<?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-2294011108816646177</id><updated>2012-01-07T20:31:25.206+08:00</updated><category term='my retarded self'/><category term='her'/><title type='text'>welcometosuckersville</title><subtitle type='html'>no juice, no boost.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-6495714874239014685</id><published>2011-09-17T14:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T15:00:16.724+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I GOT TWITTER</title><content type='html'>Follow me @HALIHOW&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Firstly, i would like to thank Jeff Jarvis for writing his book What Would Google Do and enlightening me to the ways and wonders of the google platform/business model, John Lee &amp;amp; Theresa Tan who bought me the book WWGD as a birthday gift, though you could have just sent me the ebook and i would've happily read it on my kindle instead, saving you guys some money in the process but i'd be a bastard to put it that way, Larry Page and Sergey Brin for founding Google which in turn led to Jeff writing a book about it, Evan Williams for allowing me to blog about it and google again for buying it(blogger), and lastly Biz Stone and Jack Dorsey and Evan Williams AGAIN for creating twitter and sharing it with me for free. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I once despised the part about my parents being slower at adapting to computers and stuff, but it's been 5 years since the birth of twitter and i only just got it. Like i always say, "twenty is the new old fogey". since 5 minutes ago. This makes sense because i only just turned twenty two weeks ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-6495714874239014685?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/6495714874239014685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6495714874239014685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6495714874239014685'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1100709637606997616</id><published>2011-03-14T11:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T11:11:46.262+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MY DEFINING MOMENT IN BMT</title><content type='html'>If you were to ask me for my defining moment in BMT right now, I would probably have difficulty in replying. However much I reflect on my month’s worth of experience in Ladang, I cannot find a single moment that cannot define who I am today, or the moment that has defined my BMT life so far. Could it be the 5 days of gruelling torment in field camp? The day I was entrusted with my rifle? Or even the moment I handed two dollars over to the man who would give me Nike h-Air? A virgin to all these high key events, I personally feel that my most defining moment in BMT would have to be these entire 4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, the 4 weeks of BMT have been a turmoil of emotions for me as I experienced many highs and lows and discovered myself more, both the good side and Ugly side. I learnt to trust my body’s mental and physical capabilities as the days went by where physical activities progressively increased, making me faster, stronger and better. Coming from a more athletic background then most of my fellow comrades, I knew I had no choice but to display a stronger front especially when they were at their limits. I found words to be of less meaning, but actions that were the driving force in motivating one another. During field camp, when I completed tiring tasks such as shellscrape digging, the temptation to rest would be there, but army has instilled in me the one for all and all for mentality such that when you are done with individual work, you have no choice but to help your buddies finish digging as well, because if someone in your section or platoon fails so, the commanders will give you the “if you play with me I will play with you. I will make you cry” speech and everyone would have to re-do the activity. That was a joke. What I’ve really learnt is that in winning a battle, no Rambo or any special individual is required, but teamwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now most men would say their field camp defined who they are at this point of time, but I realise that it isn’t the same for me. Embarrassingly to say, for me it was about achieving marksmanship for live range shooting. Not only does the SAR-21 has a scope, it has an in built laser target pointer. Personally I felt it would be pretty degrading if one did not bring down the target 26 times for BTP with the help of cutting-edge technology. I told myself that as a soldier, there would be no point in conquering IPPT easily if I couldn’t effectively handle and take aim with a rifle. Failing to make the mark by 1 shot on the day of the test was a blow to my confidence. There was only one thing left to bank on, which was the reshooting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the day of the reshoot, I thought quietly, “no pressure, this was going to be easy the second time” But that cocksureness was my downfall. I missed 4 out of the first eight rounds for the first re-test. Disappointed in myself and adding to my depression, I watched as some of my friends successfully achieved their score of 26. Lucky for the first round failures there was a second re-test. This time the stress mounted as I missed 3 of the first 8 rounds which meant I had no more chances to miss. In my mind I felt no one could help me now except myself. However, I was to be corrected quickly. Without the ever-understanding safety officer 2LT Anandraj beside me encouraging me with standard-SAF phrases like “it can be done” and “make your last shot count” I am quite certain I would have failed to perfectly nail the next 8 targets in a row and the second re-test would be disastrous, for there would be no third re-test. Other than extreme satisfaction, there are few words to express the gratefulness and elation I felt after the last target went down. To fall and get up on my feet again, I believe this was one of the moments that truly defined me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it may seem that BTP earned the title of this essay, in conclusion I would like to suggest that my defining moment in BMT starts and ends at the ferry terminal every book in and book out, for it's really not what you leave behind, but what you bring back. I Entered Army with uncertainty and fear but in a short span of time have graduated with a certain degree of confidence and conviction. As my Journey in Tekong and the war against myself to keep pushing beyond my limit continues, I will carry the Motto of Falcon with me, “discipline above everything, death before dishonour”. In that I pride myself, and hope to make every day the best day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REC BRIAN LEE ZHAN RUI&lt;br /&gt;F4415&lt;br /&gt;7TH MARCH 2010&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1100709637606997616?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1100709637606997616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1100709637606997616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1100709637606997616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1100709637606997616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html#1100709637606997616' title='MY DEFINING MOMENT IN BMT'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4833145075282300713</id><published>2010-06-26T21:45:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T00:25:09.809+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the great flood.</title><content type='html'>dreamt of her again. this is occuring more frequently! am i having a relapse??? anyway, glad to be posting here once more. unfortunately, the title of today's post reflects the series of calamities my life is undergoing at the moment. firstly because i booked out late today, on a saturday! followed by the knowledge that i will be confined in camp for live firing next week, not to even mention field camp and river crossing... the only thing i'm looking forward to is the outing with my section tmr, section 3 platoon 2 foxtrot company 55th bslc/10. though that is probably outshadowed by the fact that i've just been rejected by ntu and nus for sports science and management, and mechanical engineering respectively. completing the bout is the fact that i come home only to find that the comfort of the bed in SCS is more appealing than the soaked and dirtied one in my room, accompanied by a dampened smell due to yesterday's torrential outpour which caused the rain to seep through the second floor ceiling of my house and of course, not forgetting, giving me a dip in the muddy baby pool of water in lane 7 of chamber 2 of the 300m range. oh yes. and it is strange that i am still having dreams of her. one this week, one the last week? seems to be consistent with the fact that i miss her because she's gone overseas to study in the states miles away. wow. i'm already starting to use american lingo. miles instead of kilometres. if you, my beloved reader, happen to understand how bad a fall i'm taking, please do refer me to a counseling service other than the SAF hotline. meanwhile it is great to know that spain has qualified because they are the team i'm supporting this year. and i hope to see england overcome their world cup blues and walk past the quarter finals this time round... though that would have to mean a good team like Germany knocked out. speaking of blues, for money's sake i do want the blue samurais(Japan) to win the world cup because i foresee japanese cake and biscuits on the dining table. however, the odds appear to be 200 to 1 of that happening but if my sister's $5 dollar bet does pull through, she will be potentially 1k richer courtesy of singapore pools. anything is possible, including my parents consent for my overseas education(right,...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will abrubtly end this post because i am tired, "sshhhhhaaaacked"-1sg teo, and have no more time to waste. the lastest chapters of naruto and bleach are waiting for me! btw my new callsign is Bbrian. (BE BRIAN!) though my life sucks, i will take this crocodile dung from an optimistic point of view, this great flood is a wakeup call to me to start working harder. goodnight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fun fact: the greeks used crocodile dung and inserted it into a woman's vagina as they thought it would make them infertile. haha. they should promote that as mainstream contraceptive so that people would stop birth control.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4833145075282300713?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4833145075282300713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4833145075282300713' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4833145075282300713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4833145075282300713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html#4833145075282300713' title='the great flood.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2643205040812872891</id><published>2010-06-15T11:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T11:50:46.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'>greatest pickup line ever.</title><content type='html'>hmm. i have to get this patented one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;start with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hey wanna try something cool? see if you can guess what number i'm thinking between 1 and 10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;4 &lt;/em&gt;(statistics show that 70% of the time the person will choose 7 if you rush for an answer)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;carry on from here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;not bad. how bout an alphabet between A to Z&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I guessed it?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Uhm w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finish with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nope. i was thinking of u.&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/2294011108816646177-2643205040812872891?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2643205040812872891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2643205040812872891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2643205040812872891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2643205040812872891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html#2643205040812872891' title='greatest pickup line ever.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-8587380643052105175</id><published>2010-06-13T15:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T15:53:52.378+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what goes up must come down</title><content type='html'>yes she's waiting at the end. i can see her from 10 metres below. and all that must seperate us is an esculator. so i take it. and as it climbs me higher, i am rewarded by the sight of her smile, brilliant and pure, the hidden gleam in those eyes, emitting like a glorious ray of sunlight escaping from dark clouds in the sky. but seeing her arms open for an embrace takes me aback, for it was no closed secret that we had no relationship. i must be dreaming(i really was). i return an awkward smile... expecting some sort of reaction from the goddess in front of me. but it was as though she would not acknowledge. so i wave instead. and... suddenly i'm cut off by a gentle nudge on the arm from behind. "excuse me.", he says before overtaking. and the ring of love and elation only found in a person's voice when they have found what they have searched for their whole life only confirmed my deepest and tempest fears- and as you have probably guessed, he was the one she was waiting for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-8587380643052105175?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/8587380643052105175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=8587380643052105175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8587380643052105175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8587380643052105175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html#8587380643052105175' title='what goes up must come down'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1672566631277539763</id><published>2010-01-03T10:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T11:20:01.689+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BFG</title><content type='html'>she made a cameo appearance in my dream even though it was about my dad taking over the house and changing it into a supermarket in which my room was replaced with the beverages and snacks section! had a reoccuring dream about riding on giant spiders and discovering the lives of indigenous people. and at their fish farm they were showing us the fishcake fish-just add eyes and a tail to your regular fishcake and voila! you have a fishcake fish! what's amusing is that everyone in my dream believed it so. haha including me! i have this theory that in your dream, everyone has the same level of intelligence as you do. so whatever you think, they think too, whatever you can do, they do too. after all, you're the dreammaker! your mind can't dream up of something that has acquired more knowledge than you should have. but what if you aren't the dreammaker, what if dreams are artificially made, what if dreams do come from the bfg.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1672566631277539763?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1672566631277539763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1672566631277539763' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1672566631277539763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1672566631277539763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html#1672566631277539763' title='BFG'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5825867684468541352</id><published>2009-10-13T00:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T00:30:16.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my supergirl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/StNZYCmDdBI/AAAAAAAAACs/desyD3OS1Cc/s1600-h/lauravan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391751448440828946" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/StNZYCmDdBI/AAAAAAAAACs/desyD3OS1Cc/s320/lauravan.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's the girl i'm going to marry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5825867684468541352?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5825867684468541352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5825867684468541352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5825867684468541352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5825867684468541352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html#5825867684468541352' title='my supergirl'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/StNZYCmDdBI/AAAAAAAAACs/desyD3OS1Cc/s72-c/lauravan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-8959014503921819482</id><published>2009-08-04T00:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T21:55:43.385+08:00</updated><title type='text'>months and days.be emo and pray.</title><content type='html'>january's early.&lt;br /&gt;february's pretty.&lt;br /&gt;march comes i'll be waiting.&lt;br /&gt;april, fools- especially me. well,&lt;br /&gt;maybe we could hook up before the&lt;br /&gt;june holidays! cos&lt;br /&gt;july's a month away from my&lt;br /&gt;august crush. then goes forth&lt;br /&gt;september.&lt;br /&gt;octo weeks to As&lt;br /&gt;november&lt;br /&gt;december disco lights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-8959014503921819482?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/8959014503921819482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=8959014503921819482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8959014503921819482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8959014503921819482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2009_08_01_archive.html#8959014503921819482' title='months and days.be emo and pray.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-7522067552212624855</id><published>2009-06-26T17:10:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:39:03.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mikey's gone</title><content type='html'>25th june won't be only happy birthday to jessica anymore. celebrations will be cut in half for mikey mourning time. this post is for you MJ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s7MmEMrCRfc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s7MmEMrCRfc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with tears and bloodshed, michael has inspired so many people around the globe... malaysians too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YNatqCzF_Ns&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YNatqCzF_Ns&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mikey's dead. But a legend lives forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-7522067552212624855?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/7522067552212624855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=7522067552212624855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7522067552212624855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7522067552212624855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html#7522067552212624855' title='mikey&apos;s gone'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3559544640988514857</id><published>2009-06-26T02:34:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:41:59.245+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WOOHOO</title><content type='html'>FINALLY JUNE HOLIDAYS ARE COMING TO AN END!!!!!! NO MORE EXCUSES NOT TO STUDY!!!! CAN'T WAIT FOR SWINE FLU TO SAVE ME ANYMORE!!!!!! BUT I NEED THAT EXTRA ONE WEEK TO STUDY!!!!! FAILURE WILL BE COMPULSORY AT THIS RATE!!!! I CAN'T LET MY COMPUTER STAND IN MY WAY.... REALITY check: WHY AM I EXPRESSING MYSELF TO THE COMPUTER?!!??!?! AM I STUPID? DUMB? BRAINLESS? DIMWITTED? UNINTELLIGENT? ALL OF THE ABOVE??!!!!??!?!? NEED TO KICKSTART MY BRAIN TODAY. HOPEFULLY I'LL BE ABLE TO WAKE UP EARLY later. MY NORMAL DAY officially STARTS FROM 4PM AND ENDS AT 4AM. can't Touch me.... WHAT ON EARTH AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE. oh by the way, i watched transformers today!!!!! technically yesterday because now's 2.40 in the morning. MEGAN FOX that devil of a girl.... woooooooo. i'd oil her engine any day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351344043449738338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SkPLDgy5ZGI/AAAAAAAAACc/vHVc91M50GM/s320/megan!.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;BUt, transformers was disappointing.... some parts were too draggy, some parts too short... especially the (GODBLESSTHE)minidress Isabel Lucas was wearing. foxy is up for some major competiton... isabel had this thing going you know the total Whip-Me-If-I-Misbehave-I'm-The-One-In-Control look... woo her acting was so purrfect that i thought she might just take out a whip from her panties and... OH MY she actually DID... and it was like OUTER SPACE kinky I TELL YOU!!!!... except for the fact that it &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; from outer space and made out of metal and was attached to her. Daydream shattered. Splat. Plonk. Bhish. WHEN FOR MY SAKE DID DECEPTICONS LEARN HOW TO TRANSFORM INTO SEXY BLUE-EYED ONE HIT WONDERS???!?!?! actually i don't mind... as long as they stay that way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351343745555767826" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SkPKyLDcIhI/AAAAAAAAACU/H-F2HFMz6Ek/s320/isabel_luca.jpg" /&gt; wait,.. not yet. one more pic. not everyone will agree but i think ariel lin's cute x100. not related to transformers though. haha. you'll find her in legend of the condor heroes. rong-er.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 184px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351344364846104082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SkPLWOFwvhI/AAAAAAAAACk/UQkA7TNz0t8/s320/ariel.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3559544640988514857?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3559544640988514857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3559544640988514857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3559544640988514857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3559544640988514857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html#3559544640988514857' title='WOOHOO'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SkPLDgy5ZGI/AAAAAAAAACc/vHVc91M50GM/s72-c/megan!.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1702448239008699935</id><published>2009-01-24T09:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T00:43:32.861+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ouch.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;cool i just had my appendix removed: exact date 22/01/09.. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;I feel lighter without the appendix clinging me down haha, lost 5 kg(much more effective than those slimming sessions advertised out there!)&lt;br /&gt;will be out for a month but hopefully i'll be up and running by next week. wonder how i'll cope with ogling nationals and studies all piling up right next to me. @#$%^&amp;amp;*(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;here's a pic of my sexy fish bone scar hahahha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344256074055011010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SiqclZLFysI/AAAAAAAAAB8/8i96YFulvd4/s320/fbs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1702448239008699935?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1702448239008699935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1702448239008699935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1702448239008699935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1702448239008699935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#1702448239008699935' title='ouch.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SiqclZLFysI/AAAAAAAAAB8/8i96YFulvd4/s72-c/fbs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-340409283947569500</id><published>2009-01-03T04:09:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T00:25:36.117+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my name is public, my surname is newsense</title><content type='html'>you can call me- public newsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during the night of new year's eve half an hour before the countdown, you and your group of friends start abusing party blowers in public... which prompt strangers to come up to you and kindly ask the lot of you to "keep it down"...&lt;br /&gt;what should u say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"sorry. i'm paid to do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha, time flies when you're having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;list of things to do for jan 09:&lt;br /&gt;1- register for ns. the time has come.&lt;br /&gt;2- remind SAF that it's high time they changed to wingchun&lt;br /&gt;3- read the Times magazines piling beside my desk&lt;br /&gt;4- stop blogging. because it's lame and gay.&lt;br /&gt;5- master 'if tomorrow never comes' on the piano so that i won't look shortchanged of talent when a keyboard is shoved in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;6- sleep in moderation&lt;br /&gt;7- eat in moderation&lt;br /&gt;8- go bowling&lt;br /&gt;9- go ice skating&lt;br /&gt;10- be less clingy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and er, happy belated merry xmas and new year and birthdays to all of you out there lacking wishes! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-340409283947569500?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/340409283947569500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=340409283947569500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/340409283947569500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/340409283947569500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#340409283947569500' title='my name is public, my surname is newsense'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2422967774117785687</id><published>2008-11-27T23:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T00:16:34.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'>eveready</title><content type='html'>there is only one way to predict the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;invent it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i often wondered what the future might hold for me. but now i realise there's no point guessing. because now i know- i have the power to dream it, breathe it, hold it, feel it, and take it. same goes with luck. luck is a skill. it's not decided by fate, but by chances. anything better than fifty-fifty is good luck, anything rolled below that you can call bad luck- but not me, i call that a risk. and when i take risks, i only expect the worst, hope for the best, and not fault failure to bad luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, luck equals to skill, skill equals to training, training equals to hard work(i know i'm not especially genius damnnit), hard work equals to time spent. hence i can't expect everyday to be a sunday. it takes time to harvest good luck. and besides, luck is only relative to one's desires and wants. it can range from finding a 50 dollar bill on the floor, or finding one helluva hot chick to take home for the night haha. however it still boils down to training and experience. in the spur of the moment, will i be eveready? flexible to change? versatile? naturally competitive in a different environment? or react aggressively to stimulus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is only way to predict the future, and that is to invent it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2422967774117785687?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2422967774117785687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2422967774117785687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2422967774117785687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2422967774117785687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#2422967774117785687' title='eveready'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4412264869182769021</id><published>2008-11-16T01:50:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T02:52:04.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mind over matter</title><content type='html'>how does a person access his inner thoughts, and deliberately activate his own subconsciouness. is it even possible? i'm clueless. how do the talented exhibit their gifts so naturally? through passion? or could it be derived from hardwork? where do they find the motivation? what kind of self-control do they possess? how do they see the future, and not get distracted by the present? a purpose-driven life. how do they find it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know what i express is only half of what i ponder over, further yet it would be irrelevant to state this since a part of me already sees the line that is drawn between my capabilities of thinking and my aptitude at conveying it in words. my sanity and state of intelligence is then questioned because of the mental intake of persecution i receive arguing with fatigue as i struggle to clarify a matter i cannot fully comprehend. there is the possibility that i already know all the answers, but an intractable part of me refuses to accept the much sought after elucidation. i blame myself for being weak, utterly obstinate to the truth and for my lack of romaticizing life experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a solution i've arrived at now poses itself in the form of &lt;em&gt;delaying gratification:&lt;/em&gt; will a sacrifice of pleasurable time in exchange for quietness and contemplation justly aid me in my quest for solace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;anyone! help me change the question marks in my life to full stops. and i don't mean just erasing the hooked curve above the dot. =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4412264869182769021?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4412264869182769021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4412264869182769021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4412264869182769021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4412264869182769021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#4412264869182769021' title='mind over matter'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-7644199935556295906</id><published>2008-11-08T22:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T22:36:05.274+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the marcus song!</title><content type='html'>MARCUS! OH MARCUS!&lt;br /&gt;marcus is popular&lt;br /&gt;marcus is hip&lt;br /&gt;when Marcus is in the pool, the girls will take a dip!&lt;br /&gt;marcus is straight&lt;br /&gt;marcus is tall&lt;br /&gt;Marcus means everything to girls oh he's their all!&lt;br /&gt;marcus likes style&lt;br /&gt;marcus likes fashion&lt;br /&gt;marcus and girls spells just one word - Passion.&lt;br /&gt;marcus is busy&lt;br /&gt;marcus is teasy&lt;br /&gt;marcus with girls.. oh he's never easy.&lt;br /&gt;marcus takes one&lt;br /&gt;marcus takes two&lt;br /&gt;Marcus takes as many girls as he oh wants to do!&lt;br /&gt;marcus is the man&lt;br /&gt;marcus oh yes he can&lt;br /&gt;marcus oh marcus, on bed he shakes his thang!&lt;br /&gt;marcus and girls&lt;br /&gt;is just like buBble tea and pearls&lt;br /&gt;cannot be separated and makes their minds twirl~&lt;br /&gt;marcus is smart&lt;br /&gt;marcus has got the guts&lt;br /&gt;careful if you're a girl or marcus'll break ur heart!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-7644199935556295906?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/7644199935556295906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=7644199935556295906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7644199935556295906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7644199935556295906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#7644199935556295906' title='the marcus song!'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-6416687872042633404</id><published>2008-11-01T15:58:00.016+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T22:41:51.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>rich.</title><content type='html'>define being rich:&lt;br /&gt;the ability to flag bus 310 whenever you wish? spam 300 dollars on marlboros every month? or to be able to refurbish your wardrobe upon your every whim and fancy? haha. thanks to the internet, there's even ibanking and whatnots. with online shopping, here's an even faster and more convenient way to waste your money! thanks to a certain someone, i can proudly claim that i've been corruptedly introduced to the world of online eat-my-money-blog-shop spending sprees . it's as easy as abc. (i still don't get how it works though. it all sounds just like one of those internet financial scams to me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she says it's simple. only at the cheap expense of 4 steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 1&lt;/strong&gt;: hahhaha like you leave a comment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 2&lt;/strong&gt;: then they will send you an invoice with payment details&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 3&lt;/strong&gt;: aft you pay, you send back with your mailing details and payment details then they will mail you your parcel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 4&lt;/strong&gt;: ta da! brand new dress/shoes/whatever-other-else-there-is-that-makes-women-happy and a broken piggy bank at your doorstep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 5&lt;/strong&gt;: you sink into utter monetary despair, realising that what you did was really dense and brainless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 6&lt;/strong&gt;: you start to think about taking your own life. thoughts like "plus if everyone can die tgt isnt it cool?" start to wallow and swirl in your mind. [call 63892222]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 7&lt;/strong&gt;: you then consult a lawyer specialising in wills and decide to give away your entire inheritance(all that you have left to give is the accessories you bought from online shopping) to your younger sisters, with a note telling them never ever to wind up in the same sorry-ass state as yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 8&lt;/strong&gt;: with that, you jump off the building... falling, falling falling falling, and of course, at the bottom of that endless pit, i'm waiting there to catch you! i hold you there in my arms as you gaze into my eyes. without realising it, sparks fly. one glance from me is all it takes for you to wake to your senses and realisee(realise is actually short for really-see) that life is full of meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 9&lt;/strong&gt;: everyone thinks you're dead, and you return home only to find your younger sisters squabbling over the inheritance... Your conscience is torn over ruining their happiness! Guiltstricken, you decide to jump off again(actually you just want me to catch you and hold you in my arms one more time)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;step 10&lt;/strong&gt;: So you jump. but this time round, my arms are too tired and you fall to your death instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did i say 4 steps? i meant 10. simple no?&lt;br /&gt;moral of the story: hell no i'm not writing one here you go figure that out yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-6416687872042633404?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/6416687872042633404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=6416687872042633404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6416687872042633404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6416687872042633404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#6416687872042633404' title='rich.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4188033153204144028</id><published>2008-10-27T01:06:00.014+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T17:36:23.801+08:00</updated><title type='text'>season 2 premiere</title><content type='html'>HEY people. i'm officially back, FOR SEASON 2. i know you're hyperventilatingly-excited to be reading this. haha, short recap for starters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE, i didn't nail promos. and of course, when a person doesn't hit the nailhead with the hammer it can only mean one thing- he hit his own bloody thumb instead. (yeah his thumb turns bloody too. what a loser.) seemingly disappointed to say, i flunked gp alongside chinese. hmmm, is this a sign from above, that my communication skills should fail me in the future? i was just telling my parents this afternoon after lunch that if i end up abilityless in the near future with no career path in mind, i'll have to sign on in the army. yeah, here's a really important message to the people complaining about losing their jobs: WAKE YOUR ASS UP - you want job security? JOIN SECURITY for goodness sake. stop being a damn whiner and join the singapore armed forces. lol, maybe some SAF dude reading this might actually come along to buy the rights to use that statement as their tagline, and i'll overprice it and be rich overnight. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO, as for the emotions have been dammed part, everyone knows the story already, so lets just forget about it... and move on ;) hahaha. alright, to prove to my faithful readers that i've not turned into a dull lifeless boring person after plenty of emoing and exam-mining, i shall talk about my recent escapades. Nope, i haven't been indulging in insane walks home to east coast from barker road anymore but, yeah, i think ccaab(cca advisory board sch camp) sort of made up for it... hmm. lot's of things i could rant on about so i'll just point form everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CCAAB:&lt;br /&gt;day 1- torturous talk by ksl, that's about it. let's move on to day 2.&lt;br /&gt;day 2- suntanning session&lt;br /&gt;day 3- monkey/rabbit/tree day&lt;br /&gt;day 4- wicked sick fun telematch which Thatcher won. (don't ask me why they named my group after some politician who screwed up the welfare system)&lt;br /&gt;day 5- Thatcher wins second best group overall&gt; expected. blee wins best camper overall&gt; super unexpected, as everyone else has mentioned to me in casual passing. lol. fyi, it's quite the demoraliser guys. but then again, figured it's better this way cos an ego boost is really not quite what i need right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's talk about my real near future... nope, i'm not signing on to SAF. what for? haha, i think arh, use the "little boy" from hiroshima 1945 (yes, that was 63 years ago already) singapore still sink and everyone gg. but for now, i think chinese A-O levels can easily deal just as much damage to me. i could jolly well end up like that Olga Kurylenko from the rip-off-of-a-one-dastardly-horrible-movie-called-max-payne who ended up in bodybags assigned to each of her different body parts/ the only difference being that she got sliced and diced while i got a blow job(i mean this in a non-sexual way. yes, i thought it sounded appropriate. just pretend you don't know what it means okay?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm, next up is project work. all that's left is oral presentation.er, please don't get weird ideas now. it's project work, it's an Alvl subject. well, so far i've done four OP trials and am sad to say, that the transition from my first trial to my fourth was a total disaster. hmmm, the rap part of my presentation was impressive though. i am pleased to assure you that i am not exaggerating. my classmates can testify to that. haha. the only farce was the comments i received from the "examiner". i quote, "hmm, brian, i feel that you have toned down on the, umm, &lt;em&gt;too cool for school&lt;/em&gt; attitude of yours but, umm, i feel that even though it's better, you've umm lost some of your confidence." (she says 'umm' on purpose to add style to her speech but umm it just sounds annoying to me)&lt;br /&gt;TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL? right. thanks and no thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hey people, that's all for my life right now, yeah. welcomeBACKtosuckersville. goodnight!&lt;br /&gt;damn. my internet's not working right now so i got to save this and come back later to post it. - 2.01am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS! special thanks to Mao who inspired me to start blogging again. everyone say yay... yay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4188033153204144028?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4188033153204144028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4188033153204144028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4188033153204144028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4188033153204144028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#4188033153204144028' title='season 2 premiere'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5734673448987746743</id><published>2008-10-17T23:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T01:04:51.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lalala</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;no one will pass this test the first time, so don't be discouraged by the questions u see =)&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;my test&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.truefriendtest.com/friendtest/2019098"&gt;&lt;img alt="Leaderboard" src="http://www.truefriendtest.com/friend/2019098/1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.truefriendtest.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Create your own Friend Test here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5734673448987746743?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5734673448987746743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5734673448987746743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5734673448987746743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5734673448987746743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#5734673448987746743' title='lalala'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2372717869873822788</id><published>2008-07-28T20:46:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T01:05:37.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>season 1 finale</title><content type='html'>my reservoir of feelings have been dammed.&lt;br /&gt;i was a tad too late,&lt;br /&gt;maybe i can't twist fate.&lt;br /&gt;time for work to take precedence over life.&lt;br /&gt;ace promos and feel comfortable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2372717869873822788?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2372717869873822788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2372717869873822788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2372717869873822788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2372717869873822788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#2372717869873822788' title='season 1 finale'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5246131896224214714</id><published>2008-07-27T01:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:20:58.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mind reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;i wanna be a psychologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we cannot change the cards we've been dealt, but the way we play them&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5246131896224214714?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5246131896224214714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5246131896224214714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5246131896224214714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5246131896224214714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#5246131896224214714' title='mind reading'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4971120073980936040</id><published>2008-07-21T22:04:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T23:48:41.248+08:00</updated><title type='text'>live even if you don't know why!</title><content type='html'>don't worry!&lt;br /&gt;be happy!&lt;br /&gt;don't regret anything that makes you happy!&lt;br /&gt;live life without pressure!&lt;br /&gt;eternal youth is all about that stress-free look!&lt;br /&gt;be just the way you are!&lt;br /&gt;fall in love!&lt;br /&gt;fly to the moon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4971120073980936040?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4971120073980936040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4971120073980936040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4971120073980936040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4971120073980936040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#4971120073980936040' title='live even if you don&apos;t know why!'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1989776938753472754</id><published>2008-07-19T00:20:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:24:52.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>contradanza</title><content type='html'>slowly eating into me. making me fed up.&lt;br /&gt;F-ed up.&lt;br /&gt;i can't do this anymore. i'm not a toy.&lt;br /&gt;i need music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i6cKRT12jgw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i6cKRT12jgw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1989776938753472754?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1989776938753472754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1989776938753472754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1989776938753472754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1989776938753472754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#1989776938753472754' title='contradanza'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4512584161445806911</id><published>2008-07-17T17:16:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T11:54:25.682+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>silent rapture</title><content type='html'>i lose my pulse as she draws near, my presence pales before the aura of her beauty, and i go perfectly unnoticed. i experience the sweet temperamental lack of oxygen, and each moment is a breathless occasion in the making, a pendulum set in motion, slowly oscillating away the seconds i have left with her. there are so many words i have and want to say, but every single time i'll unwillingly preserve the silence instead. no measure of words can estimate the weight of the love i carry for her. perhaps i am so blinded by my emotions that my multi-sensory functions fail, my wits dull and a mambo jambo soundtrack plays in my head, rendering me with the social disability of a man in a mental jacket. i have motivation, there's incentive. i can casually smash a ball more than a hundred times in the court, but outside in the real field i have neither the balls nor energy to raise my hand for a simple wave .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4512584161445806911?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4512584161445806911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4512584161445806911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4512584161445806911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4512584161445806911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#4512584161445806911' title='silent rapture'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4416852746544960653</id><published>2008-07-15T21:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:11:54.817+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my retarded self'/><title type='text'>stress</title><content type='html'>could it be my infatuation with her is just a result of academic pressure?&lt;br /&gt;but when i gaze down those eyes, that deep passionate gleam, my entire body just turns into stone.&lt;br /&gt;it's her fault that my heart has pumped ten years worth.&lt;br /&gt;i'm beyond saturation.&lt;br /&gt;or is it just stress. (&lt;em&gt;i want to let out a resounding deafening silent scream that will bounce off the walls in shockwaves of pain&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;i've made a mess outta myself. maybe i do wanna be messed up. maybe i enjoy undergoing that anti-societal-rebel feeling when i experience the consequences of my purposefully self-inflicted troublemaking against the norm. could that be what it takes to be human- to make mistakes intentionally at will; to err is human; therefore to live the perfect human life is to honour this contract; what i'm saying is that if my life were a mess, shouldn't i strive to make it the perfect mess? to tidy my disorganizational fear of making mistakes. to clean up the insecurity of rejection...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4416852746544960653?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4416852746544960653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4416852746544960653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4416852746544960653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4416852746544960653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#4416852746544960653' title='stress'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5192227810135071861</id><published>2008-07-13T01:52:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:21:58.252+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my retarded self'/><title type='text'>behind bars</title><content type='html'>if understatedjealousy was a crime, i should be apprehended, arrested, sent into prison, then charged with a fine which i can't pay, be declared bankrupt, and thus assured that i'll be safely spending the rest of my life behind bars. maybe that's what i need now. maybe i need to lock myself up. maybe temporal isolation's the way to go. i've had too much of a love mix, a moonstruck potion. an accidental drop of passion. a careless taint of naiveity. a spillover of languishing adolescent delusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never would've thought that the happiest and most depressing times of nearly two decades of my insignificant life(so far) would coexist within the same dimension. and she's moving off in a direction completely unknown to me.&lt;br /&gt;i need a summer holiday. i need a to bathe in soft sunlight and read a book with really long pages. i need to let go of my worries. i need time to sit for hours doing that. that'll stir me. that'll give me direction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5192227810135071861?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5192227810135071861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5192227810135071861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5192227810135071861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5192227810135071861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#5192227810135071861' title='behind bars'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4338195763452743049</id><published>2008-07-10T23:36:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:22:27.321+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my retarded self'/><title type='text'>go away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;word of caution to my faithful readers:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;mentally brace yourself. this post might cause vexation, depression, anxiety, guilt whatsover(i may be exaggerating but just in case). prepare for a strong bout of mental torture. what you are about to read is very real.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm not caring enough.&lt;br /&gt;so that daoness part of me is actually the part of me that does not care and i show it.&lt;br /&gt;i show that i don't care.&lt;br /&gt;you know what?&lt;br /&gt;maybe i really don't care.&lt;br /&gt;maybe i've become so insecure from early life experiences i've taught myself to care for only one person.&lt;br /&gt;myself.&lt;br /&gt;how do you know i care about you?&lt;br /&gt;maybe i just want to know what's going on for the sake of my own self benefit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;fine&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;should i go cut my wrist now&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;and see how frazzled u will beocme?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i'm trying to convince myself that i am wrong by listening to you.&lt;br /&gt;but in my heart, i know that i won't really care.&lt;br /&gt;cos it'd be just " die then die lor "(if u die naturally not by cutting urself la) let him rest in peace his death can't be helped.&lt;br /&gt;im emotionless.&lt;br /&gt;i don't think i'll cry over that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;cox u will never know whether u care abt something or someone&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;gosh bleee&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;ur not emotionless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am so freaking screwed.&lt;br /&gt;because i don't care.&lt;br /&gt;it is a fake reality that i care for others. even in caring for others, i can only convince myself that i'm doing it for the greater good which is the reason why i'm caring. but then that's not really caring is it? take for example, i'm caring because i want him to be my friend - i'm not caring because he's my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;i already said&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;u wun know tt u care abt a person beforehand&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;it just happens naturally&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;like now&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;i dun care abt anyone&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;i can even visualise tt if u have died&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;i wun cry&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;but i know i will&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;hahaha&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;is like feelings cannot be stirred by just imgagination&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;when the real thing happens&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;den u will realise&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;anyway blee if ur emotionless y would u like tt girl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i THINK that.&lt;br /&gt;if i cried, it would be because i didn't get the chance to care enough.&lt;br /&gt;because i didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;and when u're dead, isn't it too late to care?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;nope not too late&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;if u cry when i die&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;i will be damn happy hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tell me why the girl i like has such high aesthetic value?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;lol isnt tt good?&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;hahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nice one.&lt;br /&gt;but this still shows that i care more about the outside than inside.&lt;br /&gt;and it's the inside that's important isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;the type of care im referring to now is the inward caring type- more personal level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;its always looks tt attract u&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;den u get to know the character of a person&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;blee dun think so much&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;u care abt people&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;tts for sure&lt;br /&gt;:) says:&lt;br /&gt;stop thinkning tt u cant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe the fact that i care so much about this matter just goes to show that i do care.&lt;br /&gt;screw it. i'm going to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4338195763452743049?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4338195763452743049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4338195763452743049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4338195763452743049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4338195763452743049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#4338195763452743049' title='go away'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1388335798824512287</id><published>2008-06-29T11:26:00.031+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T21:52:40.259+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my retarded self'/><title type='text'>great expectations</title><content type='html'>the feeling when people underestimate me because i give the impression that i didn't expect much from that specific something, is quite depressing. until i realised that it was true, so i don't actually care what other people think.&lt;br /&gt;adversely, when i'm overly nice, people demand more from me, or so i feel, so expectations on me are higher. when they ask for help, could it be because they are trying to take advantage of me, or could it just mean i'm capable.&lt;br /&gt;i assure myself in knowing that the lower i'm expected to perform, the less pressure i'll feel. yet i cannot take comfort in knowing that i'm not up to standard, because that'll be a suckerpunch of irony. the flaw is that i want to ace every aspect of my life. but i'm too cowardly, i'm suppressing myself because of the fear- of hurting myself, or that in being better than others, i humble their prowess. then again, how could i dare say something like this, it is far too arrogant for i have yet to prove myself. without being worthy, i shouldn't deserve the rights to my wants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1388335798824512287?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1388335798824512287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1388335798824512287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1388335798824512287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1388335798824512287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#1388335798824512287' title='great expectations'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3818911939463611965</id><published>2008-06-24T17:48:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T01:11:23.015+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>once smitten, twice shy.</title><content type='html'>okay.&lt;br /&gt;i admit it.&lt;br /&gt;i'm one of those shallow half-witted fellas who has fallen into the dangerous category of "don't you like her because she's so hot?". and maybe, i've fallen in love with her again. the samesamesamesamesame personnnnnnnn- how's that even possible?.. gosh, if mr. lu ming yao was reading this he'd probably say, impossible is not a fact, it's an opinion. impossible is not a declaration, it's a dare. impossible is potential, impossible is temporary. impossible is nothing. Right. what do i think? I think of the way she talks the way she walks the way she looks at me the way she's movin' me, and i think of a superficially impossible relationship between her and me, and i think that "impossible"s just a much cooler sounding substitute for improbable. subjective reality wise, the only sidewinding reason for me to be neatly typing out all these legible love words is for the due sake of saving it in a text document in the improbable 'possible' hope that i'll be reading my blog 50 years down the road, next to her. oh yeah, now's also the time to remember that i've just failed my chemistry paper and if i continue staring at my computer screen, i'll have one less h1 pass by the end of tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;it's in her eyes. so pretty makes me wanna cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3818911939463611965?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3818911939463611965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3818911939463611965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3818911939463611965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3818911939463611965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#3818911939463611965' title='once smitten, twice shy.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5755135591858169278</id><published>2008-06-22T21:28:00.016+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:25:43.580+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a debt to pay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;wow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;it's grandmother's birthday dinner, she's 86, and we're having table conversation. so the topic deviates to revolve around my brother's life. and my mom asks what he and i talk about in the same room we've shared for 12 years. all he could call to mind was, "oh, i tell him to switch on the aircon". for me too, it's not really talking but shouting to a half-dead semi-asleep body: "can you turn off your darn alarm clock?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;don't know why i've become so exam conscious these days, years. i think i must've 'woke up my idea' in sec 2 when i almost flunked everything. butthen again it's only mid years wth... yet there's this inner filial motivation that drives me to do well. for my parents. they've paid for my life education and tuition. if i'm not going to pay them back in hard cash, it has to be written off in good results. so let's see what tomorrow's gp compre and chinese prelim paper has to offer. bring it on baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5755135591858169278?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5755135591858169278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5755135591858169278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5755135591858169278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5755135591858169278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#5755135591858169278' title='a debt to pay'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4153273094721712637</id><published>2008-06-21T02:07:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:27:35.151+08:00</updated><title type='text'>time flies</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;time flies. it's disgusting, revolting. those black little insects with the much coveted aeronautical God-given ability. especially those fat ones with huge eyes that compound 360 degree vision. depressingly, time passes as fast as they can fly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;it's my last june holidays, but what have i been doing the past week?&lt;br /&gt;i wake at 12pm, heavy lunch, minesweeper flags, eat cereal, nap till 7, dinner, study, eat cereal, study till 2am. and to think i've been wondering why i've been having pimple outbreaks. the stress. creased forehead. knitted eyebrows. i'm totally out of tune with nature. gosh. i've just realised, how many rainbows have i seen in my whole life?- i believe the actual numerical value is less than the number of years my life has spanned so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i've been talking in my sleep, praying tomorrow was yesterday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;life ain't what it seems, please baby tell me what it means.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you just came back from time travellin'; maybe the future's no such thing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;time is my enemy; the hour's a tragedy; the seconds go by, so slowly.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;well, time is a compromise; every minute's a sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;question of the day: "yeah, did we even know we had hols in june when we were in kindergarten?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4153273094721712637?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4153273094721712637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4153273094721712637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4153273094721712637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4153273094721712637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#4153273094721712637' title='time flies'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-6954164523573164428</id><published>2008-06-18T23:20:00.035+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T22:04:47.100+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>creative writing competition</title><content type='html'>In my dreams i'll hold you mighty tight&lt;br /&gt;layin' awake wishing each hug lasted a fortnight&lt;br /&gt;one destiny seeking you would be an impossibly needless dare, for&lt;br /&gt;vixens like you are so very rare, baby&lt;br /&gt;eclipse me with a mere flick of your hair.&lt;br /&gt;Just gaze in my eyes and see your future&lt;br /&gt;eat short gasps of my breath and lose tenure.&lt;br /&gt;a sound of my voice to imagine a symphony&lt;br /&gt;nestle your hand in mine to feel like royalty.&lt;br /&gt;know you melt my senses with your soft soft cries&lt;br /&gt;overwhelm my life and taste a drop of paradise,oh&lt;br /&gt;hear my sighs shatter in an illusionary orb of lies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-6954164523573164428?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/6954164523573164428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=6954164523573164428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6954164523573164428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6954164523573164428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#6954164523573164428' title='creative writing competition'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1960191475197627545</id><published>2008-06-12T23:38:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:40:27.861+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the green dream</title><content type='html'>alright, question of the day- What has 78 teeth and holds back the incredible hulk?&lt;br /&gt;that's right. MY ZIPPER.&lt;br /&gt;i know i know, sensitive topic here for all you guys. oh well, needed something to jumpstart the post. haha, the incredible hulk is one green movie that was so so incapsulating, it left me stranded in the cinema for far too long, my mind just couldn't help but wonder how marvel managed to stretch those marvel-ous pants of his, that one hunk of a bruce banner, he actually managed to keep it on! but you know, it seems that all comic work must include the alter-ego-hero protagonist, one ugly bad-ass actallomighty antagonist, and not to forget, the catalyst or chemical X or superhotgirlfriend or whatever you wanna call it, in order to give the superhero the additional, "umph!", to overhaul mr. notsonice guy(whom i must say always appears to be much more expotentially overpowered) at the last minute. and yes i'm sure we'll all agree that liv tyler with the elfin ears in lord of the rings is definitely a 'rather than', than in this epic movie. yeah, but don't forget to thank God brucie boy's not stark naked in his incredible form, or we'll be suffering from post-mortem stress having to listen to all the little kids ask their mummy halfway through the show, "are you sure that's where babies come from?"...(the dots signify the pause for effect-that line was meant to be a joke) anyway, speaking of stark, i must compliment my good friend Tony's unique metallic way of malleable-ing himself into the ending. this is the part where the dim-witted, nah, the childhood-deprived folks, start asking their next door neighbours about that avengers project of his. haha. actually i'm one of them. had no idea what he was ranting on to. looks like i'll be awake studying marvel comic history into the wee hours of the dear morning . ah. i predict a cross-hero mashed up dream tonight. hope there'll be a happy ending and i'll save the day and when i'm about to be kissed by liv tyler... POOF!- dream disappears in an array of clouddust and i wake up to a screaming alarm clock.&lt;br /&gt;blardy hell, hope there wasn't anything after the credits cos i didn't bother staying on till the close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1960191475197627545?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1960191475197627545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1960191475197627545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1960191475197627545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1960191475197627545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#1960191475197627545' title='the green dream'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1577627537695732887</id><published>2008-06-11T15:21:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T02:29:22.664+08:00</updated><title type='text'>one</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;pain is pleasure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;pleasure is victory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt; -&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;anonymous&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one world.&lt;br /&gt;one people.&lt;br /&gt;one team.&lt;br /&gt;one ac.&lt;br /&gt;one cheer- "GROUP hugggggggggggggg! let's f***! gooooo AC!"&lt;br /&gt;yeah baby. season's finally over. and we, finished off with a sexy bang. i love you guys. 3rd ain't all that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;squash cheat codes&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(to be shouted loudly from outside the court)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SHOWMEWHO'STHEMAN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- player whacks the ball like a manimal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DON'TGIVEUP&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- player runs like a dog for every ball till he starts cramping in the legs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ONEBYONE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- player goes for percentage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CMONTAKEITBACK&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- player takes back the handout&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DON'TBESCARED&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- player rallies for the longest time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THAT'STHEWAY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- player hits a nick shot... shout SEXY!- and the player does it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AREYOUHAVINGFUN?!&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;/em&gt; player wakes up his idea and wins the game(most effective when player is losing with a constipated face)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1577627537695732887?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1577627537695732887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1577627537695732887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1577627537695732887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1577627537695732887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#1577627537695732887' title='one'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1146791303919484267</id><published>2008-06-08T00:52:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T19:25:20.509+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>calculate the possibilty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;five hundred and fifteen days to set us apart&lt;br /&gt;yet here we are at the same institution&lt;br /&gt;you take biology i take physics&lt;br /&gt;chemistry in common-&lt;br /&gt;i wonder what you see, when you look at me&lt;br /&gt;do you ever wonder what i see, when i look at you&lt;br /&gt;if you knew what i see how would you feel&lt;br /&gt;possibly flattered, or drastically offended-&lt;br /&gt;i have math lessons three four times a week&lt;br /&gt;but the only thing i've learnt&lt;br /&gt;is to calculate the distance between you and me&lt;br /&gt;be it four, five or twenty feet-&lt;br /&gt;i'll imagine you my sunshine &lt;br /&gt;dream up a whole relationship&lt;br /&gt;but when the downpour of doubting fallacy comes&lt;br /&gt;i'd declare it over before it's even begun-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the table of fortune&lt;br /&gt;where the cards have been dealt&lt;br /&gt;look at the red ace you've drawn&lt;br /&gt;just one heart to melt-♥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1146791303919484267?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1146791303919484267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1146791303919484267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1146791303919484267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1146791303919484267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#1146791303919484267' title='calculate the possibilty'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2486917191677797283</id><published>2008-06-06T18:20:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T02:29:45.252+08:00</updated><title type='text'>who invented nightmares</title><content type='html'>nightmare 1&lt;br /&gt;5th june, thursday.&lt;br /&gt;grueling day of training and studying. reached home around 5, after oversleeping on the bus. missed by 2 stops. zz. then napped from 540 to 8 during which i experienced a terrifying ordeal.&lt;br /&gt;:i woke up in my dream, only to find out that my older brother was going out with &lt;strong&gt;her&lt;/strong&gt;. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nightmare 2&lt;br /&gt;6th june, friday.&lt;br /&gt;finished off the grp stage with a clean sweep of srjc. hot steamy bath and cold water slidin' with my homies. prata galore. reached home around 4, with a rather awkward half-sleep&amp;amp;wake ride on the mrt. then napped from 4.40 to 6 during which, i had a near-death experience.&lt;br /&gt;:at first there was a bomb blast in church which i escaped by a hair's breadth, but they sent a professional killer to finish me off. so i faced him, exhanged words(i didn't really say anything i was scared shitless), then he said something lame like "i think i should finish the job now.."(typical hollywood cliche), and he lunged forward. just when i was about to meet my Maker, i woke up in reality, breathing heavily, heart pounding faster and louder than normal, thinking of all the possible ways he would've mutilated me. PRAISE THE LORD. phewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woah. two nightmares in a row. but then again, they say the opposite of your dreams happen in reality. so i wonder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2486917191677797283?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2486917191677797283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2486917191677797283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2486917191677797283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2486917191677797283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#2486917191677797283' title='who invented nightmares'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4446015688422325259</id><published>2008-06-01T00:39:00.025+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T17:52:56.802+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>Restless V</title><content type='html'>Squirming into the lush, ravishing red, sensualized seat of the newly constructed auditorium- i adjusted my rigid elongated legs to fit comfortably into the obscenely limited chair radius provided. But however much the cushioned platform serenaded with my whole, connecting perfectly with the nervous system, sending tingling sensations down my spine, in the solitude of my seat, i felt restless. Without instruction, eyes affixed diagonally downwards, at an obtuse angle of about a 150°, head systematically positioned straightfoward to prevent any unnecessary strain in the neck, as if on cue, a vivacious vision greeted me, a choir of angels all on its own. One hundred and twenty seconds, i counted, time stood still. It was only after the lights went out, imprisoning my sight in darkness, negating the delectable view that was stealing my attention from the front stage performance, then did my passive self awaken from the subconscious universe that revolved around her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the next eighty minutes or so, fifty percent of the testosterone dominated male named Brian enjoyed the show, whilst his other half was engaged in a reckless inner-conflict, parallel to the raging rhythm and humdrum of the music, of which he honestly appreciated more than the dance. It was simply the way her smile toyed with his fragile memory, tantalising a guy's whiffs and fancies in more ways than one- a perfect blend of harmony midstreamed in a synchronised planar of the cacophonic environment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just seventeen days ago had i come clean with my emotions, climax of truth untold, removing the thorn that was penetrating my heart with a slow piercing motion. Yet like a jigsaw puzzle, that very play was the missing piece, come back to haunt me, assuming the form of -you know, the thing that happens some time after you quit, what do they call it? ah, yes.- ghostly withdrawal symptoms, encroaching loveless victims like myself. Oh when in the future will it be my turn to shatter this magical mirror of the past, without dire consequences&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4446015688422325259?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4446015688422325259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4446015688422325259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4446015688422325259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4446015688422325259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#4446015688422325259' title='Restless V'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-6583173719739989081</id><published>2008-05-31T00:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T00:47:01.714+08:00</updated><title type='text'>type abc</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;i simply have to glorify Sean the self-proclaimed sexpert's theory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the names used in the convo have been changed so as to, um, protect the identities of certain someones&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;lol please Tom's type b person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;same as me haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;will definately get a gal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;blee says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;what's type b?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;it means gals will never reveal their true feelings to u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;i mean never&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;but they enjoy toking to u and prefer to like u in secret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;and they will onli reveal their liking for u if u confess first&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blee says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;what's type a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;type a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;is Dick's type&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;gals confess feeling in front of htem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;but if u think carefully type b is beta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;is like both parties really like each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;rather than type A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;which is a one sided love thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;blee says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;nope. it sucks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blee says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;then type b will always be the one in trouble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;blee says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;having to gut up his balls to confess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;lol but its damn romantic wad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;like true love kind of shit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;nvm next time u will know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;type c is Harry's type&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;blee says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;what's that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;can onli find gal through common interst&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;which means mugging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sean says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;hahahaaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the end.&lt;br /&gt;don't guess my type. haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-6583173719739989081?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/6583173719739989081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=6583173719739989081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6583173719739989081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6583173719739989081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#6583173719739989081' title='type abc'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3513125453954408930</id><published>2008-05-16T23:01:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:45:32.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>unintentional suicide</title><content type='html'>"i wish someone would just come and stab me, i'll be extremly grateful... but i don't want to end up in a coma or anything, get what i mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is that considered suicidal? is that the cue to console? how do you form sentences to respond to someone who tells you that?&lt;br /&gt;and when he replies, "hey, thanks.. just to let you know, your concern is appreciated", doesn't it sound just like what he would say right before he's about to jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the censured self-blaming torture. the disambiguating sympathy. should i keep my mouth shut instead, and let the unspoken do the talking? is silence golden?&lt;br /&gt;maybe just giving the weary looks of encouragement and empathy will help?&lt;br /&gt;which ends up making them feel exacerbated and not stronger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.isn't it daunting, being afraid to share heartfelt conformities of truth?&lt;br /&gt;..and well, accidentally speaking of hurtful misguided expressions?&lt;br /&gt;...or be shortchanged of words- standing inadequate, jaw-locked &amp;amp; lip-sealed, unsure whether to lend a shoulder for her to cry on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;screw all that, they're still champs regardless. it's pride and it's joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3513125453954408930?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3513125453954408930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3513125453954408930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3513125453954408930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3513125453954408930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#3513125453954408930' title='unintentional suicide'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5379673901308551041</id><published>2008-05-14T21:38:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T22:37:48.197+08:00</updated><title type='text'>no more strings attached</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;the nb girls are wicked sick. they've got hwa chong "beggin them for mercy", it's like the song-cum-netball version. they make the crowd go wildddd. as quoted from my captain, yx, "you see when our ac girl steals the ball from her opponent, she gives that ultra-triumphant(but not bitchy)-half-sneer-RIGHT-IN-YOUR-FACE,-Woman!-look  ... that's the way mannn, send them home!"&lt;br /&gt;yeah,&lt;br /&gt;ecstacyfying entertainment, inculminating inspiration, sublimation of skill and superiority at the acme of AChampions performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;it was a five-month infatuation. there are strings attached no more. strangely, it feels kinda good and bad at the same time. though i may regret saying this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5379673901308551041?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5379673901308551041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5379673901308551041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5379673901308551041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5379673901308551041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#5379673901308551041' title='no more strings attached'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4533398813571684340</id><published>2008-05-13T22:08:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T23:13:38.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>that player will be me</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;rule the court&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the way to excel in a game is not to think about winning? to forget the pressure? rely on your basic instincts? what matters, is the passion. the fun. the hype. the thrill. the feeling of weightlessness. the intangible fatigue connected by an umblical cord to a rocky road of delightful pain. sadistic woes of watching your opponent give up haplessly.&lt;br /&gt;it's not about the win. it's about the fun - it's about recalling that fragmental memory of your first time picking up the racquet and hitting the ball, when you care more about enjoying yourself rather than focusing on winning. if one can subtly activate that cognition to neutralize the fear and nervousness that triggers under tremendous anxiety of your opponent being able to return a ball which you can't take or mishit, he/she has truly overcome and surpassed his own limits - mastery finesse intertwined within pinnacles of perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that player will be me =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4533398813571684340?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4533398813571684340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4533398813571684340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4533398813571684340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4533398813571684340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#4533398813571684340' title='that player will be me'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-7079432315776894187</id><published>2008-05-11T00:22:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:16:05.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>billie jean</title><content type='html'>WHAT THE...&lt;br /&gt;sally: "anw. brian is a beautiful guy. he has got the prettiest eyelashes a guy will ever have. his eye lashes is even thicker than marcus, like as if gt mascara. im amazed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HOPE TO GOD THAT'S A COMPLIMENT. I'M HAVING TROUBLE DEALING WITH THE WORD 'BEAUTIFUL'. ISN'T THAT EXQUISITE PIECE OF VOCABULARY ONLY, EXCLUSIVELY, RESERVED FOR, AHEM, MEMBERS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if only she had phrased it this way - "anw. brian is a really masculine guy who has that ept touch of feminince accentuated in him the least obvious way. he has the most gazeful eyelashes a guy will ever have..." i would have felt better assured of my male-ridden humanity. to me, insecurity is a flaw of unspeakable boundaries.&lt;br /&gt;but i'm kinda used to the long eyelashes thing already. haha. just the other day jyan passed me a rubber band to see if it could hang. gay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;friday night was a disastrous waste of eight dollars and an overestimation of ac's got talenttt. not in the position to elaborate, since i'm not much of a talenttime puppet myself, but i've gotta say, billie jean saved the day. i'm totally hooked on the song. michael jackson's the KOP. i love his high tenor threshold that makes patricksum's singing sound like wayward bass tones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-7079432315776894187?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/7079432315776894187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=7079432315776894187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7079432315776894187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7079432315776894187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#7079432315776894187' title='billie jean'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2262712955968003357</id><published>2008-05-08T22:11:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T23:08:53.391+08:00</updated><title type='text'>iron man is the bomb</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;for tonight, i shall write a simple-minded "what i did today" post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was funnn. didn't go to school in the morning. went to roxy square to get my hair cut instead. then waited an absurd 20mins for bus 14. slept throughout the whole ride to school. strolled in by the back gate, crossed oldham wing, and guess who's the first person i see? -the one i hope to dream of every night. walked into the voiddeck feeling hair conscious. bought a bottle of ice milo as usual, and proceeded to the library while waiting for physics tutorial to end before joining the rest of class for math lecture. first time i'd been to the library this whole term. the 'finally' fixed aircon felt good. a boring LT1 experience was followed up by econs tutorial. great laugh hearing hashimali telling himself to "chill, chill". lunch came, and i ate omelette w rice. for the 30th time already? wanted to eat chicken rice but jumped out of the queue after remembering that maggots were found in the chicken rice stall food recently and told my classmates(but that was after they had bought their meals already) and went on describing minute gory details to further WHET their appetite. lo and behold, i unknowingly knocked over my now-refilled-with-water-milobottle and clumsily spilled water everywhere. math lesson by sivam was heartfelt enlightening, so i feel guilty for trying to lie to her about a squash meeting after school to get early dismissal. actually i was rushing for the nonexistent 4.50 ironman show at cineleisure. resorted to taking cab, but turns out it was a total waste of money cos there was a 5.15 timing. still had a fantastic 5people og outing anyway. absolutely ownage show. can't wait for the sequel to come out. ended off with dinner at burger king. where we got free upsizes to our value meals courtesy of M1. unfortunately for me, or rather the person sitting across me, i knocked over my drink again, and this time it was sprite and all over her file. took bus 16 home with one of my ogmates. talked about everything under the moon on the way back. indulged in a munchy donut on the walk home. now i'm here at my computer typing out my stupid life story while there's chem assignment to be done. i feel like skipping school tomorrow, but simply can't miss the chance to take the 9.50 lift....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate blogging like that. it's simply retarded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2262712955968003357?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2262712955968003357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2262712955968003357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2262712955968003357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2262712955968003357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#2262712955968003357' title='iron man is the bomb'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4472830435227029220</id><published>2008-05-06T23:17:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T20:28:46.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i bit my chin! ouch-</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;"people don't like to hear good feelings, they want to read about the gossipy bad stuff and the underlying disdain they hold for others".... fine, i shall bitch about someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here goes:-&gt; omg. that idiot from my class thinks he's damn cool, everday blue slip here blue slip there, pon class like free, got time also don't wanna do pw, bloody hindrance to the group, fail all his tests but still try to act like some smart alec, everytime slack during pe while the rest has to wait in pushup position for him to get changed, has the personality of a cocky bastard, ego the size of acjc viceprincipal, talk also must talk like some big-ass hot shot(C'MON, who wants to hear about your loser lame life), put legs on table like chao-ahbeng, sleep during chinese lessons, spill water during lectures, try to be buddybuddy with everyone in class, suck up to teachers, sit on the pokey-fence trying to be a neutral party. hope his balls end up getting squished. he's just a two-faced attention-seeking scrawny-shit-chin-biting hypocrite la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha. i love talking about myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4472830435227029220?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4472830435227029220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4472830435227029220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4472830435227029220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4472830435227029220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#4472830435227029220' title='i bit my chin! ouch-'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1154449393263556937</id><published>2008-05-02T00:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T13:47:25.143+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>she</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;she&lt;/strong&gt;;&lt;br /&gt;makes me smile stupidly to myself&lt;br /&gt;'s the girl i can't look straight in the eye&lt;br /&gt;enters my dreams as she likes&lt;br /&gt;'s got me feeling as though everything is right in the world&lt;br /&gt;confunds me with an extrapolation of love alphabets&lt;br /&gt;'s what happens when music makes love with light&lt;br /&gt;fills my life with colours&lt;br /&gt;'s the amplified version of "killing me softly"&lt;br /&gt;completes me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1154449393263556937?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1154449393263556937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1154449393263556937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1154449393263556937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1154449393263556937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#1154449393263556937' title='she'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-113816446506775628</id><published>2008-04-26T19:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T19:53:54.394+08:00</updated><title type='text'>september babies are....</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;I open an email titled: &lt;em&gt;What baby are you?&lt;/em&gt; and it gives a brief general analysis on January to December babies.. out of curiousity, i scroll down to September to check out mine. lo &amp;amp; behold, what do i see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-SEPTEMBER-&lt;/div&gt;Active and dynamic. Decisive and haste but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic.Consoling, friendly and solves people's problems.Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Usually you have many friends. &lt;strong&gt;Enjoys to make love.&lt;/strong&gt; Emotional. Stubborn. Hasty. Good memory. Moving, motivates oneself and others. Loves to travel and explore. &lt;strong&gt;Sometimes sexy in a way that only their lover can understand.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-113816446506775628?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/113816446506775628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=113816446506775628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/113816446506775628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/113816446506775628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#113816446506775628' title='september babies are....'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2203368360382009230</id><published>2008-04-24T23:02:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T19:26:37.718+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>a rush of blood to the head</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;since season began, i've been having reach-home-at-10-oclock-nights. so for me, today was another dead day, especially since i didn't see the one and only star in my universe. but maybe that's a good thing, cos when her bright light shines for me, epinephrine is released from the adrenal glands and when secreted into my bloodstream, it rapidly prepares my body for action in emergency situations caused by triggers that may be due to threatening, exciting, or environmental stressor conditions. The hormone boosts the supply of oxygen and glucose to the brain(that's why we feel happy on high at the same time) and muscles while suppressing other non-emergency bodily processes. It increases heart rate and stroke volume .... Heck. what matters now is that i've solved the mystery of why my heart races whenever i see her, and that's because she's the one that pulls the trigger. if there was competition for heartbeat racing, i know i'd win every time. with her, there'll be no false starts. however, all in all i end up dying earlier as producing adrenaline uses up life force and results in a shorter life span. so i'm still dead anyway. life is bleak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2203368360382009230?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2203368360382009230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2203368360382009230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2203368360382009230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2203368360382009230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#2203368360382009230' title='a rush of blood to the head'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-7596103676417010105</id><published>2008-04-20T21:41:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:19:59.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>define love.</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;people say that it's not money that makes her world go round, yet she empties your wallet by the $pound$. you don't find love, but love finds you, or rather, love fines you, costing you a broken heart in &lt;strong&gt;some&lt;/strong&gt; unfortunate situations, an illegitimate child in &lt;strong&gt;very&lt;/strong&gt; unfortunate situations, and a lifelong enagagement(aka financial) debt to your spouse in &lt;strong&gt;i'm-extremely-sorry-to-hear-you're-married&lt;/strong&gt; situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I can't find/be with anyone who is of the standard I'm looking for, I'd rather not be with anyone at all" So even if it means staying a nun for the rest of your life, it's better than wasting both of your lives right? - that's what she says. &lt;strong&gt;HER&lt;/strong&gt; personal opinion. haha. joke. all jc girls are desperate. don't kid me.&lt;br /&gt;well, let me change that to: So even if what it costs me is staying bankrupt for the rest of my life, it's better than spending money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tell me, how can you profit if you don't invest? enlighten me, why are there so many entrepreneurship risk-taking rags to riches stories?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cmon, what's the point of waiting for the perfect guy. be proactive. don't just react. love him though he has his flaws, and help correct them. &lt;em&gt;you spend, not waste.&lt;/em&gt; the bad thing about mr right is that when he starts showing his liabilities, u begin to regret having chosen him. and that's when u'll see, u definitely are, definitely are, indefinitely desperate. fyi, when a person likes something or someone, he/she wants to be surrounded by that special someone/thing 24/7. so don't blame me for nothing, or rather, don't blame her. PLEASE don't tell me i'm a wet blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw it's just &lt;strong&gt;MY&lt;/strong&gt; personal opinion. not trying to pick a fight or anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-7596103676417010105?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/7596103676417010105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=7596103676417010105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7596103676417010105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7596103676417010105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#7596103676417010105' title='define love.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1501632878392377527</id><published>2008-04-18T23:43:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T13:48:44.745+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what's the boy word for slut?</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;when something goes wrong, you can turn over a new leaf, or you could branch out to greater things, and maybe even plant a few seeds. but when your marriage doesn't work out, you can't just sign a bunch of divorce papers and find a new girl. you've got to sacrifice, and reach out to her. maybe you've got to perform better during rehearsals, and procreate with a purpose. hopefully no accidents will occur beforehand along the way, and there'll be a happy ending- possibly in a few years time, one of you will be reading bedtime stories of your pre-marital love life to your 10 yearold kid. and she'll say, 'Dad, I can't believe you drank... and smoked... and was such a slut... But I still love you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;definitely, maybe. - from one perspective, we can say that it's a really bad show that showcases the oh-so-hollywood decay of the moral values of society and the declining emphasis that sex&amp;amp;marriage is sacred, in the context of the 21st century. yet from another point of view, it helps awaken ignorant people like me who takes their parents for granted and have never really sympathised with the plight of young children suffering from broken marriages. (apathy is a terrible thing) or you could just treat it as a mere guy's-point-of-view-chickflick-movie and have a great laugh at the main character's miserably pathetic love life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;so in conclusion, what's the boy word for slut? &gt;&gt;hero.&lt;br /&gt;"sadly the world is in a state where guys who can lay more girls are glamourised. where as on the opposite end of the spectrum girls who do the same are labelled cheap...sluts...and whores."-&lt;em&gt;gabbyseow&lt;/em&gt;. embarassing ain't it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1501632878392377527?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1501632878392377527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1501632878392377527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1501632878392377527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1501632878392377527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#1501632878392377527' title='what&apos;s the boy word for slut?'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-5286787946582052009</id><published>2008-04-16T23:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T13:19:57.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm so sleepy i could die</title><content type='html'>the &lt;em&gt;dawn is breakin&lt;/em&gt;(ahem..), it's early mornin,&lt;br /&gt;my bio clock's dyin, but time is tickin.&lt;br /&gt;already i'm so sleepy i could die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all my bags are packed, acj's beckonin,&lt;br /&gt;can't be late, kyaw saw lynn's waitin,&lt;br /&gt;already i'm so sleepy i could die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So kiss me and smile for me&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that you'll wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Hold me like you'll never let me go&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again&lt;br /&gt;Oh, babe, I hate to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow's thursday, gp package testin,&lt;br /&gt;i'm not studyin, rather be bloggin,&lt;br /&gt;already i'm so sleepy i could die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chem spa's arrived, acids alkalines a-mixin,&lt;br /&gt;mrs yeong's watchin, it'll be pressurizin,&lt;br /&gt;already i'm so sleepy i could die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So kiss me and smile for me&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that you'll wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Hold me like you'll never let me go&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again&lt;br /&gt;Oh, babe, I hate to go&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-5286787946582052009?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/5286787946582052009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=5286787946582052009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5286787946582052009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/5286787946582052009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#5286787946582052009' title='i&apos;m so sleepy i could die'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4216031183840189407</id><published>2008-04-13T23:49:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T11:46:37.144+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>sigh with a smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Ideal situation.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SAIrsW2tfqI/AAAAAAAAAAY/PJmzglgiRis/s1600-h/hahaah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188757761733525154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SAIrsW2tfqI/AAAAAAAAAAY/PJmzglgiRis/s320/hahaah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In Reality...&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SAIspm2tfrI/AAAAAAAAAAg/bm-PAx6rwBY/s1600-h/hahah2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188758814000512690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SAIspm2tfrI/AAAAAAAAAAg/bm-PAx6rwBY/s320/hahah2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i sigh(with a smile). I get a kick every time I see her standing there before me. I get a kick even though it's clear to me that she obviously does not adore me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4216031183840189407?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4216031183840189407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4216031183840189407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4216031183840189407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4216031183840189407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#4216031183840189407' title='sigh with a smile'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SAIrsW2tfqI/AAAAAAAAAAY/PJmzglgiRis/s72-c/hahaah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2766050013111682366</id><published>2008-04-12T22:27:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:07:17.913+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my retarded self'/><title type='text'>you don't have to be a superhero. just someone's hero</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;it sucks to be horrifyingly sick, and blame the whole world when things don't go my way. it is so easy to make excuses, as there are an inifinite could-have reasons why things went wrong. however, i've realised that whenever i voice out my complaints, whatever i say will fall on my own deaf ears. so there's no point in faulting anyone else, but myself.(then what happens when these pessimistic feelings bottle up and take a depressing toll.. like how it is now) i've had enough. &lt;strong&gt;i want to correct my imperfections&lt;/strong&gt;. the will is there, so WHY AM I FIGHTING A LOSING BATTLE? i tell myself to think positively, yet somehow i just can't concentrate. i resolute myself to do something, but i'll end up forgetting my purpose. i'm such a loser. and i hate to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;what's holding me back? why cant i unleash the talent? why can't i have the ability to manipulate time&amp;amp;space, move at superhuman speed and be that man of steel? they say you don't have to be a superhero. just someone's hero. we can do no great things, only small things with great love. then why do humans, insignificant beings such as myself, try to live up to everyone elses expectations? why do we want to be the greatest and best? why do we feel the urge to want to stand out sometimes? why do we demand respect? why do we ask so many questions? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;had a hot date with my squash racquet today. but things went awry. i played the game wrong. i didn't employ enough tact. maybe i didn't try hard enough. i missed the sweet spot. the ball didn't connect. i timed my strokes badly. and now, the frame of our relationship has collapsed. and we've decided to break up. or rather, the racquet broke. and now i have to get a new one. and that'll cost me. owning a squash racquet is like having a girlfriend - you could say it's isotopic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh. squash is an enigma. why do the courts appear so small from the outside, yet one step through the door makes you feel like you're upsizing that pathetic student's meal you buy from mcdonalds?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2766050013111682366?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2766050013111682366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2766050013111682366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2766050013111682366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2766050013111682366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#2766050013111682366' title='you don&apos;t have to be a superhero. just someone&apos;s hero'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-423171358886428423</id><published>2008-04-09T22:23:00.019+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:27:23.495+08:00</updated><title type='text'>physics lectures take a toll on my sanity, it's not a theory-</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;'its not what someone says about you that changes the general public's impression on you, but how you respond to that certain comment that changes the image on you viewed by others.'-(absorbed from gab's philosophy on social synthesis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, at the end of the day, it's about how you view yourself as the man in the mirror, and whether you're able to look into your own eyes and say, "that's me". Being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you and your relationship with yourself, your family and your friends. So do what your heart tells you to, for life is about the senses, about the touch and about consistency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;physics lectures take a toll on my sanity...&lt;br /&gt;somehow i imagine myself in the lift, with apparent weight support. something goes wrong and the lift starts free falling with gravitational acceleration of 9.81m/s^2, from maybe 10 storeys up? i desperately cling to the railing. when the lift crashes at the bottom, i fight the relative impulse and the law of conservation of momentum to forcefully jump upwards in order to neutralise the downward inertia[which in effect, is impossible]. at the same time, the lift's mechanical system explodes(i imagine a rising explosion), so i lean towards the side with my back facing the charring flames. i continue clutching on to the railing support, with my back dearly burnt. But what happens next if it turns too hot, and i can't hold on further? will i allow the heat to sizzle into my palms, or let go and be devoured by the fire? then help arrives, and my rescuers-to-be throw down a rope for me to climb to safety. but what if the rope snaps halfway up? finally, i can only imagine my body landing on the floor of the lift in a dozen awkward obscene positions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;self-inflicted &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;paranoia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;? or is it just lek bee hoon ..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-423171358886428423?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/423171358886428423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=423171358886428423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/423171358886428423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/423171358886428423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#423171358886428423' title='physics lectures take a toll on my sanity, it&apos;s not a theory-'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1303012400530873396</id><published>2008-04-05T23:42:00.015+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:26:30.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 dollars is alot of money.</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;not much inspiration nowadays. must be the barber's fault. i quote my dumbblonde friend -"cut hair till no hair left then end up also no brains left..(and she starts laughing in the most awkward fashion -&lt;em&gt;an inhaling laugh instead of the usual exhaling opposite)&lt;/em&gt;". how logic-defying she is. BUT, does a trip to the barber really make a difference in the way we think? at least for guys, usually it'll feel like there's a load off my head; both in the literal and thoughtful sense. Cos as i bounce around in the court, i feel lighter, as if i'm wearing nike-&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;air&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; shoes, but this time it's called no-h&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;air&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; instead. [random fact: now you know where the term &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;air&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;head comes from]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember wearing braces to training for the first time 2 months ago. "extra metal too heavy lah... weight pulling me down, can't run!". yet today with less mass on me, i still lost my match against yx. and now i owe him a lunch, instead of what could have been- the privilege and supersexual honour of wearing the ac squash captain badge for a week. now i feel stupid. maybe a haircut does make one less smart. the missing hair seemingly brings about a turmoil of absent memories. like shaving off brain cells. not only do i see things in different light now, i feel so "fresh"(-quote lauren) that it's like a reboot of the mind, a brand new system startup with absolutely no programs installed at all. but maybe last time can't see cos long fringy hair blocking the light. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna join students council. not. dunno. maybe. contemplating it.&lt;br /&gt;even if i'm a nominee. will i get voted in? will i deserve to be in it? will i want it? will i enjoy the responsibility part?(or end up like a senior who got sacked in the fight club incident)&lt;br /&gt;what are the benefits. advantages. perks. A year of funnnn and like a lifetime of friendship?&lt;br /&gt;at the exclusively cheap cost of $5. hmm. shouldn't they be paying councillors for their service?&lt;br /&gt;plus, one has to go through a 300 word self-essay, 30 minute interview and 144000 seconds of campaigning?&lt;br /&gt;plus the only stylish reason to join council is that it makes u feel and look good about yourself. and u get to wear those goody2shoes.&lt;br /&gt;anyway, something for you people to laugh about: before coming to jc i thought council was referred to as counsel(totally off-meaning). haha. councillor vs counsellor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;zz. why the hell am i wasting time here when i've got a gp essay and chinese compo to take care of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1303012400530873396?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1303012400530873396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1303012400530873396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1303012400530873396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1303012400530873396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#1303012400530873396' title='5 dollars is alot of money.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2220319686269157688</id><published>2008-04-01T22:04:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T19:29:27.190+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>countdown to april 7th twentyoeight. 6 months before she graduates. so what.</title><content type='html'>As i eat takeout fried rice, think about what to blog for april fool's, drinking what i thought was orange juice at first (but turned out to be carrot juice), my mind turns blank. not that i'm not typing out anything or what, but all i'm shooting is blanks. dear cupid, if you're for real, you've gotta lend me one of your arrows. Cos so what if she knows my name, if she doesn't know me. so what if she tastes the chocolates, if she hasn't tasted what it means to know me. so what if i see her, if she doesn't wanna see me. so what if i think of her, if she thinks nothing of me. so what was the armageddon of embarassment for? so what was it worth? all that ammo intrinsically targeted at her have just richocheted off the vantage point and fired back at me. all i've changed is the way i think she looks at me, and the increased number of backflips my stomach makes when that happens. she doesn't need a timepiece to enchant me- her hips, her thighs, i'm already hypnotised. 6 days left, 6 months before she graduates. there's just not enough time. i ask myself what's with all the usual lovesick acronyms and overflowing anti-endorphins,. why am i bathing in selfpity again? why is my life such a turn off? goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2220319686269157688?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2220319686269157688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2220319686269157688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2220319686269157688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2220319686269157688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#2220319686269157688' title='countdown to april 7th twentyoeight. 6 months before she graduates. so what.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-2813598523184381249</id><published>2008-03-30T15:21:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T19:37:16.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>depression cured.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The most destructive habit is Worrying&lt;br /&gt;The greatest joy is Giving&lt;br /&gt;The greatest “shot in the arm” is Encouragement&lt;br /&gt;The greatest problem to overcome is Fear&lt;br /&gt;The most effective sleeping pill is a Peace of mind&lt;br /&gt;The most crippling disease is Excuses&lt;br /&gt;The most powerful force in life is Love&lt;br /&gt;The most incredible computer is The human brain&lt;br /&gt;The worst thing to be without is Hope&lt;br /&gt;The deadliest weapon is the Tongue&lt;br /&gt;The two most powerful words is "I Can"&lt;br /&gt;The greatest asset is Faith&lt;br /&gt;The most worthless emotion one can experience is Self-pity&lt;br /&gt;The worst thing you can lose is Self-respect&lt;br /&gt;The most satisfying work is Helping others&lt;br /&gt;The ugliest personality trait is Selfishness&lt;br /&gt;The most beautiful attire is A smile =)&lt;br /&gt;The most prized possession is Integrity&lt;br /&gt;The most contagious spirit is Enthusiasm&lt;br /&gt;The most powerful communication is Prayer&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;The most important thing in life is God&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;credits to &lt;strong&gt;Bob Hansen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-2813598523184381249?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/2813598523184381249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=2813598523184381249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2813598523184381249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/2813598523184381249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#2813598523184381249' title='depression cured.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-8535408505959445884</id><published>2008-03-28T20:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T20:28:57.137+08:00</updated><title type='text'>cracked.</title><content type='html'>i played the worst game of my life today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-8535408505959445884?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/8535408505959445884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=8535408505959445884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8535408505959445884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8535408505959445884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#8535408505959445884' title='cracked.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1880185828241851711</id><published>2008-03-23T15:29:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:08:14.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'>just hit that damn button</title><content type='html'>my priorities should be this way: God&gt; studies&gt; squash&gt; girl.&lt;br /&gt;yet my perplexions are aligned in this order: girl&gt; squash&gt; studies&gt; God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like a sinner. i feel stupid. i feel pressurized. i feel like giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i wish i could just drop everything, and maybe tell God, to let me just quit life altogether. i'd say, "hey God, whasuppwiddat?? are u gonna stop playing around with me or could we just hit the restart button already?..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1880185828241851711?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1880185828241851711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1880185828241851711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1880185828241851711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1880185828241851711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#1880185828241851711' title='just hit that damn button'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-9057317911532626603</id><published>2008-03-21T21:51:00.021+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T19:31:21.758+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>it is a good day to die.</title><content type='html'>GOOD FRIDAY. wow!&lt;br /&gt;kneeling down and holding up the cross for the congregation to venerate Jesus, really was my way of "dying" for Him today and "repaying" His incomparable love. knees sore, arms numb, muscles punctured... the sacrifice, reanacting the passion.(i think that made up for the squash training i missed today-or even more) haha. why on earth did i volunteer to do it... well, at least had a great laugh watching some people kiss Jesus all over the place, then bump their spectacles against the cross when they bend over, some even headbutting Him on accident.. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;today, by obligation, we catholics must fast and abstain from meat.. but who knows, maybe got loophole in the system- to fast means... to eat fast food! and when my parents tell me to eat half-full meals only, after breaking fast.. i go to parkway parade to glutton up fishball noodles, carrot cake, medium-double flavour scoopz ice cream -rum&amp;amp;raisin + cookies&amp;amp;cream. the divine succulent taste of heaven.. and there's nothing wrong with eating all this cos technically, i'm not full yet =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;back to more serious talk.&lt;br /&gt;why is it so hard to follow Jesus's example, even in less magnificent things? why do i fear going on stage by myself even when i want to be part of it? age, good looks, the desire and drive to play the leading part... i don't lack any of this. Jesus went on stage by himself, why yes He went up on the cross and suffered ultimate humiliation and rejection, even though any sane or innocent man would never do this. &lt;em&gt;so i tell myself, when she's right in front of me, am i going to give up my wish to get on stage? if i really like her should i be more benevolent? anyway how big a difference is our ages? it's enough to be hesitant to tell. in society and in reality, it's not an impossible relationship. so i shouldn't be backing down or hesitating should i? isn't that just my skill, just doing things carelessly?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seresly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;and i was told i'm antisocial yesterday. "you always sit in the corner or sth.." - quote my classmate(not to mention she's yet the girl who knows less than ten people in class). i told her she needed therapy. she got pissed and said she wanted to kill me. and i went ' haha, it'll be damn funny cos u're so small and when your face turns red and explodes with anger, i can just imagine you charging at me with a knife but i'll just push you away :p '&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;omg. screw depression. i feel like i'm dead already. listening to songs like, sorry,blameitonme by akon and cinderella by steven curtis chapman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-9057317911532626603?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/9057317911532626603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=9057317911532626603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/9057317911532626603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/9057317911532626603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#9057317911532626603' title='it is a good day to die.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1252151033333638029</id><published>2008-03-14T23:17:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T22:08:14.432+08:00</updated><title type='text'>birthdays, in my opinion...</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt; makes him so special, that he gets to have the pleasure of having all of us gathered at midnight, to spring a birthday surprise just for him?.. causing me to sacrifice the beauty sleep that i so desperately needed for training the next day. &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; all the hectic rushed planning and commotion? &lt;em&gt;how&lt;/em&gt; do his friends who bothered coming down to the east area from bishan(by taxi, having to suffer the midnight cab fare) benefit? &lt;em&gt;where&lt;/em&gt; in the world, do all these birthday celebrations and partypooping lead to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;“Birthdays”, in my opinion, is a weapon used by ignorant people to assume their identity. This often leads to questioning, “Do Birthdays portray the true significance of that special someone?” However, the answer to that has always been erradicated and cast over with a shadow of doubt. To each his own. But one thing's for sure - since the dawn of time, birthdays have been subject to abuse over millenia by people for a day of domination. They can bend facts to make it right, exaggerate a rumour that did not exist, and contradict the people whom they give obligatory respect to over the next 364 days. Such an imbalanced perspective thus results in a dissatisfied and disorientated society. This popular form of selfishness throws its weight around by justifying itself with the common misnomer - "for the whole year round i've monopolised my life for the world. now that it's my birthday, shouldn't i enjoy some degree of appreciation and let the world live me instead, just for ONE day?" The mindless people who conform to that majority are naturally narrow-minded, but then again, since when have Man been created flawless? However, perspectivewise, what other great way would there be for men to celebrate, marvel and awe at the mighty hand of God's most undisputedly phenomenal creation- the gift of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha. sorry for posting this. it's totally irrelevant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1252151033333638029?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1252151033333638029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1252151033333638029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1252151033333638029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1252151033333638029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#1252151033333638029' title='birthdays, in my opinion...'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3264619245033495968</id><published>2008-03-13T22:41:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:42:13.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TAITI, violence, and gore.</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;dear me, college girls are so unbecoming and unladylike nowadays. tonight, i can finally proclaim that i've had a near death experience. it all happened in a split second. 3 guys, 1 girl, 1 bed, poker cards (start imagining the scenario)...&lt;br /&gt;suddenly!&lt;br /&gt;girl wins game,&lt;br /&gt;guy pissed,&lt;br /&gt;guy pushes girl,&lt;br /&gt;girl loses balance,&lt;br /&gt;girl falls,&lt;br /&gt;girl grabs onto nearest pillar of support,&lt;br /&gt;girl finds nothing,&lt;br /&gt;girl waves arms in air frantically,&lt;br /&gt;I AM SITTING NEXT TO GIRL,&lt;br /&gt;girl topples,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ONTO ME&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HER PLUNGING ELBOW&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(layered with massively compiled adrenaline-pumped brute force)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; LANDING&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;MILLIMETRES AWAY FROM MY STRONGHOLD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;phew!&lt;br /&gt;things could have turned out worse if not for my lightning fast reactions and superhuman reflexes. thank God.,, lucky for me, still more fathers day to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3264619245033495968?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3264619245033495968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3264619245033495968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3264619245033495968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3264619245033495968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#3264619245033495968' title='TAITI, violence, and gore.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-8646150215515534096</id><published>2008-03-11T01:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T00:25:16.385+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's mine, it's all mine!</title><content type='html'>WOW.&lt;br /&gt;After months of ultimate persuasion and convincing and conniving and arguing with my parents why my brother could have one at the tender age of 13 but i couldn't(maybe they foresaw the 4As he ended up achieving for alevels. hmm...), why my sister -who scored a meagre 14 for olevels- was given it without having to undergo any of the siansation of a whyishouldhavemyown debate with my parents(while i scored a singledigit 9), i finally, am now, the chauvinistic, the proud, the high and mighty, owner of my own sophisticated, staggeringly sexy and savy computer. HELL YEAH! i am in lalaland, over mt everest, walking on thin ice, never like before. i am so happy!..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;but what is happiness? Is it the feeling you experience when u nick a shot? Or win the extremely hard-fought match that physically drains you? Or when you're solving that incoherently difficult problem and inspiration comes in the form of an apple dropping on your head? Or is it the pat of encouragement or congratulative handshake you receive when you ace your tests? Or when you break someone's window by accident on a wild night out with your homies and run away crazily laughing, panting and wasted? Or when it's your birthday, get royal treatment from everyone and your body practically oozes with importance? Or when you have the beauty that makes you popularly rated as one of the seven wonders in school? Or when your crush deftly glances at you for a moment, briefly makes eye contact, then turns away flushed in the face, leaving sparks of electricity dancing in the atmosphere and jumpstarting voltages of pressure crushing your heart? Well, this is happiness at the surface and shallow-end. We can only swim across the drowning whirlpool of happiness when we disregard our own safety or achieve selflessness.. So what gives? Give happiness. True happiness is in making happy memories for your loved ones so that they can feel 100% satiated around you, or being spontaneously generous to all the beggars you see on the street and feeling that warm, fuzzy, sensation. It comes and counts when you care more about the other party's happiness. It goes an even longer way when you wish for someone elses benefit upon a shooting star, or give up that lucky four-leaf clover for his/her fortune. Come what may, fufillment comes in the form of happiness for another person. In effect, give her flowers even if she doesn't know you. Jump in front of the oncoming speeding car to save that dumbass jaywalker's life. Carry the old lady's groceries to the 21st floor when the lift is spoiled and let your emphatatic kindness be taken advantage of. Get scolded in your friend's place for letting him copy your work.(but if he fails his exams thats too bad for him) Say hi and make friends with the nerd geek junkie that gets austrasized so badly in school. Don't feel left out when you let someone else play in your place. Stand up and offer your seat to the fatass lazy teacher you despise. Say sorry even if it's not your fault. Don't regret, don't fret. One life, live it. Even if being a loser is what it takes, be the loser that everybody loves. Don't put happiness at stake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-8646150215515534096?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/8646150215515534096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=8646150215515534096' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8646150215515534096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/8646150215515534096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#8646150215515534096' title='it&apos;s mine, it&apos;s all mine!'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-7608892217091105619</id><published>2008-03-03T19:25:00.024+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:32:01.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tantric moments of inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;wow. I'm INTP!&lt;br /&gt;Albert Einstein had it, Issac Newton had it, Tiger Woods has it, i have it, and they say that the most brilliant minds of all time have it too... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but i don't see what's so great about being an introverted intuitive thinking person. somehow i feel socially disadvantaged when i have to think before saying the right thing or end up blundering words of criticism, shortchanged during sensitive feeling moments when someone needs encouragement, and the list goes on...&lt;br /&gt;guys like me need tantric moments of inspiration to do extravagant wild retarded things(like climbing over the fence and cutting my wrist at 3am in the morning-causing a mass awakening of the entire confi camp and causing my parents to drive down to the hospital worrying like mad), while at other times we can just remain quiet pensive folks sitting by the corner waiting for an invitation to the conversation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ohwell.&lt;br /&gt;anyway, for a few days now i have been observing behavourial changes... and i am proud to say, have made vast discoveries and developed my own theory in comprehending the most-controversially-debated-topic-in-the-21st-century, The Secret to Life for Schooling Teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the seven basic rules to adhere:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - Never ever go to school light-headed or in a good mood as there will always be someone or something to spoil everything. let the small gleeful things get to you instead so that your level of happiness will rise consistently throughout the day.&lt;br /&gt;2 - always pretend to be inattentive during lectures so that you will not be bothered by friends for notes. however, make yourself inconspicuous to the lecturer so that you will appear to be listening&lt;br /&gt;3 - Never ever pull long faces at the teacher you dislike. you will be blacklisted for life. be a sucker-upper(i do not mean this with any libidinous/licentious intention.. but somehow one cant help but wonder why they call it suck-up)&lt;br /&gt;4 - always carry a deck of poker cards in case of social emergencies(thank God for this universal game)&lt;br /&gt;5 - Never ever feel that you've studied hard enough... you will fail to have studied hard enough. (ok. lame pun. let me humour myself)&lt;br /&gt;6 - always take advantage of opportunities to make new friends. but forget their names, so that you'll have something to talk about later.&lt;br /&gt;7 - work hard. play harder.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;how ingenious is that&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-7608892217091105619?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/7608892217091105619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=7608892217091105619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7608892217091105619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/7608892217091105619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#7608892217091105619' title='tantric moments of inspiration'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-6049787914026383048</id><published>2008-02-29T14:41:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T13:53:39.953+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>if i don't even know how to grasp what it takes to be a man, how'm i supposed to meet women?</title><content type='html'>Every other guy's horror really is my horror too. it is every man's horror. deny it we may, we are all afraid of women. every single one of them. men wanna be quarantined from unattractive girls they pay so much emphasis on physical beauty they're all afraid to be affected by one of these girls' inner beauty. yet how many of them will dare to say:&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Without you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, I'm as lonely as an abandoned dog on the side of a highway. I have gift anxiety, even though I don't know when your birthday is. We can spend perfect days shopping and cleaning together. I swear, I'll never make wisecracks when you scrape your tires against the curb while parallel parking. If you consent to live with me, I'll clean the toilet every week. I'll do it with my tongue if you ask. I will strike the words "hooters" and "love rockets" from my vocabulary. I'll love you. Even if your name is Mimi and you want me to pronounce it "May May". I will only pass gas underneath the covers and under the direst of circumstances. Hell, I'll go on a low cholesterol diet. And I won't buy one of those red sports cars when I hit my mid-life crisis. Your parents can come visit us every week, even if your mom is a witch with a capital B. And your folks don't have to go to a retirement home because they can come live with us. I declare, I'll separate the whites from the colors and learn the mysteries of hot and cold water washes. I'll never huff and puff while waiting for you to put on your makeup. If you're a cat person, I'll never point out the fact that a dog can save your life from drowning, but a cat can't. I will happily go see chick flicks with you, like "Pride and Prejudice". I'll make a point to trying new food like okra gumbo. I won't curl my nose at vegetables whose awful taste is disguised by having cheese on it. I pledge to always say "yes" when you ask, "Is my hair looking okay tonight?" I'm gonna bring a whole new meaning to the word "cuddle". I'll be thoughtful enough to read your horoscope every day. I'm gonna save every birthday card you send me! And I'll actually write you real letters when we're apart. I'm never gonna expect you to know where I left my car keys, and I'll never leave my socks on the floor. With me, you'll find the cap is always on the toothpaste. I'll start wearing those bikini style underwear if you like. My belly button will always be lint free. I want to full-on kiss your clitoris. It will be the most passionate, intimate experience you've ever had. I declare now, I will give my life for you. And if you fail to come to me, I know some part of me will surely die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's just everything at stake. when you're a guy talking to that beautiful girl of your dreams, you're doing it for all the marbles. you're so afraid to crash and burn, and that if you screw up, every girl after that will be a compromise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-6049787914026383048?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/6049787914026383048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=6049787914026383048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6049787914026383048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6049787914026383048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#6049787914026383048' title='if i don&apos;t even know how to grasp what it takes to be a man, how&apos;m i supposed to meet women?'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-1227397849552839382</id><published>2008-02-27T20:59:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T21:27:36.845+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how to apply economics to your daily loser life.</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;i am one of the&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;lucky&lt;/span&gt; winners to get conned $1 by the vending machine at the police academy. unfortunate right?- but if you think about it subjectively, didn't that make my h20 drink worth $2 in the end? which means that i'll treasure and savour it even more, which increases the level of satisfaction i receive from consuming it,, and successfully means that &lt;em&gt;marginal benefit&lt;/em&gt; is still &gt; &lt;em&gt;marginal cost&lt;/em&gt;. therefore did i lose out?..&lt;br /&gt;HELL YES. CURSE THAT #$%^&amp;amp;*()! VENDING MACHINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;this brings me back to reality. well life's like that. when you experience the painful joy of getting cheated, at least you know you're still alive. alternatively, you can try pinching yourself in the cheek and hope you're waking up from a bad dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-1227397849552839382?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/1227397849552839382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=1227397849552839382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1227397849552839382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/1227397849552839382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#1227397849552839382' title='how to apply economics to your daily loser life.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-4033223087657864370</id><published>2008-02-21T21:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T21:25:09.547+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaws of steel. heart of paper.</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;braces for six teeth. optimized discomfort for at least 7 months. count in the disfigured haircut. plus the depressing primal feelings for the opposite sex. say hello to frankenstein brian.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-4033223087657864370?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/4033223087657864370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=4033223087657864370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4033223087657864370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/4033223087657864370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#4033223087657864370' title='Jaws of steel. heart of paper.'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3631656363170175807</id><published>2008-02-17T18:27:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T21:32:18.961+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mussel eggs and ham...</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;starting with the squat, comes the bend over, followed by the lift, the magnificent triumph, and the...&lt;br /&gt;well anticipated &lt;strong&gt;muscle aches and ham&lt;/strong&gt;string trouble. i'm such a gym virgin. yesterday was an unforgettable moment. &lt;em&gt;oh how&lt;/em&gt; i opened the book of records and rewrote the pages of history. &lt;em&gt;oh how&lt;/em&gt; i walked in the sandals of achilles and bathed in the might of hercules. &lt;em&gt;oh how&lt;/em&gt; i never, ever, wanna, be a foreigner in the land of weights and dumbells again ..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3631656363170175807?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3631656363170175807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3631656363170175807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3631656363170175807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3631656363170175807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#3631656363170175807' title='mussel eggs and ham...'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3662665396664210180</id><published>2008-02-12T22:07:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T21:31:51.934+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>i will always remember...</title><content type='html'>'ehmust do how many ah?.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;is it an infatuation or fantasy?- thinking about her all the time then trying to disillusion her near-perfect features out of my memories but try as i might, her picture remains fresh in my mind... a drenching want to avoid uncalled obsessive feelings but the mere sight of her awakens my five senses, sends blood searing through my veins, tightens the knot in my stomach, thugs at my heartstrings, clouds my head with euphoria, ... ohGod, it's probably my 100th pretense at forgettin' her. it has failed miserably, and will fail another 100 times i suppose, with every successive attempt weakening each time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3662665396664210180?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3662665396664210180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3662665396664210180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3662665396664210180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3662665396664210180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#3662665396664210180' title='i will always remember...'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-6376043216191765193</id><published>2008-02-10T20:39:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T21:46:08.249+08:00</updated><title type='text'>catholic family controversy</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;i would like to share a very interesting conversation i had yesterday with my christian counterpart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;me: wah you finished visiting yesterday? i've been bai-nianing the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;her: uh-huh. i'm not like you. i don't have a catholic family.&lt;br /&gt;me: haha. but i get more hongbao money. hmmm, anyway i don't think contraceptives existed during my grandparents time did it&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;food for thought to the people who blame catholics for the baby boom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-6376043216191765193?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/6376043216191765193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=6376043216191765193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6376043216191765193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/6376043216191765193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#6376043216191765193' title='catholic family controversy'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-79469759394250764</id><published>2008-02-10T19:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:22:14.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'>genuinely nice hypocrites?</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;"bu hao yi si ^^!"... "bu yong jin la uncle!"... but these people still accept the hongbao in the end. -_- What on the blardy earth, i think, is, the point, of, saying, such things if you still blatantly take the money???!!! in the spur of the moment it may seem like the right and most indecently polite thing to say, but to the auntie donating to your playstation portable or prada bag fund, won't it seem egoclastically hypocritical?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, this might be just how it's supposed to be. But on one foot, the act might get even smellier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recall one very elusive young friend of mine in church - when i was about to wish one of the aunties hcny, he suddenly jumper(u noe, liike the movie?) in out of nowhere, cut me off, shook her hand and wished her first, taking the hongbao meant for me. after a brief &lt;em&gt;sincere&lt;/em&gt; thank you, he was gone like the wind in a flash. (this episode lasted for 3seconds - the &lt;em&gt;shake, take and break&lt;/em&gt; strategy) After which the auntie looked so stressed having to reach into her handbag again to take out one more angpao for me... so paiseh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;they say age does not matter, but the heart. so in my personal opinion, just as long as we remain young at heart like my shake-take-break friend, we should just keep to the end of the receiving line of chinese new year...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-79469759394250764?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/79469759394250764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=79469759394250764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/79469759394250764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/79469759394250764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#79469759394250764' title='genuinely nice hypocrites?'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3893308859828437326</id><published>2008-02-07T17:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T19:19:34.319+08:00</updated><title type='text'>cny is like...</title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;chinese new year is like &lt;strong&gt;reading a newspaper&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1: you revisit old relatives as someone's grandson/daughter one year, and the next you may be meeting new ones as an uncle/auntie(i will be expecting an expansion set of at least 3 new members to the extended family by cny '09). similarly you read the papers and get updates on past issues which talk about SG unblock &amp;amp; property prices boom galore, and the next day you might be reading up on the latest happenings such as the US economic sub-prime property crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2: furthermore, it becomes so routine and dull to meet people you are supposedly connected to, when half the guests that stride in through your doorway (like as if it was their grandfather's house - BUT technically that's kind of true if it actually is the case) are total strangers/mere aquaintances. similarly, you read up about the war in iraq (for example), sympathize &amp;amp; emphatize with the casualties &amp;amp; victims, but the effect on you is so minimal that you're not really supporting or participating in any way even though we're &lt;strong&gt;RELATED&lt;/strong&gt; somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conclusively, the only people who actually benefit from celebrating cny are the single bachelors and the youngest generation children thanks to the HONGBAO. the single ladies will never gain because all they'll gain is fat &amp;amp; KGs from overeating tidbits and splurge the money on shoes &amp;amp; dresses they will only wear once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, in the long term, the hongbao cycle will reexercise itself and nobody will earn in the end - i quote the saying, "what goes around comes around..."... hence chinese new year is just one huge complicated scam created by the ingenious chinese people[&lt;em&gt;i'm one of them&lt;/em&gt;] who intricately conjured up the legendary story of a mythical monster just to enjoy one week of holiday :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3893308859828437326?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3893308859828437326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3893308859828437326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3893308859828437326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3893308859828437326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#3893308859828437326' title='cny is like...'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-3239462580878253810</id><published>2008-02-05T22:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T21:20:59.944+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='her'/><title type='text'>why tuesdays are the best days of the week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;tuesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;s, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;void deck, 10.10am&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-3239462580878253810?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/3239462580878253810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=3239462580878253810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3239462580878253810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/3239462580878253810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#3239462580878253810' title='why tuesdays are the best days of the week'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294011108816646177.post-77915933356164107</id><published>2008-02-04T20:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:39:12.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"DD-O-I-NN-GG!"</title><content type='html'>"it's like a spring... compressed for 4 years already... now in acjc... DD-O-I-NN-GG!" - quote my hwa chong institution happy-go-lucky friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;he thinks 4 years is a long time. what about the guys like me who have had 10 years of single-ed schooling? he really hurt my feelings... humans nowadays are educated but not civilised. take my friend as an example: 17years old already but've barely even mastered the basics of human empathy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;just received a nudge from my river valley ogmate - "OI, what u doing? watching porn issit?"&lt;br /&gt;what the...&lt;br /&gt;do i look like the kind of guy that will do this kind of thing in the discretion of my room?... i tell her she has a very wild imagination, but she claims that "u all teach me one lor."...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;can't wait to go to school tomorrow. i love tuesdays. plenty of lectures... to skip. the ac library is so alluring that i will undoubtedly fall prey to the temptation of sleeping. the library has such a conducive environment for REM. they even provide cushions and beanbags for maximum comfort, not to mention the exclusive sofa set provided... as the saying goes. "sofa(so far), so good". oh yeah, i haven't even started on the void deck yet... which is why tuesdays are the best days of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;in the advent of lunch this afternoon, some random acsi dude(he was a bulky buff guy, whom i thought was gonna whoop my ass) came up and proclaimed to me straight in my face "has anyone told you that you look like some girl from another school?"... but when i ask him to clarify himself, he says nevermind... which leaves me dying curious not to find out. so when i ask the infatuatingly-rich-enough-to-pull-kelvyna's-strings acsi guy from my og, he says "maybe u so sexy until girls start to look like u"... (actually it was ".. u start to look like girl") but heck, i'll choose whichever sounds better =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow.&lt;br /&gt;my primary 4 sister pestering me to let her use the computer. she threatens to tell mummy. if not effective she complain to daddy, then i mati. oh dear, in the context of modern day family life, it's the younger sister that masterminds the blackmailing and bullying... and the other day just discussing the disadvantages of being born (the unlucky?) mr. middle of 5 children... end up cannot enjoy the perks that the oldest siblings gets and at the same time deprived of the favoritism the youngest siblings gets...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh,.. physics tutorial here i come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294011108816646177-77915933356164107?l=welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/feeds/77915933356164107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294011108816646177&amp;postID=77915933356164107' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/77915933356164107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294011108816646177/posts/default/77915933356164107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometosuckersville.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#77915933356164107' title='&quot;DD-O-I-NN-GG!&quot;'/><author><name>blee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12780094245452505905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b3g7ivQsM1k/SYB8NbhQG2I/AAAAAAAAABU/gohFV2DAyKc/S220/P231208_22.32.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
