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/9085818210375662565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=9085818210375662565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/9085818210375662565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/9085818210375662565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/05/hate-for-her-would-probably-do-me-some.html' title='hate for her would probably do me some justice'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8453354346278926808</id><published>2008-04-30T21:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T21:26:30.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>think js sucks to the core</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i'm thinking of writing that many thoughts going through my mind and the many analysis i've came up with, but i'm too damned tired to do so. therefore, here's just how life is/has been/was/will be:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. exams have started. and it's not been going very well. just had my second paper -- js this afternoon, which honest to death sucked like mad. i'm definitely gonn' fail this paper. SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. jacob, continue missing me then. hahahs. throughout the 3 months. loll. i'll see you before i leave if fate allows. hahhahas. if not, i'll see you when i get back on friday nights in church again!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. the weather in sg is damn bad. it's super hot and damn humid. i've not felt the weather this humid before. esp since the past month was spent raining nonstop. luckily i'm getting out of town soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. me, jiaying, toh, andrea, andrea's friend are going mambo next wed. so the rest of you ppl, lemme know if you're going. and do try to go so i can take pictures with many of you before i leave! which is SOOOOOON.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. and as i am leaving SOOOOOOOON, pls book me if you wanna go out after exams before me flying off. as of such, i'm like booked. but i'll make time for the FREAKS. GUAN CHENG!!! (: CHERYL!!! (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;6. steph megan is staying over on monday 12th may! yes! can't wait! sister i miss you tons of tomyum soup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. rese concert is this sat night in ucc. and i have 2 close book essay papers one in the morn, one in the afternoon in sch too. shits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;8. cousins ktv next sat! hopefully. and next sat night fam dinner for me going away &amp;amp; for mothers day (sayang villa onlys) ((: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;9. alan says he will paint my room for me while i'm away !! ((((: aaahhahs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;melissa is going to bathe now. i really think js sucks to the core. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. i hate my cousin's superior. like fuck off bitch! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8453354346278926808?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8453354346278926808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8453354346278926808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8453354346278926808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8453354346278926808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/think-js-sucks-to-core.html' title='think js sucks to the core'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5915059864007710885</id><published>2008-04-26T14:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T15:11:49.932+08:00</updated><title type='text'>risk...luck...rare</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i just have to reply to this post that someone had made in his blog. the art of being happy, lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;if anyone is keeping up with the 7pm chinese show on channel 8 -- life made simple. i think that ah wang guy is really, truly happy. i'm not super big on hongkong shows, but this character that he was playing really touched me. and i just continued watching it. it really shows and emphasises on how the simplest things in life that ppl don't appreciate can really, in itself make one happy. on him being mentally retarded, but he manages to understand and display so much more maturity than anyone else in the show. the countless positive traits he shows in his personality in the series is more than i can even think of myself. and the life he lives is so simple, yet so fulfilling, most importantly though, so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i talk now about falling in love. yes, i agree. falling in love is a &lt;strong&gt;risk&lt;/strong&gt; itself. and when you're happily in love, you think that you're the &lt;strong&gt;luck&lt;/strong&gt;iest person in the world to have such a &lt;strong&gt;rare&lt;/strong&gt; partner to love and be loved. but when you fall out of love, do you think that you should have never taken such a &lt;strong&gt;risk&lt;/strong&gt;? that you're the world's most un&lt;strong&gt;luck&lt;/strong&gt;iest person? that your partner is not &lt;strong&gt;rare&lt;/strong&gt; but just like every other girl or guy that you fell out of love with too because they never cherished you when they had the chance to? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;it's funny, the latter was what i used to think and feel. and that so much angst and hurt and pain i had inside of me could almost never be replaced at all by any amount of efforts made by the person. but i suppose as time passes, the hurt and pain and angst dies down. you no longer have so bitter feelings; rather you have nostalgic memories of the past and things were all over again. times when somethings happens to you and though you've moved on, the only person you feel like telling that something to is the person who caused all that hurt and pain and angst. you don't know why, but you just feel like it. somehow you just know that the person knows exactly the right words to say to make it all better. and they are those random and sudden msgs you send out to a person or you receive from a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after writing it all, i want to ask this person with this blog post of which im replying to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;how about yurself? are yu willing to take another risk again? or have yu shut all yur doors already? and most importantly, are yu happy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5915059864007710885?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5915059864007710885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5915059864007710885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5915059864007710885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5915059864007710885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/riskluckrare.html' title='risk...luck...rare'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8305054139134361698</id><published>2008-04-25T13:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T13:44:00.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>no other options if you want a chance in earning those big bucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i'm just not cut out for it. i mean it's stupid to have gone through all that trouble for nothing. yea, perhaps they were all right from the start. just totally got reinforced by all the returned assignments and projects. now it's really demoralising and hoho. the exams are next week. i'm burnt and tired. fucking results. shouldn't even have let me gone to the uni in the first place. reminds me of the days i had in dhs. fucked up days. like what i'm having now. should have just sent me overseas. fuck all that money spent on the stupid damned fucked up houses. no point in staying in uni and getting all that fucked up grades. what difference does it make when you have a lousy degree anwys. such a mindfuck to find a job here. feel so constrained like you can't move and you got no other options if u want a chance in earning those big bucks and living up to what everyone deems is the family status. yea and so i'm not doing well. and im sick &amp;amp; tired of being outbeaten by all those smart students. it just eats me when they re not even trying to study and here i am trying my best. all so that i can still be lousier than them. oh fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ben hurry up come back. you owe me those 10 sticks. and many drinks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8305054139134361698?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8305054139134361698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8305054139134361698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8305054139134361698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8305054139134361698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-other-options-if-you-want-chance-in.html' title='no other options if you want a chance in earning those big bucks'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4050731614132769856</id><published>2008-04-23T18:44:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T18:53:56.368+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fake superficial asses</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i just got reminded yet again why i hate ppl from super good schools. cause they do well even without studying. and better yet. when they have damned good results already, they think their results suck. and better yet, they even look down on other ppl. i don't know. is this not fake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like your results are fine, they don't suck, and they aren't supremely good either. but can you not go around telling other ppl whose results sucked that your results are damn bad. if you say your results suck, then what exaclty are you trying to tell ppl who did worse than you? that they are so damned stupid and they will definitely not make it? and after complaining about how 'bad' your results acty are, you say that they were supposed to be worse, but luckily there are stupider ppl who make your results better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OH COME ON. WHAT THE FUCK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck them all fake superficial asses.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4050731614132769856?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4050731614132769856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4050731614132769856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4050731614132769856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4050731614132769856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/fake-superficial-asses.html' title='fake superficial asses'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8678743325761446060</id><published>2008-04-21T20:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T20:53:49.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>first person i see in my dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;and i'm going to say it one more time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;everything is mtyweb. esp when i'm still around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;so i'm going to close my eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;and the it will be the first person i see in my dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8678743325761446060?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8678743325761446060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8678743325761446060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8678743325761446060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8678743325761446060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/first-person-i-see-in-my-dreams.html' title='first person i see in my dreams'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5062156888805721869</id><published>2008-04-21T10:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T10:45:53.455+08:00</updated><title type='text'>all out of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;as the date draws closer, my heart grows sorer. the many things that were left unsaid will never be said. what really is the truth? i think i will never know. this time many things will be lost and many things will be forgotten. it's like selling yourself. yes, i'm in the midst of selling myself to the future. and all that hope of any tiniest bit will be lost in the memories that will be lost in the past. of which will hardly ever be revisted, will be kept enclosed in the forgotten. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;this time, its like taking a trip to erase all memory. a trip. and maybe thats why everything from the past is filling me up now. you know the way people before they die actually have an overview of their life flashing across them? maybe this is something like what will happen eventually, inevitably. maybe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and like the song goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i'm all out of love&lt;br /&gt;what am i without yu&lt;br /&gt;i know yu were right believing for so long&lt;br /&gt;i'm all out of love&lt;br /&gt;what am i without yu&lt;br /&gt;i can't be too late thinking i was so wrong&lt;br /&gt;oh, what are yu thinking of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5062156888805721869?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5062156888805721869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5062156888805721869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5062156888805721869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5062156888805721869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-out-of-love.html' title='all out of love'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3209235809771860027</id><published>2008-04-19T19:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T19:25:44.289+08:00</updated><title type='text'>forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Those days of love are gone&lt;br /&gt;Our time is through&lt;br /&gt;Still I burn on and on&lt;br /&gt;All of my life&lt;br /&gt;Only for you&lt;br /&gt;From now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until forever&lt;br /&gt;And ever, my darling&lt;br /&gt;Forever&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I shall live&lt;br /&gt;I'll hold you dear ..yeah&lt;br /&gt;And I will reminisce&lt;br /&gt;Of our love all through the years&lt;br /&gt;From now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until forever.....&lt;br /&gt;And ever, my darling&lt;br /&gt;Forever......&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one.....&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you should ever need me&lt;br /&gt;Unfailingly, I will return to your arms&lt;br /&gt;And unburden your heart&lt;br /&gt;And if you should remember&lt;br /&gt;That "we belong together"&lt;br /&gt;Never be ashamed&lt;br /&gt;Call my name&lt;br /&gt;Tell me I'm the one you treasure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever.......&lt;br /&gt;And ever, my darling&lt;br /&gt;Forever&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one&lt;br /&gt;You will always be the only one..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;nothing; just hooked onto this song.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3209235809771860027?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3209235809771860027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3209235809771860027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3209235809771860027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3209235809771860027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/forever.html' title='forever'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2773271357974095854</id><published>2008-04-17T23:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T23:49:47.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>REPLACED BY OTHER PEOPLE'S 'COMMITMENTS'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I FUCKING DO NOT THINK THAT I DID ANYTHING AT ALL TO DESERVE THIS. TO DESERVE BEING SHOUTED AT OR PUSHED AROUND. AND MOST OF ALL TO DESERVE BEING REPLACED BY OTHER PEOPLE'S 'COMMITMENTS'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I HATE BEING IN SECOND PLACE. I HATE BEING A REPLACEMENT. MOST OF ALL. I HATE BEING, I REALLY TRULY DEEPLY FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART HATE BEING SO DAMNED FORGIVING. FOR WHAT? NO GOOD COMES OUT AT THE END OF IT. IS MY GOODNESS RECIPROCATED? NO. THEN WHAT, TELL ME, FOR THE LOVE OF CRIKES, WHAT IS THE DAMNED FUCKING POINT. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2773271357974095854?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2773271357974095854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2773271357974095854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2773271357974095854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2773271357974095854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/replaced-by-other-peoples-commitments.html' title='REPLACED BY OTHER PEOPLE&apos;S &apos;COMMITMENTS&apos;'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3772784182321827198</id><published>2008-04-16T14:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T14:19:03.697+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the girl in the other room</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The girl in the other room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She knows by now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;There's something in all of her fears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Now she wears this thread bare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She sits on the floor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The glass pressed tight to the wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She hears murmurs low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The paper is peeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Her eyes staring straight at the ceiling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Maybe they're there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Or maybe it's nothing at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;As she draws lipstick smears on the wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The girl in the other room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She powders her face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;And stares hard into her reflection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The girl in the other room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She stifles a yawn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Adjusting the strap of her gown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She tosses her tresses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Her lover undresses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Turning the last lamp light down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;What's that voice we're hearing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;We should be sleeping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Could that be someone who's weeping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Maybe she's there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Maybe there's nothing to see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Just a trace of what used to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The girl in the other room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She darkens her lash and blushes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;She seems to look familiar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ps. what are you thinking of when he sprawls kisses down your neck?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3772784182321827198?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3772784182321827198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3772784182321827198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3772784182321827198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3772784182321827198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/girl-in-other-room.html' title='the girl in the other room'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6569460673145508402</id><published>2008-04-15T12:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T13:03:16.249+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you are my baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you are my baby&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my only baby&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you make me happy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when skies are grey&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you never know dear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;how much i love you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;so please don take my baby away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6569460673145508402?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6569460673145508402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6569460673145508402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6569460673145508402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6569460673145508402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/you-are-my-baby.html' title='you are my baby'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-58423722545176890</id><published>2008-04-14T23:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T00:25:42.909+08:00</updated><title type='text'>your heart went missing when she went away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;why is it that when people you love hurt you either physically, mentally or emotionally, you cannot find the space inside you to hate them? why is it that when they do that repeatedly over and over again, you still stay by their side? why is it that people can't seem to find the energy to fight it off against those they love? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;is that why abused husbands or wives still stay with their partners, willing to bear it all in silence? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;what would i do if i were one of them? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;love means going through thick and thin together. it means going through the ups and downs of life holding each others hands. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;having been always hit by belts, hangers and even caned when i was a kid, i never believed in using violence. to me, in order for anyone to call themselves a successful parent, it was when they never had to resort to violence to make a child learn. spare the rod, spoil the child. that's bullshit. relying on this phrase to substantiate one's right to hit a child doesn't make the parent successful at all. i believe that being a successful parent is when one is able to use reason and love to make a child comply to the rights and wrongs, as well as understand the reasons for the rights and wrongs. without the use of any physical, emotional or mental violence. the use of those violence doesn't help in any way; instead it just makes the parenting job easier. just from my own perspective.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;but when it comes to relationships in terms of romance, everything changes. no matter what or when or where or how, you got to be in control of yourself. once you lose the control, you lose yourself. you lose your reputation, your pride, your dignity, your respect. you lose everything. yea, i was a bruised kid, and no i did not get any lenient let offs thou i'm the eldest and thou i'm a girl. so i had in bad. and i'm not afraid, no where near afraid, of being hit. i've learnt how things can be once one loses control of oneself. doesn't have to be in the aspect of violence. but i've learnt. it has to be one of the scariest things that can happen to a person. i know i was never so frightened of myself before. i was thinking how could i have indulged so much emotions, negative emotions in myself and to the extent that i bring it over and cause harm to others, but mostly and mainly to myself? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;that's when you learn from mistakes. in life there aren't many second chances, so when you're given it, you better treasure and cherish it your entire fucking pathetic life. because thats the way it is. it's not easy learning from mistakes, but if it's important, i know i'll put in my utmost effort to make things right. because by doing so, you're repenting. if not, well then, too bad. it's your own loss right, if you don't learn from mistakes. if you don't learn to control yourself. if you don't learn to love yourself more. it's a pretty darned selfish world we're living in, every man for himself. there's no space for too much generosity or goodwill. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;if you really love someone, love will conquer all other emotions. love will conquer hate, anger, hurt, pain and everything else. yes, that is true. but that is only if you still love that someone even after that someone has made you hate, angry, hurt, pain and everything else. and that's when you realise, no one in the world's going to complete your world. your world is out there, cold, cruel, heartless. no one is going to offer empathy. so before anyone ever steps into a relationship? piece of advice, make sure your world's complete first before you step into one. this ensures that your life isn't over without the person. that person that is introduced into your life is someone you can live without, just that you will find that you want to live with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;ps. if love can't stop the anger, it isn't love at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;pps. your heart went missing when she went away. and till today it never came back. go find her again. it's where your heart belongs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;my heart got broken today into a gazillion number of pieces. but life goes on. and so will i. like i said. its a cold cruel heartless world out there. and no one's going to offer any empathy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-58423722545176890?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/58423722545176890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=58423722545176890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/58423722545176890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/58423722545176890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/your-heart-went-missing-when-she-went.html' title='your heart went missing when she went away'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2138281054109938443</id><published>2008-04-11T00:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:30:32.635+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this is all about someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i got the link. i pushed my pile of work aside. and started reading. entry after entry after entry. and i  did so till i finished everything there was to read. only to find a need in reading them all over again. as i read, i cried. and cried uncontrollably as every word hit me, pushing me back in time, bringing the fading memories closer to my mind, to my heart. yet surprisingly, these tears that i cried were not those of heartbreak, instead, they were tears of missing someone. it's when you miss someone terribly and refuse to commit and submit yourself to those feelings, only to have it knock you hard and when it happens, you just lose all control. what i thought could be left to be dealt in a rational manner turned out to be more than i could handle. i never really ever cried over that person before. but those few times which i did, i found the tears dropping in surprise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;when you are so used to having someone around for you all the time, and you have to force yourself to make that someone disappear. it's probably the hardest thing in the world to do. and it is probably the most hurting thing in the world to do. but it has to be done, nonetheless. espeacially when you know or feel that there is even the smallest possibility that you may be using that person as a substitute or someone to share your sadness and anger but not your happiness. i used to share everything with this person. till i began realising i only began calling when i was angry and sad. then i knew i had to stop. taking a person for granted is the worst thing to do to someone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;when i had those memories being refreshed in writing, writing so clear and closely depicted for me, at least, it felt as if nothing ever changed. for those few minutes, i just stayed and immersed myself into the past. for those few minutes, my heart, mind, energy went back to when we were a few years back. when we were happy. when we had our calamari rings and chicken rice. when we loved tanning and sakae sushi. when we had sunflowers and crazy morning bus rides...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;but then after everything that we have been through, i'm looking at what's in front. from the bottom of my heart, all i want is to know that happiness is found again. true happiness. i believe it can be found. i'd capture that heartfelt smile anytime, anywhere, if just for one more time. just to know it's still there. and this time, i'll keep it for life; so anytime i know it is needed, i can retrieve it back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;this is all about someone i know so well, inside out, outside in, upside down, downside up. someone i thought i knew. someone i keep telling myself i know but maybe, i don't really know. someone i've always wanted to know. someone i never want to stop knowing. someone who i know deep down may feel exactly what i'm feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ps. everything's changed yet everything's still the same. just like that night at gelare. exactly like that night.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2138281054109938443?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2138281054109938443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2138281054109938443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2138281054109938443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2138281054109938443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/this-is-all-about-someone.html' title='this is all about someone'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3358796185677770250</id><published>2008-04-09T23:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T23:13:36.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>kiss me</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;kiss me, beneath the milky twilight; leave me, out on a moonlit floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3358796185677770250?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3358796185677770250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3358796185677770250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3358796185677770250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3358796185677770250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/kiss-me.html' title='kiss me'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3584520458762365025</id><published>2008-04-06T16:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T17:05:08.028+08:00</updated><title type='text'>run</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;what does one do when one cannot concentrate? run? . maybe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;okay. bye. i'm off to run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. recently i was put to the test by someone. at first i didn't think much of it. now i'm pretty irked by it. really disgusted by the entire idea. whatevers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;cheryl, howan, guan -- thanks for the most wonderful night a girl cld have esp when she's supposed to be mugging. love. and don't forget our "educational" trip to the tanjong pagar clubs and those at bangkok! tsk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ahmad -- yes yes. seesha. see remembered. love. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;eejin -- really appreciate ur help that night man. owe u one. thanks a mil. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;why do you judge me when you don't know ANYTHING about me? it doesn't make you any cooler or more interesting you know? it just makes you look so wrong and stupid and narrow when you actually make so many errors in your judgement which you speak so confidently as truths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3584520458762365025?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3584520458762365025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3584520458762365025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3584520458762365025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3584520458762365025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/run.html' title='run'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4368180794368924188</id><published>2008-04-02T21:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T21:49:03.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'>miss rciy</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;i miss rciy on fridays. ):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;happy ((: birthday tee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4368180794368924188?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4368180794368924188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4368180794368924188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4368180794368924188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4368180794368924188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/04/miss-rciy.html' title='miss rciy'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3822941908381784563</id><published>2008-03-30T18:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T18:17:03.554+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FUCK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i hate it when people always think they know sth but acty they don't no anything. act like they know till they realise oh shit. wrong. wtf la. thanks for that UNNECESSARY extra waiting time. stop whining when im angry cos i already warned that i am. and if you were just a tide bit smarter and wanted the arguments to stop you wldnt have pissed me off even more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I HATE IT MORE WHEN PPL COMPLAIN ABT ME EATING EXPENSIVE FOOD. I SO DAMNED LOVE EATING AT GOOD PLACES W GOOD FOOD EVEN THO ITS EXPENSIVE. SO THERE. I LIKE PANCAKES AND WAFFLES AND SAUSAGES FOR BREAKFAST WITH JUICE. I LIKE IT. SO THERE. SHIT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3822941908381784563?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3822941908381784563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3822941908381784563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3822941908381784563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3822941908381784563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/fuck.html' title='FUCK'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-7630601162288289470</id><published>2008-03-30T12:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T12:53:06.665+08:00</updated><title type='text'>regrets</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i miss the times when i had someone who just wanted me to be happy on top of everything else. i miss the times when i didn't have to fight for my own happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i am so so so so darned miserable. i am so filled with regrets. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;HELLO PPL. I AM DOING INTERVIEWS FOR PERFECT BOYFRIENDS. NOT PERFECT PEOPLE. I ALREADY FOUND OUT THAT PERFECT PEOPLE DO NOT HAVE ANY IDEA HOW TO NOT BE PERFECT. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;PEOPLE NEED TO BE FLAWED. PERFECT PEOPLE ARE JUST SO WRONG. BOYFRIENDS NEED TO BE PERFECT. FLAWED BOYFRIENDS ARE JUST SO WORSE THAN WRONG.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7630601162288289470?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7630601162288289470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7630601162288289470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7630601162288289470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7630601162288289470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/regrets.html' title='regrets'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8916835889282644317</id><published>2008-03-28T13:51:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:42:16.229+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my favourite people</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Favourite People : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182674795958575314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="211" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yPRJd7INI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iI8uFDfAAN8/s320/01122007.jpg" width="297" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Max. The MOST Handsome retriever in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yOWJd7IMI/AAAAAAAAADs/y4xYUISDI1Y/s1600-h/17022008(001).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182673782346293442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yOWJd7IMI/AAAAAAAAADs/y4xYUISDI1Y/s320/17022008(001).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Andrea. The HOTTEST chic in a club.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yM2Zd7ILI/AAAAAAAAADk/BtDK6lROyK8/s1600-h/22032008(001).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182672137373819058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yM2Zd7ILI/AAAAAAAAADk/BtDK6lROyK8/s320/22032008(001).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Steph. The MOST LOVABLE girl in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yLqpd7IKI/AAAAAAAAADc/u6lTkTbOA2o/s1600-h/30122007(001).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182670835998728354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yLqpd7IKI/AAAAAAAAADc/u6lTkTbOA2o/s320/30122007(001).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; Cherry. The BRIGHTEST snauchzer in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yJa5d7IJI/AAAAAAAAADU/MbwD74xAeyo/s1600-h/04012008(002).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182668366392533138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yJa5d7IJI/AAAAAAAAADU/MbwD74xAeyo/s320/04012008(002).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;DAOSHAN. The BESTEST BESTFRIEND in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yIspd7III/AAAAAAAAADM/wBLEacjnaKg/s1600-h/17022008020_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182667571823583362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yIspd7III/AAAAAAAAADM/wBLEacjnaKg/s320/17022008020_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; Yean Lih. The UGLIEST frog who turned into the MOST CHARMING prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/32623781-8916835889282644317?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8916835889282644317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8916835889282644317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8916835889282644317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8916835889282644317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-favourite-people.html' title='my favourite people'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R-yPRJd7INI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iI8uFDfAAN8/s72-c/01122007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-4470678334996353281</id><published>2008-03-26T00:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T00:15:21.857+08:00</updated><title type='text'>only him</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;overwhelmed with emotions. my only wish now is something he knows even without me telling him. only him. because he knows me better than anyone else in the whole wide world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4470678334996353281?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4470678334996353281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4470678334996353281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4470678334996353281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4470678334996353281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/only-him.html' title='only him'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2552428743848353837</id><published>2008-03-25T20:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T20:47:51.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'>non-existent</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;mentally exhausted, emotionally drained, physically non-existent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2552428743848353837?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2552428743848353837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2552428743848353837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2552428743848353837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2552428743848353837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/non-existent.html' title='non-existent'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6707790609024748615</id><published>2008-03-24T21:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T21:51:28.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;have you ever wondered when life has finally gotten the better of you? i have. i feel like i am completely not in control of myself. i feel like i am submitting myself to whatever comes and not making any effort to change anything despite knowing the consequences. and right now, i feel like one of those kinds of people i despise. not in any favour to complain but i do feel like. who do i turn to if i just feel like ranting all out? i know my best friend's always going to be around. no matter what. and i sometimes do feel like turning to him. and sometimes i do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;but then there are other times when i feel like he isn't the one i want to turn to. sometimes i feel like turning to you. but do you know that it is so hard to? do you find that sad? because i do. i hear your voice but can you read my eyes? because i don't know how in any verbal way, can i let you know how i feel. you have never ever before whispered sweet nothings. because you have never heard them before, have you? i keep thinking of you as my best friend. i keep thinking that you are going to let me shout when i am irritated and think that you will not be angry. i keep thinking that it is okay to hurl vulgarities at you when i am angry and you will not matter at all. i keep thinking of you as who you aren't. and it has come to a point where it is so difficult for me to change these thoughts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;you have changed my life in a way you could have never imagined. and everything about that from then on made you look so perfect to me. but because i think you are so perfect, i feel unable to rise to the status which you want me to. its incomparable. incomparable to you. and to HER. and it is so hard for me to live up to the status. sometimes when the spot gets so tight, i just want to run from you. do you know? it scares me how people can be so perfect. it scares me how when i see perfect people, i feel nothing of myself. it makes me feel worthless. do you know? because if you say you do know, then you must be very cold-hearted. for even though you know, you do not show any empathy at all. nothing. all i feel is emptiness. and to tell you all these, to hear what you have to say; that's when i feel so useless in every way. they say you should support each other no matter what through thick and thin right? but we don't support each other. at all. you can't say you do when i don't feel anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;it's the way you make me feel a whole new degree of worst when i am already feeling the worst. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;p.s. why then, do i still see you as perfect?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6707790609024748615?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6707790609024748615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6707790609024748615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6707790609024748615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6707790609024748615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/perfect.html' title='perfect'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4722073805486077577</id><published>2008-03-21T23:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T23:09:34.939+08:00</updated><title type='text'>to go or not to go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i am thinking. pondering. wondering. TO GO OR NOT TO GO? TO TRY OR NOT TO TRY? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so what is stopping me? e fact that i have to go alone and that i may not make it and that i may not have the cut for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;what is not stopping me? it's a new challenge and i have a passion for it and i miss the stage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;AHHHHHHHH! SO TO GO OR NOT TO GO? TO TRY OR NOT TO TRY? THAT IARE THE QUESTIONS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;okays. i shall update.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4722073805486077577?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4722073805486077577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4722073805486077577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4722073805486077577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4722073805486077577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/to-go-or-not-to-go.html' title='to go or not to go'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6750212200630122848</id><published>2008-03-20T11:01:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T11:27:37.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>girls</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i'm not a girls girl. i don't have many girl friends. you know. i'm like belle/hannah in secret diary of a call girl. no, not the call girl part but in the fact that we both lack good girl friends. i don't know. it's just weird. girls, in general. and i know that i'm a girl; but i wonder if i ever behave like how i view girls to be. or maybe i haven't found that group of girls yet. to me, it's either the group's too nerdy, too cheena, too cool, too act cool, too kawaii, too bimbo, too everything except for the ones i'm looking for. AHHHHS. and i'm a girl who prefers hanging out with guys. my best friend's a guy. gimme a break. he knows me better than anyone else in the world. currently. and they do listen. (girls are a tide bit more self absorbed -- i know i am) if they are not too interested in the gaming or the electronic gadgets. and they care. at least those guy friends of mine. and they're funny! they make me laugh. and just because i hang out alot with them, doesn't give anyone the right to say i flirt around. right? i mean c'mon. i'm very happy with MY ONE AND ONLY BOOGIE BOOGIE BABY! ((((((: and i really don't like the fact other girls associate going out with alot of different guys as flirting or whatsoever. i mean thats completely narrow and they're completely jealous of me. well hahs? then they start spreading rumours about me. and there's actually one specific person who went around telling other guys that about me! omg. thats how loser. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so this is directed specifically to her: well too bad, and attribute that to you aren't being as pretty as me, aren't as sociable as me, aren't as smart as me, aren't as nice as me, aren't as colloquail as me and so on. so listen hard and listen well. don't go spreading rumours about me. because it doesn't improve your image or reputation at all. if you can do the rumouring about one person, you can do the rumouring about any person. no one's gonna want to be your friend right? i'll be praying for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and it is so not true that i don't have any girl friends AT ALL. there's steph. and she's my sister. and she's my friend. and she's my someone. and she's my person. my only girl person. so she's booked pple. and so am i. and she's the best. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;anyways, today is holy thursday. tomorrow is good friday. then vigil saturday and easter sunday. pray well all of you out there! (((: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p.s. freaks are excluded from this okays. plus, we do have a few guys in our clique. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p.p.s. do you know that chupa chups carry their own line of perfume. and it totally smells good. (((: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6750212200630122848?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6750212200630122848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6750212200630122848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6750212200630122848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6750212200630122848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/girls.html' title='girls'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4739409130052898316</id><published>2008-03-16T17:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T17:56:40.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>DRINKS, CIGS AND SEX</title><content type='html'>FINE. OKAY. FINE. OKAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WANT TO GO SWIMMING. FINE. OKAY. UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE PEOPLE WHO SIGH. I HATE I HATE I HATE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHEERS TO THE STUPID DARNED WORLD, LETS HAVE NEW WORLD WITH DRINKS, CIGS AND SEX. THOSE ARE DEFINITELY THE 3 SANE THINGS IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4739409130052898316?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4739409130052898316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4739409130052898316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4739409130052898316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4739409130052898316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/drinks-cigs-and-sex.html' title='DRINKS, CIGS AND SEX'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5228229347823239738</id><published>2008-03-16T14:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T14:52:24.852+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sad aura</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;a really close friend of mine once recently told me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;"everytime i go to your house, i always feel a very sad aura around."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;i second, third, fourth, fifth and so on that statement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5228229347823239738?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5228229347823239738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5228229347823239738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5228229347823239738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5228229347823239738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/sad-aura.html' title='sad aura'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6153404968579701597</id><published>2008-03-14T00:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T01:13:28.565+08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ONE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i think THE ONE is one that is very different from any of the guys that i have previously dated, so much so i find it very hard to be comfortable with him. but i believe that the love he has for me will be enough for me to gradually be opening up to him. he may be hot, cute, smells good, can cook, fit, loving, caring, understanding etc. but he may also be so many things else that causes misunderstandings or conflicts between me and him. he can be the one of whom i can snuggle with doing nothing at all for the entire day, talking nonsense, laughing at everything and nothing at all. but he can also be the one of whom i can lie next to and feel the most intense pain in the world because i know he's there but i don't feel him around. and that only happens when i no longer feel love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i think he is the one that i feel is emotionally unattached to me, but also the one i know is emotionally wholeheartedly dedicated to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i think maybe, just maybe, i don't understand him sometimes. but those times doesn't mean that he doesn't love me. he just loves me in his own way, with the best of his ability at that time. and sometimes there are so many unsaid words but perhaps it is okay to leave it as such. maybe even better to leave it as such. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. you know when you are in love when you dream about the person when you sleep and think about the person when you are awake all the time. and reality is so much better than the dreams just because you know it's real. that's when you search for his hand in the middle of the night and he holds on to it tightly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6153404968579701597?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6153404968579701597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6153404968579701597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6153404968579701597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6153404968579701597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/one.html' title='THE ONE'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-7614337576896672494</id><published>2008-03-13T03:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T03:18:48.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>killing me softly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;my heart is breaking. i am yearning for someone to love me. the pain is sucking me dry. have you ever felt the pain before. it's far worse than any pain in the world. keep asking me to tell them why i'm crying or why the tears or why i'm feeling so down. i don't know how to answer. i have no answer. but my heart is breaking. with every second and every tear, it breaks some more, little by little. and the tears won't stop. and no one is around. have you ever felt so empty? have you ever had someone sleep around you but you can't even feel the person's presence? the pain that is felt you will never imagine how bad that can be. the pain is killing me. my heart is breaking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;you don't even have to say anything to make me feel so painful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;killing me softly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7614337576896672494?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7614337576896672494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7614337576896672494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7614337576896672494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7614337576896672494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/killing-me-softly.html' title='killing me softly'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5697171202614303527</id><published>2008-03-12T01:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T01:23:04.717+08:00</updated><title type='text'>insecurity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i can't help but think about her. do you know i'm thinking about you? and i barely saw you for like a minute. but you're hooked on my mind. you're gorgeous. do you know? you make me confused without even saying a word to me. this is how you affect me. and i'm letting you affect me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. i wonder sometimes if he still likes her. insecurity gets to me. finally right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5697171202614303527?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5697171202614303527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5697171202614303527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5697171202614303527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5697171202614303527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/insecurity.html' title='insecurity'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2468487700783418566</id><published>2008-03-09T23:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T00:01:36.811+08:00</updated><title type='text'>chances</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;my cousin once told me she wouldn't get a blog cause she didn't know who to blog to or who was reading it, had to be someone she trusted. and here i am typing it all out. to who? sometimes that crosses my mind. am even writing it out for anyone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;what is next for me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i saw the most bastardly person in the world today trying to cheat another girl's heart. but then i'm pausing here again. what if he's a changed person? and i'm not giving him or myself another chance to repent? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;but i still believe chances come and go. and there's a limit to it. if you just happen to use your chances all up. then you gotta try making it up double.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2468487700783418566?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2468487700783418566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2468487700783418566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2468487700783418566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2468487700783418566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/chances.html' title='chances'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6125296618088717316</id><published>2008-03-09T11:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T12:22:28.034+08:00</updated><title type='text'>she is perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i've never seen anyone as gorgeous as her. she's the real pretty princess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;she is perfect.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. i have never felt so inferior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;for abyy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Talk to me softly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;There's something in your eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Don't hang your head in sorrow &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And please don't cry &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;I know how you feel inside I've &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;I've been there before &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Somethin's changin' inside you&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And don't you know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Don't you cry tonight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I still love you baby&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Don't you cry tonight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Don't you cry tonight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;There's a heaven above you baby &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And don't you cry tonight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Give me a whisper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And give me a sign &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;Give me a kiss before you tell me goodbye &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Don't you take it so hard now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And please don't take it so bad &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;I'll still be thinkin' of you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;And the times we had...baby &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And please remember that I never lied &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And please remember how I felt inside now honey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;You gotta make it your own way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;But you'll be allright now sugar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You'll feel better tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come the morning light now baby&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6125296618088717316?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6125296618088717316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6125296618088717316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6125296618088717316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6125296618088717316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/she-is-perfect.html' title='she is perfect'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3424704113546069544</id><published>2008-03-06T23:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T23:35:44.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>jekyll &amp; hyde. you're beautiful.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i wonder sometimes if it's okay for him to be seen outside with me. no, make that alot of times. everyone has their doubts one way or another. no one can be all that good and go without flaws. yes, i do believe that it's a two way street all of us share; with a jekyll &amp;amp; hyde in each one of us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so will you still love me when im jekyll? how about when im hyde? and what if im both and none at the same time? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;do you even know what i'm talking about? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p.s. every week without fail. all i can do is watch. see. you're beautiful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3424704113546069544?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3424704113546069544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3424704113546069544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3424704113546069544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3424704113546069544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/jekyll-hyde-youre-beautiful.html' title='jekyll &amp; hyde. you&apos;re beautiful.'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8187333133930210270</id><published>2008-03-05T23:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T23:48:17.852+08:00</updated><title type='text'>DRINK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i am so damned tired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;DARLING. SATURDAY NIGHT BRING ME OUT FOR A DRINK. MAKE THAT 2. AND DON'T STOP ME. MUCH LOVE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8187333133930210270?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8187333133930210270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8187333133930210270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8187333133930210270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8187333133930210270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/drink.html' title='DRINK'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5115736103220965911</id><published>2008-03-03T22:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T22:46:42.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i think</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i think it's scary to know a person too well. i think we should let by gones be by gones. i think we should know a person sufficiently. i think i know too much about a person. i think that scares me. i think i won't know what to do. i think i will have to come up with a decision eventually. i think when love is concerned, it is unimaginable when your loved one thinks about something of which you have no idea. i think i don't really want to love. i think love is sucking me out. i think i am stumped at love. i think the more i look, the less i know what to do. i think love is blind. i think i should not look anymore, then maybe i will know what to do. i think i am starting to breathe. i think people think i am crazy now. i think i need to go for jiaying's tour to the strawberry farm in melbourne to eat strawberries. i think my lips would be red enough to kiss. i think i would like to kiss a very nice looking person who will turn out to be super nice and who will fall in love with me. i think then i will want to love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. i am craving for fries now. benjamin has tempted me into wanting alcohol. and we have both agreed on needing a smoke. meet me soon. dammit and don't bring anymore contraband stuffs in or i'll never meet you before you leave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;.oil and water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5115736103220965911?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5115736103220965911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5115736103220965911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5115736103220965911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5115736103220965911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-think.html' title='i think'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3819940978418887014</id><published>2008-03-01T23:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T01:20:59.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'>stop and stare</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;29th febuary 2008. i agreed on to having a change in my life. this change either affects me 1 day in every 4 years. or leaves me be in a sort of 'contract' of which i have to sustain for 4 years. but why am i haunted by it? i am amazed at what happened just now. a small conflict that led me to be on the verge of tears over dinner. i am suddenly swerved back to the past. it's like a shelter to run to when you really are lost and you don't know your directions and it gets cold around you. i don't understand what's going on between me and my feelings. yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;stop and stare. i think i'm moving, but i go no where.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i'm stuck; so stuck and feeling trapped. i feel like i have so much inside of me i have to let out. i need a space to let out my feelings. and now i feel like i can't even blog it out. because my feelings i feel are so close to my heart. i'm so afraid of how i'd feel once i let everything all out. and probably after reading this, everyone's going to be telling me talk to them, and questioning me. but i don't want to be questioned. i don't want people to tell me that they are around and that i can talk to them. because they're are not around. or even if they are i can't bring myself to say anything. that's really one of the last few things i want to hear. i don't want people to ask me why, whats wrong blablabla. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;oh God. i'm feeling really so damned oppressed. it's like when i try to breathe i can't get in enough of whatever i need. God. and i am so damned sad. i don't know. no, i know why. that's why i am so damned sad. but i don't know how to say it out. to anyone or even write it out here. God, my heart aches. and the tears don't help. it's the feeling when my tears come out for no damned reason. it's like being in a swimming pool. and going under water for as long as possible. after awhile i just feel i don't have to come up to breathe. i just want to stay there. cause after coming out for air, the air that's being sucked in is suddenly so much to bear. its the feeling when you can have tears coming out for no reason. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i want it to be the way it is like how i'm used to. i want to cry and then know that it is okay to cry. not like it's weird and have people question me bout my tears and asking if i'm okay or not and go on and on expressing concern of which i have to explain my actions. what if i don't know the reason to it myself? and i have to force myself to come up with one. what if i don't want to mention it cause it's my secret. i have secrets too. i just want them for myself. i don't like explaining myself to people. to anyone for that matter. i want to feel that it is normal. that if i cry, it is okay. just be around. like how they all were and i just didn't know that that was all i needed then. now i know. just be around. and just not say a word. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;someone once said " if you want to be alone, i'll be there and be really quiet so you won't even notice me ". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i know i'm normal. and right now i feel like i am not breathing. i am so clear of why i am so sad. but i don't want to say anything. and i won't. so please don't ask anything. this is a blog i just feel like expressing my feelings now. not the reason for my feelings. and i don't want to be answerable to any of the reasons. just let me be. let me be hurt because i feel like being hurt. let me be sad because i need to know i feel something. let me just cry because i want to be normal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i think i don't know how to say anything out. my feelings are traces of my thoughts which are waiting be cleared from the mess but i can't do it. i can't clear it. i don't want to clear it. i'm sucking in my comfort zone of feeling this mess and this pain. it makes me feel okay. but God. that's the irony of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i can't write anymore. i think. i think i'm starting to spill everything already. i think i can't go on typing. i don't want anyone to know. but oh God. teach me to be happy. how come happiness seems to have a totally different meaning altogether now, to the extent i don't think i actually recognise it anymore. don't pull me out from the whirlpool i've created for myself. knowingly. and unknowingly. yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i'm not ready to move out of the mess. i need more time. oh God. i need a hell lot more time. or maybe not. maybe i just don't want to cross the comfort zone i'm in. i feel the weight with each step i try to take out. i feel the weight of the difference in and out of the whirl. i need to stop. today i realised that i needed to stop. no one will agree with me; but everything's too fast. i can feel everything spinning and i'm falling. and this time there's no safety net at the bottom. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i can't move anymore. i really need to stop. please help me stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stop and stare &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think I'm moving but I go nowhere &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yeah I know that everyone gets scared &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I've become what I can't be, oh &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stop and stare &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You start to wonder why you're 'here' not there &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you'd give anything to get what's fair &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;But fair ain't what you really need &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh, can u see what I see&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3819940978418887014?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3819940978418887014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3819940978418887014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3819940978418887014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3819940978418887014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/03/stop-and-stare.html' title='stop and stare'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6548010367414273246</id><published>2008-02-29T00:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T01:20:20.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'>p/s</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;yesterday it suddenly came upon to me what would happen if he died. and then the tears came so naturally. they say it's okay, not to fear death. maybe we all don't really fear it; we fear how life would be for us if people close to us died. i remember how my grandmother died. and from that day onwards i never wanted to let anyone close to me die. i bought a rose for her; i intend to put it beside her urn. it's a very pretty rose. i don't want him to die. because i wouldn't know what i'd do without him. and then as i thought longer and harder, who's going to be the one there making me smile? it is something like a break up is it not? but at least if it's just a break up, i know i can hope that one day it would be like how it used to be. if he died, would he even know about the million of things i felt and thought about him that i never had the guts to say to him? would he know how much love i have for him, how sorry i am for making him mad, how appreciative i am for all his efforts, how i think his company beats anything else? i want him to know. but im stuck when i have to put all these into words. i just live everyday as if nothing's changed, that everything's just normal. but everything's changed. everyday, everything changes. the way i feel about everything changes within a day. it never stays the same. i can love him so much more within a day. and it could just keep increasing. how can it even be the same? but i want him to know. i don't know how to make him know. i can say all those words over and over again. but the depth those words carry can mean so much more than what he hears. i don't want him to die. i don't want him to ever die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p/s. i would like to trade hearts with you so that you may know how much i feel for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6548010367414273246?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6548010367414273246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6548010367414273246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6548010367414273246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6548010367414273246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/ps.html' title='p/s'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-785475595375760506</id><published>2008-02-23T01:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T01:13:42.647+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mount faber</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;tomorrow when i wake up, mount faber would just be a dream that had seemed to be too real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-785475595375760506?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/785475595375760506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=785475595375760506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/785475595375760506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/785475595375760506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/mount-faber.html' title='mount faber'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4947976517694256479</id><published>2008-02-21T15:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T00:31:28.942+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the best lent</title><content type='html'>let me explain all the names on my nick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lester (lesman) -- for talking to me on msn even though i don't respond. and his doing so makes me smile. esp when i feel like i've got no one around or that i'm very lonely. i know that there's someone around who's willing to listen when i feel down. that he cares. thanks. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daoshan (alan byy) -- for being there when i needed yu, despite yur circumstances. always being there. and knowing exactly how to make me smile. yu bring the smiles on my face naturally. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;joanne -- for suggesting we eat mac breakfast which brought a smile on my face. (: thanks for the listening ear too dear. ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jiaying -- for letting me be distracted by everything else that you suggested we talked about and for making me smile with all your crazy drunk stories. love. ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chris -- for letting me crash your hall, for letting me sleep in and disturb you till late, ffor making me the best MAC &amp;amp; CHEESE ever! for watching juno with me though i know you watched it already. and for sitting at the busstop with me listening to be going crazy. and lastly for always watching over me. always. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eejin -- for sending me home last min in the middle of the night despite having 2 quizzes the next day and listening to my nonsense in the car though they don't make much sense. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;steph lim -- for hearing me out and siding me when i needed to hear that i wasn't alone. thought a short mrt ride, i really felt so much better. thanks. ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;steph megan -- for being the bestest 17 yr old in the whole world. i love you uber muchie sweetie. the most adorable and lovable little kid that i'll always care for with all my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;steph megan's mom -- for the best tom yum soup in the whole wide world. (: thanks auntie. your soup made me forget my worries for awhile. you got it rocking my world! love love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;joseph -- for making me talk about all the great times. (: they were missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;max -- for your phone call that didn't even last a min. you made it worth it. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God -- for letting me know all the above people. without them, i wouldn't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the best lent i've ever experienced.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4947976517694256479?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4947976517694256479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4947976517694256479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4947976517694256479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4947976517694256479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/best-lent.html' title='the best lent'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-7995100021241540886</id><published>2008-02-19T22:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:42:16.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't love you like i loved you yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R7rumiSm8GI/AAAAAAAAADE/VyZOzj3OEAw/s1600-h/heartbroken+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168705868168360034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R7rumiSm8GI/AAAAAAAAADE/VyZOzj3OEAw/s320/heartbroken+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;i don't love you like i loved you yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/32623781-7995100021241540886?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7995100021241540886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7995100021241540886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7995100021241540886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7995100021241540886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-dont-love-you-like-i-used-to.html' title='i don&apos;t love you like i loved you yesterday'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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/_gVWZSp1rqa0/R7rumiSm8GI/AAAAAAAAADE/VyZOzj3OEAw/s72-c/heartbroken+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-3669452399907215382</id><published>2008-02-18T23:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T23:33:42.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you see once in awhile that treasure you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;recently i learnt that in times of need, when you find for someone, those that appear and are present no matter what time it is, or how they themselves are feeling, with or without money, they'll be there for you. they'll appear. then you know who really cares for you. not the ones who spend time hanging out with you and disappearing when you really need someone around; but the ones you see once in awhile that treasure you, those are the ones who make life so much better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;life really is much better when you guys are here. thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3669452399907215382?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3669452399907215382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3669452399907215382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3669452399907215382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3669452399907215382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-see-once-in-awhile-that-treasure.html' title='you see once in awhile that treasure you'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3586121820537361591</id><published>2008-02-17T16:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T16:09:35.688+08:00</updated><title type='text'>yu.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;This is the way yu left me,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not pretending.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No hope, no love, no glory,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No Happy Ending.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the way that we love,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Like it's forever.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then live the rest of our life,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But not together.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life&lt;br /&gt;Can't get no love without sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If anything should happen, I guess I wish yu well&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the hardest story that I've ever told&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No hope, or love, or glory&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy endings gone forever more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel as if I feel as if I'm wasted&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I'm wastin' everyday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 o'clock in the morning, something's on my mind&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't get no rest; keep walkin' around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I pretend that nothin' ever went wrong, I can get to my sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can think that we just carried on&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the hardest story that I've ever told&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No hope, or love, or glory&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy endings gone forever more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel as if I feel as if I'm wasted&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I'm wastin' everyday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3586121820537361591?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3586121820537361591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3586121820537361591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3586121820537361591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3586121820537361591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/yu.html' title='yu.'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2249811981275108453</id><published>2008-02-11T10:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T10:41:41.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'>not about money</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;and those rich acsi boys must be wondering why that hc boy got all their girls. they just don't understand that its not about money, but about sincerity; its not about the sweet talks, but about the sweet efforts; its not about saying it right, but about saying it with love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2249811981275108453?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2249811981275108453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2249811981275108453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2249811981275108453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2249811981275108453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/not-about-money.html' title='not about money'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1800589224296109827</id><published>2008-02-11T01:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T01:08:39.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sore loser.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;valentines day is coming. i am not a valentines day person. now i really sound like a sore loser. oh wells. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;on a lighter note. i have alot o readings. and alot alot alot of readings. why is it even called a holiday? i think the definition of that poor word has been changed drastically. i need a &lt;strong&gt;BREAK&lt;/strong&gt;? without doing a single piece of work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1800589224296109827?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1800589224296109827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1800589224296109827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1800589224296109827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1800589224296109827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/sore-loser.html' title='sore loser.'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5792781959989863149</id><published>2008-02-03T12:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T13:23:19.184+08:00</updated><title type='text'>annoyed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;to those of which this blog entry is concerned :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;at this point of time when im typing all these down, i am annoyed. honestly, fully annoyed. and you guys should definitely know why. i think that the whole process of deciding whether you want to go for an event is simple. you say yes only after you learn what exactly is happening on the day itself. and please don't give me crap like it's last minute and you suddenly got to change your plans and cancel the attendance. it's &lt;strong&gt;your responsibility&lt;/strong&gt; in the first place to check your schedule before you make a commitment to an event. and if you can't even do such a simple task, i really don't have anything to say to you. i gave information a week ago and you guys had 7 days to decide. after giving me the answer on friday night, you guys still had saturday to change your mind. but its crazy right, to tell me things like oh last minute gathering or last minute reunion dinner. what kind of bullshit is that. YES IM ANNOYED AND THUS IM BITCHY RIGHT NOW. as if everyone has to SUDDENLY change their plans if they had any, to accomodate for the dinner. and the worst thing? it's not like you guys are in secondary school anymore. yet you can't even give and sustain such a simple answer or plan out your dates/schedule well. basic courtesy people. where's that gone to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5792781959989863149?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5792781959989863149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5792781959989863149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5792781959989863149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5792781959989863149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/annoyed.html' title='annoyed.'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1661939922729329300</id><published>2008-02-02T01:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T01:44:26.977+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Cor. 13.4-8</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;what's it like to have missed it? what's it like to make a choice and then think you're so sure you've made the right choice at that point of time; only to second guess yourself after awhile? if anyone knows what i mean. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;i was hugging my big elmo that night and then tears just came to my eyes. it was so sudden and unexpected on my part and then i just sat there with my elmo crying for a good 5 mintues or so. just to let it all out. yea, i still carry bits of the past here and there. i was thinking of how elmo was holding that big yellow sunflower on my swing. so i had made a choice. but how am i to know if it's a right one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;i turned my back on someone who was really quite a good friend. but i can still remember the time, and churching. it was almost just like yesterday. everything was all good. if it wasn't the wrong person, it was the wrong time. someone for keepsake. so there again another choice? how is it a good or right one too?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;i didn't give myself and somebody else a chance to make friends. and that someone did try. i just didn't even try to be nice. i was an outright mean evil cruel bitch. and i hurt people's feelings. was it all worth it? what was i doing it for? did i even truly want to do it? now that i regret it do i feel happier or better in any way? i've judged people i don't even know. and from my own selfish judgements have in turned lost a potential friend. now even if i try to make up for it, the past is still always there. i'd look so fake. i'd spoil something else thats blooming within other people and creating conflict. so i'm not going to do anything about it. adding on another choice i made, hows it going to be for the better? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;i'm really a selfish person. and this selfishness has made me so cold, without compassion. and at this point from all these reflection, i've lost myself and who i was. how can you ever change the past, how can you ever look to the future to think which are the better and right chocies to make? indeed, how do i love in any and every aspect if i am so filled with selfishness? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;a quote max gave me tonight which suddenly i'm seeking for strength in:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Love is patient and kind; it is not jealous or conceited or proud; &lt;strong&gt;love is not&lt;/strong&gt; ill-mannered or &lt;strong&gt;selfish&lt;/strong&gt; or irritable; love does not keep a record of wrongs; love is not happy with evil; but is happy with the truth. Love never gives up; and its faith, hope, and patience never fail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is eternal.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;1 Cor. 13.4-8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1661939922729329300?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1661939922729329300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1661939922729329300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1661939922729329300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1661939922729329300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/02/1-cor-134-8.html' title='1 Cor. 13.4-8'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6738828014285002249</id><published>2008-01-30T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T23:14:54.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wish list</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;hahahs. this post is specifically for SOMEBODY. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;my wish list. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. pumps frm marina sq ($40)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. vintage tees frm marina sq (2 for $26)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. concealer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. lingerie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so far for now. ((:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6738828014285002249?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6738828014285002249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6738828014285002249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6738828014285002249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6738828014285002249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/wish-list.html' title='wish list'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1618794068530132108</id><published>2008-01-28T23:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T00:01:27.352+08:00</updated><title type='text'>let it all go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;i've let it all go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;and i'll miss you when you go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;just think of us sometimes okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;don't forget the tears and laughter and everything we shared from a long time ago.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1618794068530132108?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1618794068530132108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1618794068530132108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1618794068530132108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1618794068530132108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/let-it-all-go.html' title='let it all go'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3494889084115029999</id><published>2008-01-27T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T23:38:00.937+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and if yu ever fall in love again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;The very first time that I saw yur brown eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yur lips said hello and I said hi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;I knew right then yu were the one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;But I was caught up in physical attraction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;But to my satisfaction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Baby yu were more than just a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;If I said that I would be yur one and only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Promise that yu'd never leave me lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;I just want to be the one yu need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;I just want to be the one to serve yu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Sometimes I feel as if I don't deserve yu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;I cherish every moment that we share&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And if yu ever fall in love again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu must be sure that the lady is a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And if yu ever fall in love so true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu must be sure that she feels the same way too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3494889084115029999?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3494889084115029999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3494889084115029999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3494889084115029999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3494889084115029999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-if-yu-ever-fall-in-love-again.html' title='and if yu ever fall in love again'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8181224779633864728</id><published>2008-01-21T23:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T23:47:26.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CLEANED UP MY ROOM</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;today i did one of the most incredible thing ever. well, okay. at least for the past one year. anyways, I CLEANED UP MY ROOM. like woooo! hahas. figured i had to do it for CNY; and well, since tutorials have yet to start, guess it was a good time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;anyways, i thought i did more than just the normal cleaning. i finally got rid of things -- of the past. of all the old diaries i used to write my deepest thoughts in. and surprisingly it was pretty easy to get rid of them. just a few flip of pages here and there to read up abit on the different stages of my life.. some stuffs were pretty embarrassing. hahahs. and the things i wrote last time were omg so darned weird. i think i was a weird kid, growing up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8181224779633864728?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8181224779633864728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8181224779633864728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8181224779633864728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8181224779633864728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/cleaned-up-my-room.html' title='CLEANED UP MY ROOM'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4180253624077883939</id><published>2008-01-19T02:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T02:53:49.682+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't feel anything</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i cry to make myself feel. i cry so i know at least my heart's still around. i cry so i'll still feel human and alive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;but now. now i don't feel anything anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4180253624077883939?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4180253624077883939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4180253624077883939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4180253624077883939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4180253624077883939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/dont-feel-anything.html' title='don&apos;t feel anything'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-7689031658106846751</id><published>2008-01-17T23:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T23:53:06.847+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking angry. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fuckng sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fuckng sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad. i am fucking sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7689031658106846751?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7689031658106846751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7689031658106846751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7689031658106846751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7689031658106846751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/fuck.html' title='fuck'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-7531344377246773979</id><published>2008-01-17T22:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T22:38:57.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'>judge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;when someone judges me unjustly, the world to me, comes to a complete stop. i feel like i cannot breathe. i feel the insanity of it all when the thoughts in my mind swirl like a hurricane, almost never-ending like. i look at the person and the person no longer feels like a person to me. its as if there's a huge piece of meat there and i just want to take a big chopping knife and smash it till its totally flat. the violent thoughts almost consume me fully and i feel the whole world's spinning in front of me. have you ever had that feeling when you are standing still and then everything around you moves. it turns and turns and you cant seem to walk anywhere because everything's spinning so far that its terrifying to even try to move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and then it was bossy. i think whoever called me that has no right to say that of me. lets put things this way. if you'd take more initiative, i wouldn't have to ask and tell you to do things. then you wouldn't think me as bossy. i do like guys who can dance. i do like them. i think them as refined creatures. and i do like to cook too. i would love to cook for the person i love with all my heart and soul. its just a pity you don't seem to know anything about me. and you leave me with one judgement too many. i am pained and hurt. because you're someone whom i feel is an important person to me. but then again, who am i to you; that you get to hurt with words time again. maybe just someone whom you feels treats you like shit? you look down upon dancing, you'd rather learn a sport. but don't you feel like you're living in your own small world? you don't even want to try. then you can never feel the fairytale dancing brings you to. everyone can dance. its a matter of whether they have the courage to or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;im seeking comfort, love and someone to give me the security i need when i cry. im thirsting for all that. just someone, come flood me with them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;p/s. i know yu'd do it if i allowed yu to. i know what yu'd do if i allowed yu to. i know yu know me inside out, outside in. i know yu're special. whisk me away to the dance floor and lead me on to one more dance. because yu know its right there and then when the magic begins and fades. yu don't read me. yu feel me. yu know me like no one else does. but after everything.. chances stop at one. i'd have begged yu not to go a long time ago. but now, yu should go. and be happy by yurself. i know yu can do it. and remember i'll still be here to share in yur happiness. but right now, if it makes it all come to an end, i'm still longing for that same comfort, yur comfort. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7531344377246773979?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7531344377246773979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7531344377246773979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7531344377246773979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7531344377246773979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/judge.html' title='judge'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1636545494532403564</id><published>2008-01-16T00:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T00:52:45.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;it was eejin's birthday yesterday so we all took a trip down to his place to celebrate with him. it was a happy occasion. made friends, forged better bonds. and as usual, i learnt alot. tee really helped in my process. sometimes he asked about my experiences in corespondence to his 3 daughters. he's a really good father and a super thoughtful husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;with each of his questions, however, i unknowingly learn more about myself. i know more about my family as well. some things you refuse to acknowledge your whole life suddenly comes to you through a simple question and you start wondering why you wont acknowledge it. anyways, whatever it is, all these small gatherings really make a whole lot of difference in my life -- in their own small ways. its as if its God's way of coming through me with a whole new batch of people who are older than me, yet close to my age. like a guiding point, or a stepping stone to look toward the future. tee says im 'conservative' towards the relationship sector. i say i've grown up. i mean, everyone knows how wild it used to be. but i guess its just a phase many of us go through; most likely because everyone's just still trying to find their identity and placing in the world. till you get pretty much tired of it. then perhaps thats when you just wanna grow up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and i suppose i'm lucky. i'm lucky to have met that someone who was willing, still is, and i think and pray and hope will always be around to watch me grow up, grow up with me, and hate growing up altogether with. that someone who always gives me to opportunity to make mistakes and never make too much fuss about it yet always forgives me for them all. they say girls will tend to find guys who resemble their father. maybe thats why i find myself so attached to this person. because he's just like daddy. just that of course i still feel more secured with daddy around and thank God daddy's so damned open minded about everything. so i'm happy. i'm happy with these two people in my life which i constantly pray for and thank God for. they're so much blessings and so much love that He has given me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;some stuff happened today which made me ponder alot. questioned my understanding of certain aspects. pulled all my doubts out of the box. and finally made everything so clear to me. it's like how it rains nonstop for the entire day and it goes on and on for hours till it finally, suddenly, stops. and it's a clear day already. as if no rain at all on a lovely sunny day. and life still goes on as it always does. and it's the people who stick by you no matter what. they're family. rciy is family. my own family at home is family. and then i realise anyone can be family as long as they accept you and love you wholeheartedly for who you are, forgive your flaws and stand by you no matter what, under any circumstances.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;that someone stuck by me -- all that research to understand everything and provide so much comfort for me showed it all. happiness was all that mattered and i know the effort. i'm showered with so much love that it has made my life so much more beautiful. and happy. i am happy. it isn't easy to feel happy. but i am happy. right now. thank you. for making me feel so beautiful and happy. and filling my life with hope and smiles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1636545494532403564?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1636545494532403564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1636545494532403564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1636545494532403564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1636545494532403564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/that-someone.html' title='that someone'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1926741254421413507</id><published>2008-01-08T20:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T21:05:59.877+08:00</updated><title type='text'>shout outs</title><content type='html'>i'm glad i'm going back to rciy. i'm even more glad for alicia's wedding. and that one bbq we had at jessie's place. to me, those incidents were more than just what it seemed. it was like i had a calling to go back there. and would be okay. and fine. and that nothing would go wrong. nothing could go wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here i am typing happily or so i create a fantastic delusion to make me believe i'm happily typing here. here's some shout outs to certain people. been awhile since i've done it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;steph -- hey babes. it's anything for you. you know that. you're just like the little kid we love. and we always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ada -- hello you. it's great having you back. must update more often okay! hahahas. ((: all the best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lucas -- you've been missed. i'm hoping to see you on friday. hahahs. it's gonna be a good session. even better with you around. grins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gramps -- congratulations! come back with many pictures okay!  ((((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rod -- be good la you. don't stay up too late doing 'GIFTS' with the GIRL. hahhahs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rciy -- hey guys. i've missed you guys. do come back often ok. rmb the great times we used to have. let's try to continue it. being a family's bout being close to one another. just once a week try to come over and hang out kays. love ya'll alot. really. thanks for being around during the ups and downs. it's been great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1926741254421413507?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1926741254421413507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1926741254421413507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1926741254421413507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1926741254421413507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/shout-outs.html' title='shout outs'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-29626140356903315</id><published>2008-01-07T01:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T01:43:26.722+08:00</updated><title type='text'>really painful</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;this time it's really painful.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-29626140356903315?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/29626140356903315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=29626140356903315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/29626140356903315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/29626140356903315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/really-painful.html' title='really painful'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4090370271965189033</id><published>2008-01-07T00:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T00:57:49.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't want to fucking stop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;congratulations to alicia grandma and ah how grandpa. (: may you enjoy a lifelong duration of lovey doveyness. ((((: amazing wedding. thank you for invites! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;how do you know if the one you love is really the one? its so difficult is it not? or maybe it's so simple. maybe it's right in front of your eyes and you just have no idea because you always think of love to be so complicated when it actually is so simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;or maybe i just don't want to put in anything more than what i'm putting in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;he makes me cry. but when i cry, i don't hurt. i don't even know why i cry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i've packed up and i'm ready to leave. tag me so i can start running away. round and round and round. just like how the carousal spins. and this time i don't want to fucking stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4090370271965189033?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4090370271965189033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4090370271965189033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4090370271965189033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4090370271965189033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/dont-want-to-fucking-stop.html' title='don&apos;t want to fucking stop'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6525752434219923034</id><published>2008-01-05T00:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T02:28:43.391+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;whats your take on standing in front of everyone and telling the entire world you're in love with this guy or girl you love. embarrassed? shy off? happy? when i got asked back, i said i'd do it willingly. now when i think about it, i'm not sure. i'm not sure about what i'm not sure about. is it because i don't know if i love the person enough? when's enough, enough? or is it because i'm really shy about the whole world knowing about me and my love? but if i really love someone, i'd really want the entire world to know i love that person right? because i want to show off that person to the entire world. and because i want everyone to know how blessed and happy i feel right? should it be that case? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;or maybe i just don't understand. if you hold someone's hand as you sleep, and as you share your hopes and dreams with a someone, or if you kiss someone with so much love and passion, or if you proclaim to the entire world that he or she is your girl or boyfriend and someone who is potentially the love of your life, the one you will spend your life with, grow old in sickness and health, how exactly can you be embarrassed? maybe it's disappointing hearing such statements from different people. embarrassed because one isn't the kind of person to do it? but love changes everything. love makes you do the impossible. love makes you blind. love makes you do so much than you imagined you could. love gives you the strength to be much more than you are, love makes you be the best person you could be. so how can anyone be ashamed of love? how can anyone be embarrassed of love? it's hurting to know that people aren't ready to announce out loud and in joy that they have found love with each other. it is so hard itself to find someone to love from the bottom of your heart, someone you want to simply be with all the time. and when they find each other, they refuse to acknowledge or shout out or celebrate at all? it feels so sad. it makes me feel so sad. it makes me question the simple meaning of love. it makes me double up my thoughts which i held so strongly, or used to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and if that's the case, why is it i'm not sure if i'm willing to do such a simple thing? why do i still have some sort of hesitation? because i know the other person won't do it? or because i may not be really so deeply in love with the person? or because i just don't think it's necessary to show off to everyone else? or is it because i know that though i love that person, i will never be with that person? or is it because i don't even know if what we have is love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ps. brother mike, you've been thoroughly missed. i'm glad to see you again. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6525752434219923034?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6525752434219923034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6525752434219923034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6525752434219923034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6525752434219923034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/love.html' title='love'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-374784099000175221</id><published>2008-01-01T02:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T03:10:57.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>jinx</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;have you ever had someone give up hope on you? have you ever had someone compare you to other people? have you ever had someone call you a jinx and made you believe it your whole life? have you ever felt so alone in this world? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;you will never understand how i feel. i don't think you ever can. i told someone before you taught me how to be happy. but then happiness is short-lived. and the times without happiness are very long. if that's the case then i think if i never knew the meaning of happiness, my life would be so much more peaceful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;it was to be sleep over tomorrow. it was to be a good new year filled with smiles and love. it was to be. i think the reason why i never really fully understood how one can be filled with so much positive feelings, is because i never believed they could really exist. and when i felt that i was in bliss, the moments were far too short to capture. in contrast, i remember every bit of how my heart was stung and every point of time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i know now i will and can never fully trust someone. and as i realise, i can't even trust me. what should have been could never have been. i told steph yesterday he makes me happy; i'm really happy when im with him. steph, it was an unknown lie. i never really understood the meaning of happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i remember every word that was said to me, and i remember that every word was meant. i admit defeat with shame. because i fought so hard to prove myself, prove my worth, to be where i am today. but the words that were said still haunt me every single day. i don't hate anymore, but i don't love too. so when you said you loved me 3 hours ago. did it ever occur to you that you were lying? that was why my heart cried with pain. because as much as i wanted it to be true, as much as i had done all i could for so many years, you would never love me. like it was said long time ago -- i'm a jinx, the bad luck baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-374784099000175221?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/374784099000175221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=374784099000175221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/374784099000175221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/374784099000175221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2008/01/jinx.html' title='jinx'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4466244224639039392</id><published>2007-12-16T17:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T18:14:35.213+08:00</updated><title type='text'>china</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;hello from china! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;im in a temperamental mood so here goes to certain pple of whom i wish not to name and of whom i think they won't even notice its referring to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. friendship isn't about giving and expecting something in return. i appreciate your goodwill arnd the middle of last month. but i didn't ask for it. and thus, how can you demand sth in return? friends. FULLSTOP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. if you're looking for people you can date and behave like you aren't, fine with me. but i'm not interested in joining you in whatever 'game' you're putting up. you're so good at it, there's honestly no challenge. so i admit defeat. and what or who is the trophy? are you happy now? if you are, thats great. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;anwys, hey banana yumyum! thanks for being online. it was wonderful to talk to yu again! yu've been thoroughly missed. fred clause ons! steph baby! i miss you alot la. hello! china's kicking me out on the 21st morn. POTLUCK at night! woohooo! its so fantastic! cant wait to see u guys again. and squishy squashy, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;people in china think im like 10 -12 yrs old. OMG. 10? huh?! damn the boobs. i walk on the freezing streets lookin like a fat penguin with al the layers piled. ugh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4466244224639039392?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4466244224639039392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4466244224639039392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4466244224639039392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4466244224639039392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/12/china.html' title='china'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-9051598295429827448</id><published>2007-12-05T23:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T23:17:54.903+08:00</updated><title type='text'>for christopher</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;this one's for christopher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Hey you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know i'm in the wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Time flies &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;When you're having fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;You wake up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Another year is gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Twenty one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I guess you wanna know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Why I'm on the phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Its been a day or so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know it's kinda late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But happy birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah yeah whoa oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know you hate me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah yeah whoa oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Well i miss you too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah yeah i know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know its kinda late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But happy birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;So hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;When you're far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;It's lame but i forgot the date&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I won't make the same mistake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;It's all too late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Now you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Don't hang up the phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I wish i was at home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know its way too late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But happy birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah yeah whoa oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know you hate me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah yeah whoa oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Well i miss you too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah yeah i know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I know its kinda late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But happy birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;To you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-9051598295429827448?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/9051598295429827448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=9051598295429827448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/9051598295429827448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/9051598295429827448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/12/for-christopher.html' title='for christopher'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4930573086442250124</id><published>2007-12-05T01:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T01:48:21.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>theres nothing left of us</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"if we are okay not knowing what each other is doing and feel nth when we go out with other guys or girls theres nothing left of us"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;it would have been all too right to have stepped away right from the start. and baby, you shouldn't have stopped me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4930573086442250124?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4930573086442250124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4930573086442250124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4930573086442250124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4930573086442250124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/12/theres-nothing-left-of-us.html' title='theres nothing left of us'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5977216741069621360</id><published>2007-11-26T21:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T21:27:25.437+08:00</updated><title type='text'>marxist</title><content type='html'>dear whoever,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm a Marxist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you really got to play hard to get if you want me to want you. if not, honestly, it gets me turned off, frustrated and annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you do know how to do that. i just don't see why you won't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with love and hate,&lt;br /&gt;melissa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5977216741069621360?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5977216741069621360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5977216741069621360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5977216741069621360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5977216741069621360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/11/marxist.html' title='marxist'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5318821199955825979</id><published>2007-11-23T01:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T01:31:44.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>give him everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;" i'd like to know what you were thinking when you stood there like that "&lt;br /&gt;(only because i've never seen such a look in your eyes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;" nothing &lt;em&gt;just admiring you&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;(when the answer's so sincere, one can feel it from the heart)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;i could give him everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5318821199955825979?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5318821199955825979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5318821199955825979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5318821199955825979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5318821199955825979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/11/give-him-everything.html' title='give him everything'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4891552979279378970</id><published>2007-11-21T00:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T00:50:48.624+08:00</updated><title type='text'>irritated and irritating</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i'm irritated and irritating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. i can't believe they are together. i hate the stupid pact that you boys made about me! i hate it i hate it i hate it. it's been like how many years and it's stupid! i hate both of you! stupid stupid stuupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. she s super pretty. ugh. why is she so pretttttyy. ): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. i miss boating. i miss the girls. i miss kallang. i miss the currents. i miss jiao lian. i miss boating. more than anything in the world right now. i miss those vigorous trngs. i miss being super tired. i miss boating so much. i really do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. i can't spend the next 20 years here. i'm so sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4891552979279378970?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4891552979279378970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4891552979279378970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4891552979279378970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4891552979279378970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/11/irritated-and-irritating.html' title='irritated and irritating'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3915317505122837782</id><published>2007-11-06T18:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T18:49:13.172+08:00</updated><title type='text'>call him mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I can call him mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;It was only a matter of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Before I got tired of your ways&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I tried to make you fire,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But you were only ice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And you didn't seem to wanna change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;So then I looked at someone new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And he was looking back at me too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Saw that I was hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Knew just what to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Knew just how to push the pain away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;You know I need stability&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And you know you can't give it to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;My sun may never rise the way it did with you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And he may never kiss me the way that you'd do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But at least he makes me feel like a part of his life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;At least he doesn't make me cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I know I can call him mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Though when I call him on the phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I never feel butterflies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I know that I can trust&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;He'll always give me love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And I know mine will grow for him in time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;He tells me that I'm beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And I never ever heard that from you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;He doesn't cause me pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Tears falling like the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And though I'm still in love with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;You know I need stability&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;It wasn't easy letting go but I know that I had to think of the long run and say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And find someone who appreciates me even though even though&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3915317505122837782?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3915317505122837782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3915317505122837782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3915317505122837782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3915317505122837782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/11/call-him-mine.html' title='call him mine'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-500718563844717867</id><published>2007-11-05T19:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T19:30:36.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'>jaded</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm jaded.  in whatever aspect u can think of.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i really would like to go to timbers again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-500718563844717867?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/500718563844717867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=500718563844717867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/500718563844717867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/500718563844717867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/11/jaded.html' title='jaded'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3155569473340546976</id><published>2007-10-31T22:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T22:21:11.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what's it like in NYC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hey there Delilah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;What's it like in New York City?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I'm a thousand miles away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But girl, tonight you look so pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Yes you do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Times Square can't shine as bright as you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I swear it's true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hey there Delilah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Don't you worry about the distance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I'm right there if you get lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Give this song another listen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Close your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Listen to my voice, it's my disguise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I'm by your side&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Chorus:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Oh it's what you do to me (X4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;What you do to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hey there Delilah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I know times are getting hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But just believe me&lt;/em&gt;, girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;We'll have it good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;We'll have the life we knew we would&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;My word is good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hey there Delilah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I've got so much left to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;If every simple song I wrote to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Would take your breath away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I'd write it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Even more in love with me you'd fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;We'd have it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Chorus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;A thousand miles seems pretty far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But they've got planes and trains and cars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I'd walk to you if I had no other way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Our friends would all make fun of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;and we'll just laugh along because we know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;That none of them have felt this way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Delilah &lt;em&gt;I can promise you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;That by the time we get through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;The world will never ever be the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;And you're to blame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hey there Delilah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;You be good and don't you miss me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Two more years and you'll be done with school &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;And I'll be making history like I do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;You'll know it's all because of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;We can do whatever we want to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hey there Delilah &lt;em&gt;here's to you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;This ones for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Chorus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3155569473340546976?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3155569473340546976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3155569473340546976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3155569473340546976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3155569473340546976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/whats-it-like-in-nyc.html' title='what&apos;s it like in NYC'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8306271824553992979</id><published>2007-10-28T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:42:16.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hurting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RySfgbwQP3I/AAAAAAAAAC8/-6Lcnhyp-hk/s1600-h/heartbrokent.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126397655409246066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RySfgbwQP3I/AAAAAAAAAC8/-6Lcnhyp-hk/s320/heartbrokent.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; i'm hurting.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&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/32623781-8306271824553992979?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8306271824553992979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8306271824553992979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8306271824553992979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8306271824553992979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/hurting.html' title='hurting'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RySfgbwQP3I/AAAAAAAAAC8/-6Lcnhyp-hk/s72-c/heartbrokent.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-2374500701216869461</id><published>2007-10-27T01:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T01:38:47.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the sadistic game</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i wanted to play the sadistic game because i wanted to see if yu would hurt me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i tolerated the pain for so long because i wanted to see if it would overcome my heartache.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i don't complain about the blue-black because i want to be constantly reminded of yur presence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;its been hard for both of us.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i miss being loved by yu..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2374500701216869461?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2374500701216869461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2374500701216869461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2374500701216869461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2374500701216869461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/sadistic-game.html' title='the sadistic game'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4419399311639723949</id><published>2007-10-21T14:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:42:17.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>frozen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/Rxrym8xPWEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/XbOaifw0h0E/s1600-h/24092007(003).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123674277048965186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/Rxrym8xPWEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/XbOaifw0h0E/s320/24092007(003).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu only see what your eyes want to see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;How can life be what yu want it to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu're frozen when yur heart's not open &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu're so consumed with how much yu get &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu waste yur time with hate and regret &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu're frozen when yur heart's not open &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;If I could melt yur heart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;We'd never be apart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Give yourself to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu are the key &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Now there's no point in placing the blame &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And yu should know I'd suffer the same &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If I lose yu, my heart would be broken&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Love is a bird, she needs to fly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Let all the hurt inside yu die &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu're frozen when your heart's not open &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;If I could melt yur heart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;We'd never be apart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Give yourself to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu are the key &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu only see what yur eyes want to see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;How can life be what yu want it to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu're frozen when yur heart's not open &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;If I could melt yur heart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;We'd never be apart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Give yurself to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Yu are the key&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;'come now baby; let's unfreeze the past and relive it one more time.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/32623781-4419399311639723949?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4419399311639723949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4419399311639723949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4419399311639723949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4419399311639723949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/frozen.html' title='frozen'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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/_gVWZSp1rqa0/Rxrym8xPWEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/XbOaifw0h0E/s72-c/24092007(003).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-7236706009215670113</id><published>2007-10-18T20:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T20:21:41.025+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the mask</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;i think i've just let the person i know i was going to marry go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;but what the heck; who wants to marry someone who doesn't want kids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;everything will be okay tomorrow, tomorrow there'll be no past. then i don't think i can sleep tonight; what if i forgot &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the mask&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;what's not meant to be, won't be. everything's just temporary; nothing will ever last.  fairytales only happen in dreamland. and dreams never come true. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7236706009215670113?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7236706009215670113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7236706009215670113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7236706009215670113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7236706009215670113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/mask.html' title='the mask'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6183701736185394121</id><published>2007-10-17T21:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T21:57:30.399+08:00</updated><title type='text'>God</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;God, have i told you recently how You make miracles? just when i thought that everything had died, my mind was in a mess, and i had absolutely no one; you just made me feel like i have everything i possibly need. thank You for helping me tide this over. thank You for giving me your presence through my family and friends. because of everything You've done for me, You've made me cry for joy. i am so in love with You.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-6183701736185394121?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6183701736185394121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6183701736185394121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6183701736185394121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6183701736185394121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/god.html' title='God'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1406135109642226085</id><published>2007-10-17T19:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T19:21:14.734+08:00</updated><title type='text'>crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i had to beg. beg down on my knees. saying please, baby please. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;the world's a pretty cruel place. everything happens and then fades away. when you have no one around when you need someone most. things tend to get crazy. and when i see what i see i get very very scared. of myself. i am that crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1406135109642226085?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1406135109642226085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1406135109642226085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1406135109642226085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1406135109642226085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/crazy.html' title='crazy'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4305409011977204191</id><published>2007-10-16T12:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T12:16:59.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't want kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i don't want kids. so any takers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4305409011977204191?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4305409011977204191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4305409011977204191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4305409011977204191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4305409011977204191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/dont-want-kids.html' title='don&apos;t want kids'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2778712642969288258</id><published>2007-10-14T17:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T17:15:05.568+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm not emo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i hate birthdays. espeacially my own. i mean, not that it wasn't a fun one or whatsoever. it's just the whole process of it. like the anticipation of THE DAY, THE DAY itself, and THE next DAY. the process is just so, emotionally charged in very very extreme ways that i cannot bring myself to go through. and the same routine happens every year. what i hate the most -- the birthday song. STUPID song. whoever invented it, i wish you hear it everyday that you get so bored of it you'll be regretting you ever invented it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;oh god. help me. i am so, so, so tired of going to school, so tired of school itself, so tired of looking forward to school. no, i'm afraid i'm one of those losers trying their best to pretend school's alright when it totally isn't. i'm really screwed here. i just don't think i'm suited for the whole creme da le creme bull. amongst all my years of schooling, i totally enjoyed myself most during my neighbourhood schooldays. and now its back to beating the beasts, the competition, the pressure, the stress. i am so mused with myself. to think that it was a dream school. well, dreams aren't supposed to come true; so WHY AM I HERE. and everyone else probably thinks i'm weird. because i'm supposed to be elated/grateful/appreciative blablabla that i'm actually in a singapore university! HAHAHA. ya? trust me, i'd trade places with anyone right now. honestly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so much to do, yet here i am procrastinating. so much for the new year's resolution. some things just don't change. i'm dreading the thought of my dying happiness. and i feel so so so fatigue. it seems like my body's working but my soul's left. no energy for excitement. no one shares much excitement anymore. everyone's just having their own weird time. and so i'm slowly changing to become one of THEM -- like one of those elite people whom i feel have absolutely no common sense at all and are super alien to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;drag me out of the cursed place before its too late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p.s. melissa, the girl with no soul. no. i'm not emo. i'm just hating the whole world right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2778712642969288258?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2778712642969288258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2778712642969288258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2778712642969288258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2778712642969288258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-not-emo.html' title='i&apos;m not emo'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2196307037585692168</id><published>2007-10-12T00:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T00:32:29.851+08:00</updated><title type='text'>.yu+me=?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Now that she's back in the atmosphere &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;She acts like summer and walks like rain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reminds me that there's time to change&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, hey, hey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Since the return from her stay on the moon &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Tell me did you sail across the sun &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And that heaven is overrated&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;One without a permanent scar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now that [he's] back from [his] soul vacation &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reminds me that there's time to grow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, hey, hey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Now that she's back in the atmosphere &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ol' Jane &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And head beck to the Milky Way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And tell me, did Venus blow your mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Was it everything you wanted to find &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you imagine no love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, pride, deep-fried chicken&lt;br /&gt;Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong Can you imagine no first dance, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;freeze dried romance&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; five-hour phone conversation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;The best soy latte that you ever had... &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And head back toward the Milky Way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.yu+me=?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2196307037585692168?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2196307037585692168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2196307037585692168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2196307037585692168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2196307037585692168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/yume.html' title='.yu+me=?'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-8058560365847929568</id><published>2007-10-06T15:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T15:41:38.807+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i got over you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now that it's all said and done,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe you were the one&lt;br /&gt;To build me up and tear me down,&lt;br /&gt;Like an old abandoned house.&lt;br /&gt;What you said when you left&lt;br /&gt;Just left me cold and out of breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I fell too far, was in way too deep.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I let you get the best of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Well, I never saw it coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I should've started running&lt;br /&gt;A long, long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;And I never thought I'd doubt you,&lt;br /&gt;I'm better off without you&lt;br /&gt;More than you, more than you know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm slowly getting closure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I guess it's really over.&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally getting better.&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm picking up the pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm spending all of these years&lt;br /&gt;Putting my heart back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;'Cause the day I thought I'd never get through,&lt;br /&gt;I got over you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;You took a hammer to these walls,&lt;br /&gt;Dragged the memories down the hall,&lt;br /&gt;Packed your bags and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;There was nothing I could say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And when you slammed the front door shut,&lt;br /&gt;A lot of others opened up,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;So did my eyes so I could see&lt;br /&gt;That you never were the best for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-8058560365847929568?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/8058560365847929568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=8058560365847929568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8058560365847929568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/8058560365847929568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-got-over-you.html' title='i got over you'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3791414844608063856</id><published>2007-10-06T00:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T00:18:38.818+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the flawless plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;the flawless plan that was made had made my day. it was so perfect; for once in my life, i actually know how is it like to enjoy it. and i had the most beautiful time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3791414844608063856?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3791414844608063856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3791414844608063856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3791414844608063856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3791414844608063856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/flawless-plan.html' title='the flawless plan'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4716443690764703872</id><published>2007-10-04T18:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T18:24:02.033+08:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday list '07</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i was thinking. and everyone's going to think i'm crazy. but i was thinking. maybe all these mid-terms and stress aren't that bad after all. in fact, they make me feel more at place in school. and i guess i'm getting used to school and maybe even... liking it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;okay. now shoot me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;anyways a few shout-outs to the amazing people out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;huangeng: HELLO! (: 9 more days for me! and 15 more days for you! ((: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ben (mac buddy): bring me go try the jello cocktail at balcony... whines. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;cindy: I MISS YOU. ): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;chris: i want orh ni! ): ): ): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;andrea: come over to my school and i'll show you around. winks. lunch w me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ainsley: one in a million. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;steph: i miss u, i wanna eat botak jones, i got ur bday present, i miss ur mom's tom yum soup.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;nut: you owe me one! (: new tees tomo! ((:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;banana yum yum: when yu want to know everything, call me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;BIRTHDAY LIST '07.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- LA SENZA vouchers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- hair straightener&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- accesories from DIVA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- ALL BLACKS jersey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- kisses, kisses &amp;amp; more kisses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- hugs, hugs &amp;amp; more hugs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- for everything to be right once in awhile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;things i do not want:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-makeup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-bodyshop stuffs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-pple to sing me birthday song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4716443690764703872?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4716443690764703872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4716443690764703872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4716443690764703872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4716443690764703872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/10/birthday-list-07.html' title='birthday list &apos;07'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-5937644198514627326</id><published>2007-09-28T23:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T23:41:59.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>M man</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;him: sometimes when you talk, i don't quite understand why you like to dissociate yourself from everyone else. you're not stupid you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;---------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;me: i wanna quit school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;him: (bursts out laughing)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;me: what? why you laughing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;him: you are so cute la.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;me: why? what did i do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;him: sometimes you just say the most random stuffs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hey M man, it's just the innocence and purity you have that makes me so comfortable.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-5937644198514627326?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/5937644198514627326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=5937644198514627326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5937644198514627326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/5937644198514627326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/m-man.html' title='M man'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-6349762622079392166</id><published>2007-09-28T01:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:42:17.478+08:00</updated><title type='text'>yu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RvvnbsxPWBI/AAAAAAAAACc/0ULFoRRINOg/s1600-h/24092007(007).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114936264869500946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RvvnbsxPWBI/AAAAAAAAACc/0ULFoRRINOg/s320/24092007(007).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RvvncMxPWCI/AAAAAAAAACk/W5zDIRmwXZU/s1600-h/24092007(001).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114936273459435554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RvvncMxPWCI/AAAAAAAAACk/W5zDIRmwXZU/s320/24092007(001).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;He's out of my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;He's out of my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And I don't know whether to laugh or cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;I don't know whether to live or die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And it cuts like a knife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;He's out of my life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;It's out of my hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;It's out of my hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;To think for two years he was here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And I took him for granted I was so cavalier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Now the way that it stands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;He's out of my hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;So I've learned that love's not possession&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And I've learned that love won't wait&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Now I've learned that love needs expression&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;But I learned too late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;He's out of my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;He's out of my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Damned indecision and cursed pride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Kept my love for him locked deep inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;And it cuts like a knife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;She's out of my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RvvnccxPWDI/AAAAAAAAACs/dUvfSfBoiSI/s1600-h/24092007(017).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;after all is said and done...&lt;/em&gt;&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/32623781-6349762622079392166?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/6349762622079392166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=6349762622079392166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6349762622079392166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/6349762622079392166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/yu_28.html' title='yu'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RvvnbsxPWBI/AAAAAAAAACc/0ULFoRRINOg/s72-c/24092007(007).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-482326481518550094</id><published>2007-09-25T22:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T22:07:59.525+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;i raise up my hands to You. You are all i have now Lord. i kneel and pray to You; please do not forsake me. i love You, Lord. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-482326481518550094?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/482326481518550094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=482326481518550094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/482326481518550094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/482326481518550094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/you.html' title='You'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-1649773576713712896</id><published>2007-09-23T14:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T14:17:12.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>blame</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i've finally got a topic to type on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i've realised that people tend to rely alot on patterns and then plan their life upon those patterns. they put in so much trust on those regularities that it becomes part and parcel of their weekly/monthly/even yearly schedules. it's questionable how much they become so used to it that when there's a change in plans which they don't know about, they still assume that it's going to be the same patterns and nothing's changed. no wrong there i suppose. but to hear it from them in such a confident reassuring tone, it creates a sense of confidence in yourself to. so you save all your doubts and questions. then the disappointment comes in when you realise that what they've been telling you is not what's happening at all. so who's fault is it then? it can't be theirs totally when all the previous times its been the same thing over and over again. so i suppose its natural for them to think the same schedule will follow suit. but still the confidence they instill upon you into making you believe them only to find out later that it's not the case. that's pretty sucky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;questions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;so do we continue assuming? or do we check first? or is it the tone? who's to blame? what's to blame? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-1649773576713712896?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/1649773576713712896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=1649773576713712896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1649773576713712896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/1649773576713712896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/blame.html' title='blame'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2183247526404397621</id><published>2007-09-21T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T23:24:39.852+08:00</updated><title type='text'>whatever it is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;him: "yu need to go clubbing tomorrow la."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;me: "why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;him: "because i need to dance with someone who can dance."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;me: "arw, that's so sweet."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;him: "and also because yu're turning into a chao mugger."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;thats not true... or is it? i'm broke. i just spent 30 bucks on a pack of beers and cigarettes. shoot me. on the other hand, it's a long term investment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;whatever it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2183247526404397621?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2183247526404397621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2183247526404397621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2183247526404397621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2183247526404397621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/whatever-it-is.html' title='whatever it is'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-7378001623983635829</id><published>2007-09-20T01:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T01:21:09.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MOTHERFUCKER</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;it shouldn't have been the case. i shouldn't have done all that i did. for her. and might i add, i really was thinking things would change, to be just like your family. how things were for you, being so happy and all. but i was so wrong. i could laugh my fucking ass off to be so wrong. what the fuck was i thinking. right? wishful thinkings. i forgot we shared the most different mothers in the world. i forgot while one was the best, so proud of you, the other was the worst, wishing i was never hers. exact words? i don't care at all about you, whatever you do has long had nothing to do with me. i don't care if you come home or not, what you do, who you go out with. i don't care. i've wasted my entire life on you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;yups. im a waste of space. and everything else for that matter. because im TOO FUCKING DUMB. TOO FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING DUMB. but fuck you right back! if i was too fucking dumb i wouldn't be where i am right now you fucking MOTHERFUCKER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7378001623983635829?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7378001623983635829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7378001623983635829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7378001623983635829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7378001623983635829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/motherfucker.html' title='MOTHERFUCKER'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3232378966773272130</id><published>2007-09-16T15:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:42:17.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'>know</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RuzVyCtKvmI/AAAAAAAAACU/K28c1exswH8/s1600-h/us.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110694732855164514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RuzVyCtKvmI/AAAAAAAAACU/K28c1exswH8/s320/us.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;cause when yu look at me in the eyes, i don't have to hear yu talk to know what yu want to say... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/32623781-3232378966773272130?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3232378966773272130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3232378966773272130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3232378966773272130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3232378966773272130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/know.html' title='know'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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/_gVWZSp1rqa0/RuzVyCtKvmI/AAAAAAAAACU/K28c1exswH8/s72-c/us.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32623781.post-7403659414460495452</id><published>2007-09-15T18:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T19:30:50.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm not the easiest person to love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;how is it possible to be so far away from someone when you have him right beside you. how is it possible to have your heart broken when he just made you smile. and how is it possible to look at someone and think of someone else. i don't understand how. is it even possible?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;to have someone look so innocent about the thrash going in your mind, to have someone smile at you dotingly with so much heart while your tears come flowing out, to have someone just staying beside you to make you feel you're not alone. to have someone hold you close to comfort you with the presence. and yet your mind's still nowhere near. how much pain can you feel with that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;then to have someone else having a slightly clearer idea of how you feel, but doesn't believe you much. acts, pretends like he does, but actually doesn't. tells you, you're silly to be thinking of such wild things, a strong vivid, wild imagination. to say he's still around for you, but actually he's far from near, no longer bothers. its so surreal, the things that are happening around you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;i don quite understood the reason for the tears. i think the pain was unbearable and i really couldn't hold it in anymore. whatever was said, all the sounds, it was so loud though so soft and then the mind was a whirl. and it probably started off with that stupid bulletin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;if only yu knew... but when was the last time yu even bothered to know about something. how can yu say so much to me and judge me when you don't even realise that yu're lying to me. nothing is what it seems to be. i'm not okay. nothing about everything is okay. yet yu don't even realise it. because yu're so far away. and we're too far apart. and there's absolutely nothing pulling us back. nothing except for the huge amount of pain that i'm feeling. alone. even when there's someone, loneliness is the ultimate feeling. and its just me and myself. and yu know that. yu don't realise anything else but yu know that. i'm just so amazed at how yu play yur two roles so well. but if yu only knew...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I'm not the easiest person to love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I'm often the one who lets things go unresolved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yet you choose to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I'm not too proud of some things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I've done in my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;The skeletons in my closet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Are too big for me to hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yet you choose to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Blessed Charity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;You're on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Everyone needs a friend to hold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;when it's cold outside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;and there's no place to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Everyone needs a friend to hold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;all alone I cried&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;there was no place to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I remember when nobody cared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;but you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I'm not the easiest person to love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But you, you've opened your heart to show me what I'm worth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;'Cause you choose to be on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;What a mystery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;You're on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I remember when nobody cared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Nobody cared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Yeah you choose to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;on the side of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-7403659414460495452?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/7403659414460495452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=7403659414460495452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7403659414460495452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/7403659414460495452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/im-not-easiest-person-to-love.html' title='i&apos;m not the easiest person to love'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-3794095678192725616</id><published>2007-09-13T00:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T00:09:13.599+08:00</updated><title type='text'>yu</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;(: when i have great company while watching a rugby match with someone who supports the same team as me. cant wait for saturday night when i can finally see yu. (: absence makes the heart grow fonder, and yu make my heart beat faster. lovee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-3794095678192725616?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/3794095678192725616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=3794095678192725616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3794095678192725616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/3794095678192725616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/yu.html' title='yu'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4488292822025601722</id><published>2007-09-09T12:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T12:27:57.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'>morse code</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;the all blacks take on the italians and won with a whooping 76 - 14! (((((((: w dan carter and doug hewlett playing a hell of a great game. i love rugby! i don't quite know why. they're those 22 men on the field slamming each other on the ground but i just feel so good watching it. beats soccer handsdown! oh yeaa. but i have to say, italy gave a good fight themselves without any signs on giving up even in the last 20sec. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;to the one i shared a morse code with:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I saw you across the dancefloor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Out of the corner of my eye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I felt the connection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I don't know how, I don't know why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I shouldn't of stayed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;When I saw you there with another man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But as we slipped away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I thought I heard you say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;This wasn't part of the plan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;It wasn't suppose to end up like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Ohh Ohh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;We knew it was wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But we couldn't resist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Til I fell in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;With you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But you didn't want me to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Oh no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And here we are two years later&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Too late to turn back now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;We gotta finish what we shouldn't have started&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;We got to walk away somehow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But it's easier said than done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;When two hearts beat as one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;And three hearts are one too many&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;That's why we shouldn't have ever begun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;We can't go on like this forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;When we're not meant to be together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;So leave me here on my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;From now on I guess I got to dance alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;It wasn't suppose to end up like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Oh oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;We knew it was wrong but we couldn't resist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Just a meaningless kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;But I'm still in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;With you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;No matter what I do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4488292822025601722?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4488292822025601722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4488292822025601722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4488292822025601722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4488292822025601722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/morse-code.html' title='morse code'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-482369555116891972</id><published>2007-09-06T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T22:14:59.398+08:00</updated><title type='text'>yur</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i don't care if all the girls in the entire world love yu cause i know im yur only one. ((((: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;that is what i mean when i say i feel totally secure with someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-482369555116891972?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/482369555116891972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=482369555116891972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/482369555116891972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/482369555116891972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/yur.html' title='yur'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-2179012537711476802</id><published>2007-09-04T21:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T22:18:16.795+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wishful thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;i don't understand why i let her affect me. or is it him. i don't even know her, but she's living this 'relationship' for me while i'm living in her shadow. just the walk by, or the stop at. it has all been some time ago, but then i can see and feel it in his eyes, for that one more glimpse of her. and when i think about it, i feel like a complete joke. who am i to be compared to her? she's an awful lot pretty, she's an awful lot smart. and she attracted him. she made him fall in love with her. she's stolen so much of him, if not all of him. maybe that explains the friends, the views, the quiet judgements. so the past will just remain the past, but it is part of who we are today. sometimes when he talks of her, the look in his eyes tells him off. sometimes when he talks of her, i do feel like walking out. the part of his world that i can never enter, the part of his world which is so perfect without any blemishes, the part where if i stepped in at all, i would ruin. i based all my feelings without knowing why. if i put it in an awful childish way, i could say she stole my 'elephant'. if it was even understood. the way he speaks of her, i can't even feel like i hate her. she's really so perfect, she really is. that even i, no matter how jealous i am of her, i can't even say anything mean about or to her. she is that perfect that i would willingly give way for her, to the point where i wouldn't even step in to interfere because i'd have felt no right to. i'm letting it all in, i'm letting it all go over me. they say jealousy is a 'green-eyed monster'. but in this case now, jealousy happens to be a dark spot lying in a dark corner, slowly vanishing as each light appears, and appearing again when that light disappears. i could never have it all. that smile which he has, belongs to her. the laugh that he has, could be so similar to mine, but it also belongs to her. and his heart, and mind, they all belong to her. i'm standing at a side watching this affair pass me by. but i have an absolute no right to do anything about it. what a perfect picture, what a perfect story. they say fairy tales never come true, but this is one which could last. because even the bad guys have been mesmerised by her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;i wanted to be just like her. but that was just wishful thinking on my part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-2179012537711476802?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/2179012537711476802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=2179012537711476802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2179012537711476802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/2179012537711476802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/wishful-thinking.html' title='wishful thinking'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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-32623781.post-4403954455035352241</id><published>2007-09-03T18:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T18:39:07.812+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lullaby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;close your eyes now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;try to sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;try and think of tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;twinkling stars are shining bright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;they'll be watching you all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;one more hug&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;one more smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;kiss you once&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;kiss you twice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;i'll be here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;all the while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;try to sleep now and close your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;when a small soft song rings in the head, goofy thinks about you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;----------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i cant believe i didnt meet him this weekend. i cant believe that its become so normal. dont go dont go dont go. no, memories, dont fade. dont dont dont. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;i dont know what i want. i really dont know. i want to fall asleep. will there be the lullaby that has always been sung.?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32623781-4403954455035352241?l=andshesays-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/feeds/4403954455035352241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32623781&amp;postID=4403954455035352241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4403954455035352241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32623781/posts/default/4403954455035352241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andshesays-.blogspot.com/2007/09/lullaby.html' title='lullaby'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14757801272613992687</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>
