<?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-5538007409957343652</id><updated>2011-07-31T18:41:50.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Other Side Of The Mirror</title><subtitle type='html'>Unknown. Untouched. Unfound</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>88</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2551241398947130266</id><published>2009-08-27T15:13:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T23:22:32.823+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Raindrops.</title><content type='html'>"You're &lt;em&gt;different&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could feel his glare stabbing through my back, going right through to my heart. I could taste his disdain in his tone. I knew he hated change, but I didn't expect him to hate it this much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pissed wasn't &lt;em&gt;quite&lt;/em&gt; what you could call him at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps a rhino on the verge of charging and trampling you to pieces could fit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah well," I could hear my voice going up a few octaves. I took deep breaths and mustured as much poise as one can possibly have standing in the rain dripping wet with mascara dribbling down your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Change isn't bad. And maybe, &lt;em&gt;maybe&lt;/em&gt; if you'd learn to just effin' deal with it you could see that this is for the better. Look around you, damn it. Everything's always changing. We live in a massive orb of swirling colors, people, buildings ... if you can't cope with &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; --" I pointed to myself with a little too much force than nessacary "-- then I'm sorry. But I've put up with this shit long enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I left him there, standing the rain, feeling incredibly light. Like I could jump and float like a lost balloon, up into the clouds to kiss the stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since I wrote anything and my writing's rusty. But it feels kinda good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom dragged me to find the tailor shop to sew my uniform. But like, yeah. Since mom was horrible with directions -- a gene which I, unfortunately, inherited -- we ended up driving around aimlessly until mom decided to just buy Mcdonalds and head home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called him afterwards and he sounded so .. sad and tired and like, yeah. I guess I'm a little worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2551241398947130266?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2551241398947130266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2551241398947130266&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2551241398947130266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2551241398947130266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/youre-different.html' title='Raindrops.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-524763637869606089</id><published>2009-08-26T18:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:17:44.294+08:00</updated><title type='text'>DJ, blow my speakers up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/0051.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;'Cos I ain't getting enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think dad's having some sorta mid-life crises. He just went on a RM 200 shopping spree on shirts and another RM 50 + on hair care products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah. I'm running out of things to blog about -- my social life has been as active as a pyramid of slime lately. And weirdly enough, I could care less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I &lt;em&gt;might&lt;/em&gt; venture into the world of subdomain hosting again. Wanted to apply at the site today, but it suddenly went under maintenance. Now I am inwardly slapping myself for being a procrastinator and not registering yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. I guess I should go do something productive &lt;s&gt;like, maybe study so I don't fail my finals&lt;/s&gt; before I go braindead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:bradley hand itc;"&gt;I'm scared of falling.&lt;/span&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/5538007409957343652-524763637869606089?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/524763637869606089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=524763637869606089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/524763637869606089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/524763637869606089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/dj-blow-my-speakers-up.html' title='DJ, blow my speakers up.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3265801874099541404</id><published>2009-08-25T19:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T00:17:05.301+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Baby,</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00525-20090825-2253.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3265801874099541404?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3265801874099541404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3265801874099541404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3265801874099541404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3265801874099541404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/dear-baby.html' title='Dear Baby,'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4572141495116623603</id><published>2009-08-24T09:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T22:38:39.254+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought you promised me the world.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in &lt;span style="font-family:impact,chicago;font-size:180%;color:#ff0080;"&gt;eternal love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;But baby, I believe in &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;right here, right now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. I'm going for the KC 1 gathering later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximitely: Five more hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why, but I'm feeling extremely jittery and nervous. - twiddles thumbs - Gawd, I haven't seen everyone in ages. Especially my JunJun and the sexy, sexy Brenda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling, today's gonna be a &lt;em&gt;good&lt;/em&gt;, good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back to update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;______________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;UPDATED &lt;/strong&gt;» 9:12 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched &lt;strong&gt;The Orphan&lt;/strong&gt; with the long-lost people (Brenda, Bintang, Nick, Li Jean &amp;amp; Vicky) at Signature GSC. It was so cold my lips turned purple and my hands went numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vicky &amp;amp; me kept seat-hopping since like, half the cinema was empty. And, like, yeah. I kept smothering myself with Vicky's pull-over whenver the gory slash scary bits came on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, like, yeah. It was the probably the &lt;em&gt;awesomest&lt;/em&gt; movie I've seen yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the movie, everyone charged to the bathrooms to hoard those hot air hand blow-dryer thingys there. It was kinda comical to see everyone crowding around and squashing each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we passed by this little shop full of fluffy, laced dresses and it made me go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Ofmg, ESTHER. IT'S &lt;em&gt;ESTHER&lt;/em&gt;! D: - major cardiac arrest -&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, like, yeah. Everyone left at around 6-ish, but I stayed 'till 7 or so to replenish my book stock. Hunted around in Borders to satisfy my sudden need for more chick-lit books. Bought &lt;strong&gt;Gossip Girl: All I Want Is Eveything&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Clique: Invasion Of The Boy Snatchers&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I manage to get Nightworld vol.1 for RM 29.90, which is kinda insane because it's as thick / slightly thicker than Breaking Dawn (which, btw costed me a good RM 45).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Book geek talk over -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm probably gonna go Midvalley like, every other day this week. So like, yeah. Oh, the joy of being trapped with *possible* H1N1 infects! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4572141495116623603?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4572141495116623603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4572141495116623603&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4572141495116623603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4572141495116623603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-thought-you-promised-me-world.html' title='I thought you promised me the world.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7430297499300826019</id><published>2009-08-23T18:09:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T00:22:52.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And it's obvious that you're dying while you're trying.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Right now, there's only one person, &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; person out of the billions of other people out there, whom I would do anything for, just to see the faintest of a smile playing at the edges of his lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;And I'm gonna kick some bitch-ass if anyone gets in the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a really bad stomache, which sorta kept me up 'till 4 AM. I also felt like puking but when I had my head over the toilet bowl (and mentally prepared myself for the wonderfully nose-tingling stench of vomit), nothing came out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And nothing &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; come out for rest of the morning, which left me irritable and tempted to stuff a belt down my throat and gag myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gawd.&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling sloggish since morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a KC 1 gathering tomorrow. I honestly don't know if I feel like going or not. It's been ages since I've seen everyone, last time I saw them was when we were all little munchkins graduating from primary school .. but like, yeah. I feel like being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sociopathic, much? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7430297499300826019?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7430297499300826019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7430297499300826019&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7430297499300826019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7430297499300826019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-its-obvious-that-youre-dying-while.html' title='And it&apos;s obvious that you&apos;re dying while you&apos;re trying.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7718718268345136392</id><published>2009-08-22T18:03:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T22:18:07.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight from my heart. ♥</title><content type='html'>Holidays are here.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, joy. More rotting / stoning away at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, like yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get a new phone. Mr. Peanuts is fast reaching his retirement age. But the sad thing is that if I do get a new phone, I have to think of a name for said new phone. And then I'd have to kill Mr. Peanuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, at this rate, maybe he'll just die without me doing anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been getting any signal from him and I just sent him to the repair dudes last week. I blew off $100 for the bloody repairs and Mr. Peanuts just broke down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I am phone-less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yay.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh. I'll give a cookie to whoever can guess my movie tag right :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be posting the answers tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145456'), this, 'Show movie tag ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Show movie tag ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="DISPLAY: none" id="SID145456"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Pick 15 of your favorite movies.&lt;br /&gt;B. Go to IMDB and find a quote from each movie.&lt;br /&gt;C. Post them for everyone to guess.&lt;br /&gt;D. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.&lt;br /&gt;E. NO Googling/using IMDb search functions. That's cheating, and it ruins the fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to rule my own country, I just want to pass the tenth grade."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, by the way, I'm getting married!"&lt;br /&gt;"To who?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;br /&gt;"Who told you 'bout Fluffy?"&lt;br /&gt;"Fluffy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"That thing has a name?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;br /&gt;"Follow the spiders." Why couldn't it be follow the butterflies"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;br /&gt;"[brushes himself off] Mother schmother... it's Jenova's friggin' head."&lt;br /&gt;"HEY!"&lt;br /&gt;"I will not have you refer to mother that way!"&lt;br /&gt;"YOU MEANIE! "&lt;br /&gt;"Our apologies"&lt;br /&gt;"Your ma's cool. What the hell am I saying!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;A Cinderella Story&lt;/strong&gt; (Jessica pwned)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;"There's something I've always wanted to tell you and I think you're ready to hear it. You're not very pretty, and you're not very bright. Oh, I'm so glad we had that talk."&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;br /&gt;"So none of the girls here eat anything?"&lt;br /&gt;"Not since two became new four and zero became the new two."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm a six..."&lt;br /&gt;"Which is the new fourteen." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;br /&gt;"Your aura is pulsing! Are you in the beyond? I think you are!"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure..."&lt;br /&gt;"Look at the cup, tell me what you see!"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah... well, Harry's got a sort of wonky cross... that's trials and suffering. And, uh, that there could be the sun, and that's happiness, so... you're gonna suffer... but you're gonna be happy about it..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;Twilight&lt;/strong&gt; (Jessica pwned .. again o.o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;"I only said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."&lt;br /&gt;"What does that mean?"&lt;br /&gt;"It means if you're smart... you'll stay away from me."&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, let's say for argument's sake that I'm not smart."&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.&lt;br /&gt;"No, no. No, see, this is a really shit idea. You know why? Because it's really obviously a shit idea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.&lt;br /&gt;"What did you do the last time you had big problems?"&lt;br /&gt;"Got Pregnant and ran off with the Stable Boy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Pirates Of The Carribean (Jessica pwns o.o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;"[after burning off a few of the Kraken's tentacles] Did we kill it?"&lt;br /&gt;"No... we just made it angry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohmigod. I love, love, LOVE this movie. So here's another one :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want you to search the ship and find her. Oh and, uh, she's probably naked."&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.&lt;br /&gt;"Then, on the fourth day, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, lashed 'em together and made a raft."&lt;br /&gt;"He roped a couple of sea turtles."&lt;br /&gt;"Aye. Sea turtles."&lt;br /&gt;"What did he use for rope?"&lt;br /&gt;"Human hair."&lt;br /&gt;[pause]&lt;br /&gt;"From my back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.&lt;br /&gt;"Shoot him!"&lt;br /&gt;"Cut out his tongue!"&lt;br /&gt;"Shoot him and cut out his tongue, then shoot his tongue! And trim that scraggly beard!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.&lt;br /&gt;"From now on, you'll have to refer to me as 'Sid - Lord of the Flame'."&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Lord of the Flame, your tail's on fire."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"From now on, I'm gonna call you 'Diego..."&lt;br /&gt;"...Lord of Touch Me and you're Dead." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POINTS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jessica (3)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7718718268345136392?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7718718268345136392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7718718268345136392&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7718718268345136392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7718718268345136392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/straight-from-my-heart.html' title='Straight from my heart. ♥'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3593567005400641054</id><published>2009-08-21T12:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T14:08:48.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, it hurts me too.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is your battleground.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So take your best shot at me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Blogging from notepad, will post this later. So, yeah. Don't mind the date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eye managed to swell to the amazing size of the psycho cat roaming outside, so like yeah. Mom let me skip school and I was stoned at home for the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. It's finally holidays. I'm pleased. I guess. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I'm probably gonna be stoned at home for the next week or so. Honestly, I don't really feel like going out and being with people, resurrecting my social life. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that &lt;em&gt;alot&lt;/em&gt;'s been going on.&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I just need a break away from all the shit that's been happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having time alone sounds kinda nice now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3593567005400641054?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3593567005400641054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3593567005400641054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3593567005400641054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3593567005400641054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/sometimes-it-hurts-me-too.html' title='Sometimes, it hurts me too.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-5727944256995023796</id><published>2009-08-20T22:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T23:44:01.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing spectacular. Not ever.</title><content type='html'>I was late for library duty. Again. &lt;em&gt;Oh&lt;/em&gt;, the joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were these bunch of kids from some other school -- Taman Yall (yes, I know. &lt;em&gt;Yall&lt;/em&gt;), if I'm not mistaken -- who were on some field trip touring our library.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, &lt;em&gt;our&lt;/em&gt; library.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found it kinda ridiculous that they wanted to waste an hour of their lives inside the little doom box people call a library. But, like yeah. I guessed they enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Either that, or they're &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; good shit at acting.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I have this stye in my eye now. It's really gross / painful everytime I blink. If I'm lucky, mom will let me skip school tomorrow if I act in pain really well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, like, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm rushing my GEO project right now and the bloody computer just refuses to let me finish it. Gawd, it rebooted itself so many times and I've lost &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;much work that it's not even funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right.&lt;br /&gt;I shall go and scream somemore at my tard of a computer until I feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-5727944256995023796?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5727944256995023796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=5727944256995023796&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5727944256995023796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5727944256995023796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/nothing-spectacular-not-ever.html' title='Nothing spectacular. Not ever.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1164395442036868232</id><published>2009-08-19T20:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T23:53:43.482+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Promises.</title><content type='html'>School was fine. No more firedrills, thank god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/18809005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe lent me her &lt;em&gt;Coraline&lt;/em&gt; disk, so I was pretty much elated throughout the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. Rushed home and waited for dad to come back from work so I could watch it with him, 'cos I was scared I might suddenly die of cardiac arrest -- and do some Micheal Jackson reenactment -- if I watched it alone. But apparently, it wasn't as scary as I imagined it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the power of imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still, I'm probably gonna stay away from buttons &amp;amp; needles after this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well&lt;/em&gt; ... maybe except for just one photo where I'm making a jackass of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/18809004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, no more buttons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go sleep early 'cos there're some student exchange program going on tomorrow and I've got to go for library duty earlier to slave away. How wonderful, no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1164395442036868232?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1164395442036868232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1164395442036868232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1164395442036868232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1164395442036868232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/promises.html' title='Promises.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4429120077978555022</id><published>2009-08-18T20:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T23:53:23.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Mannequins.</title><content type='html'>Woke up this morning with this dreaded feeling that today was gonna suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like, yeah. It pretty much did. &lt;strong&gt;Tashiie senses pwn.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some stupid firedrill -- which, as always, epically failed -- at the ungodly hour of two o' clock, just when the sun was at it's hottest. Ohmigod la, I thought my sweat glands were gonna burst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So like, yeah. I think we're gonna have another one tomorrow. Oh, the joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alot of other shitastic stuff happened, but I'm just not in the mood to rant / curse idiots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4429120077978555022?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4429120077978555022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4429120077978555022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4429120077978555022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4429120077978555022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/moving-mannequins.html' title='Moving Mannequins.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4597116030203752912</id><published>2009-08-17T20:43:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T23:47:38.849+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's keep this a secret, shall we.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Police scene, chalk line&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And tequila shots at the dark scene of the crime.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this huge hole at the seam of my skirt today. And I only found out like, five minutes before I was about to leave for school. So, yeah. Stripped it off and screamed like someone possessed for mom and her sewing machine :o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was .. pretty normal, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw Dau Gei cleaning out the fish pond. I laughed at him, he (purposely) bumped me and I got covered in the fish crap and other unknown pond gunk. Evil, much? :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home Economics was bloody annoying as hell. We were copying reports for all the crap we've been doing for past months (i.e: cooking chicken and sewing some fugly blouse) and &lt;strong&gt;since Chloe didn't come&lt;/strong&gt;, I had to help her copy her reports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did not help that teacher nearly asked me to recopy one whole bunch of reports 'cos I seriously am lacking the skills to write in straight lines on line-less paper. The first thing that came to mind was,&lt;em&gt; is this woman mad&lt;/em&gt;? That was like, 7 whole pages of stupid reports to rewrite in less than half an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm just glad that Chloe's coming back tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Extremely&lt;/em&gt; glad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4597116030203752912?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4597116030203752912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4597116030203752912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4597116030203752912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4597116030203752912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/lets-keep-this-secret-shall-we.html' title='Let&apos;s keep this a secret, shall we.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2604853576472191995</id><published>2009-08-16T17:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T20:07:53.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rusted .</title><content type='html'>I'd like you to meet Mr. Cubiks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought Mr. Cubiks about two days ago. And look at him now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #ccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #ccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. This only strengthens my belief that people who lack temperament control should never, &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; try out Rubik's Cube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went for Sunday classes this morning. Pity Bianca, she kept getting bullied. Ben &amp;amp; Eliott kept throwing paper balls and Aaron sounded like he wanted to rape / destroy / brutally murder her dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything went all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Until&lt;/em&gt; later tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got so pissed that I called Edrick kor to bitch again. He was the only male specimen that I know of that wasn't watching tonight's football match. Then half-way through my bitching, I screamed because I heard this weird sound outside (and also because I just watched an extremely freaky episde of Ghost Hunters &lt;em&gt;alone&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, it was some pyscho cat  running around outside and  meowing really weirdly / loudly. I don't know. So like, yeah. It's still kinda freaking me out right now because I don't want it to pee on my front door like the other cat :(.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2604853576472191995?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2604853576472191995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2604853576472191995&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2604853576472191995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2604853576472191995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/rusted.html' title='Rusted .'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3507485575012975417</id><published>2009-08-15T21:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T00:36:43.021+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm gonna shoot you down, bitch."</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/15809007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I officially do not understand people anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah. Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3507485575012975417?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3507485575012975417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3507485575012975417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3507485575012975417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3507485575012975417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-gonna-shoot-you-down-bitch.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m gonna shoot you down, bitch.&quot;'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1013464246368827251</id><published>2009-08-14T21:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T22:50:24.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>365.</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;0 More Days.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember last year's IU Day. And how how my friends kept nudging me and telling me to look at the hot guy sitting at the back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember giggling about it with my girlfriends and silently kicking myself for laughing a little too loud. I also remember my friend -- who has, ironically, known you since kindergarten -- giving me your number.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember my hands trembling when I smsed you, asking if you still remembered me. I remember feeling stupid, too. 'Cos deep inside, I thought I had next to no chance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember how my heart nearly dropped and how I nearly puked with happiness when you actually called me. And hey, I thought why not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember the next few months, as I got to know you better, I realized the inveitable was happening. Even though I got hurt really badly before, even though I wasn't even looking for it, I was falling in love with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I remember how the whole world just stopped for that &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; moment, when you finally asked me. The world started moving after I said yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was &lt;i&gt;exactly&lt;/i&gt; 365 days ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;-- Happy One Year, baby :). iLy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;_____&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, sorry for the mushy-mushyness that is seeping through my very skin and dripping all over my post. But, yeah. I'm just feeling so happy :).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saw hunnaye waiting for me at school. I gave him the ghey keychains that Shermaine helped me get (I shall post photos when daddy comes back with the smexy laptop).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talked abit, then he had to go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later during school, someone managed to spread around that "Tash's boyfriend came to school :O" and like, people kept saying "Happy One Year anni :D", etc. I swear, I think got more annivesary wishes than birthday wishes during my birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chloe didn't come to school today, but Fugu Fish sat with me during class, and sorta saved me from the fate of being alone with new kid who keeps blabbing on about Dota. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I have school tomorrow. Oh, the sheer joy of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1013464246368827251?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1013464246368827251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1013464246368827251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1013464246368827251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1013464246368827251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/365.html' title='365.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2617887248231522626</id><published>2009-08-13T22:08:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T14:27:08.008+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unspoken.</title><content type='html'>-- Reposting this because Blogger was being a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing remarkbly special happened during school. Went for library duty, talked about boyfriends, PMS &amp;amp; bitches with girlfriends and tried to tarnish Candace's innocence but failed. Meh, everything was pretty much normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came back home and rushed for tuition. I was expecting it to be remarkably ordinary slash boring, and it kinda was. Well, except for the fact that our teacher was wearing a mask and coughing like he was seriously about to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then Kiki suddenly phoned me and sorta panicked about Adrian being in the hospital. Which honestly, scared me shitless. Alynna and Ashi called him while I ferociously chewed on the piece of gum I stole from Edmund. Who knew that gum could be a good way to calm oneself in the midst of panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a series of phone calls, I found out he was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Perfectly&lt;/em&gt; fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was too tired / loved him just a little too much to be pissed at him and I was just kinda glad he was okay. So, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Tashiie senses are telling me that Kiki is sharpening her weapons of torture and screaming bloody murder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;_______________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ashi:&lt;/strong&gt; Eh, Adrian. How're you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adrian:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm in critical condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ashi:&lt;/strong&gt; Ohmigod. Did your penis &lt;em&gt;shrink&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2617887248231522626?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2617887248231522626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2617887248231522626&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2617887248231522626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2617887248231522626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/unspoken.html' title='Unspoken.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-9037094977791023113</id><published>2009-08-12T20:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T22:39:45.932+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply Because.</title><content type='html'>I'm starting to love Lily Allen ♥. Her songs are sheer genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting really fucking tired of this shit people expect me to go through. And they all expect me to go through it &lt;em&gt;smiling&lt;/em&gt; like some idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. People are so frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm seriously contemplating turning into some sociopath so I don't have to deal with anymore shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;They change, they accuse you, they aren't ever completely honest, they dissapoint you, they piss you off &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;and they don't know how they hurt you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called Edrick kor after school and just talked about my problems, his problems, how screwed up we both sorta are. It was nice, knowing that he'll always be here for me no matter how many other people he has to care for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you, kor.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;_________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; I just want him to know how it's affecting me -- wait, a&lt;em&gt;re you playing with that Rubiks Cube?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Edrick:&lt;/strong&gt; Harr? Yeah. How you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; I can hear it D:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-9037094977791023113?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/9037094977791023113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=9037094977791023113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/9037094977791023113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/9037094977791023113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/simply-because.html' title='Simply Because.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1308310639453763449</id><published>2009-08-11T22:39:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T20:21:50.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Really?</title><content type='html'>[EDITED]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because I'm starting to doubt the sweet talks.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;_____&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Screw this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything's just been so depressing lately. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I thought I knew are changing &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;for the worst&lt;/span&gt;, people I thought could open up to me and tell me stuff are hiding things from me and people who used to bring me &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; much happiness are now hurting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe being alone isn't that bad after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1308310639453763449?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1308310639453763449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1308310639453763449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1308310639453763449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1308310639453763449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/do-you-really.html' title='Do You Really?'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1619598134375230003</id><published>2009-08-10T21:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T23:18:00.472+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"You know, you could be a player if you wanted to" -- cousin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;4 more days.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Thaki-thaki's sister has H1N1. So, yeah. Thaqif's under home quarentine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God, it was so scary. I actually bought hand sanitizers and masks from the pharmacists before school. And now my hand sanitizer is *already* 1/4 empty. I just kept randomly smothering it all over my hands throughout the day, cos it felt so tingly and nice afterwards :D.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Home Economics was stupid. We're making fugly shirts out of the same cheap fabric that grandma uses for her curtains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, yeah, speaking of Grandma, I saw some old lady that looked like a slimmer version of grandma yesterday at Midvalley. It's freaky, because it sorta hit me that most old chinese ladies look like grandma. They all have the same thinning curly hair, the drawn-on eyebrows ... the wrinkles and eyebags.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm. During assembly, Miss H was talking about the ever expanding list of bloggers from our school and disgracing our school, blah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chloe was laughing like some madwoman at me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1619598134375230003?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1619598134375230003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1619598134375230003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1619598134375230003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1619598134375230003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-know-i-could-be-player-if-i-wanted.html' title='&quot;You know, you could be a player if you wanted to&quot; -- cousin'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1611968755877284473</id><published>2009-08-09T22:12:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T00:11:51.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eureka!</title><content type='html'>I am extremely happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, yeah. I won't be elaborately describing how happy I am and all those other blahs, cos I'm tired and slightly grouchy from waking up so early for sunday classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found my blackberry USB cable and now I can finally upload my camwhorings from my smexy blackberry to my &lt;em&gt;smexier&lt;/em&gt; computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. I started Vlogging (video blogging) today :). I'll be giving a cookie to the first person who can find my YouTube Vlogging account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you may begin stalking now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1611968755877284473?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1611968755877284473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1611968755877284473&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1611968755877284473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1611968755877284473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/eureka.html' title='Eureka!'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3853003063688559054</id><published>2009-08-08T21:28:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T21:48:15.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadows.</title><content type='html'>- UPDATED -&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if you think I'm being unreasonable. I don't care if I'm being narrow-minded or biased about the whole situation. I don't care if it isn't true, or if I'm just making pointless assumptions. Either way, you still hurt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I don't even give a shit on how mean I'm being. I don't even give a shit if you even know I'm talking about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I care about right now is him hurting. All I want right now is for him to smile and &lt;b&gt;mean it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;_____________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 more days.&lt;br /&gt;6 more days.&lt;br /&gt;6 more days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;6 more days.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!!!@@!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- ♥&lt;br /&gt;It all seemed to past by so fast.&lt;br /&gt;I've never had a relationship this long before. Neither have I ever started one so randomly and so fast.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;I love you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New blog layout. Took forever 'cos procrastination kept settling in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm amazed that I didn't blog for the past week, what more with own will. Mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/fugufish_bunnyrabbit.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm jealous of Fugu Fish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For having a freakishly cute moniter-cleaning Bunny Rabbit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3853003063688559054?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3853003063688559054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3853003063688559054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3853003063688559054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3853003063688559054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/shadows.html' title='Shadows.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4019796728138592051</id><published>2009-08-04T22:07:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T23:31:25.392+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Don't The Stars Just Look So Pretty?"</title><content type='html'>My aunt has cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. She is dying from this fucking lump in her pancrease. And you know what sucks the most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because&lt;strong&gt; I know.&lt;/strong&gt; I know all of this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know she's gonna die in less than five years.&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know she'll never see her nephews or nieces.&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know she might not even be there on my wedding day.&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know I have to see her in a hospital, with tubes attatched to her.&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know I have to see her hair fall off from chemo.&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know that it's one more funeral to attend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because I know the grains of sand in the hourglass are ticking away too fast, almost mocking me. Telling me I can never, &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; outrun or outsmart it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The worst part is facing her,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;knowing all this shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want this to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to wake up, laughing and crying at this stupid dream. I want to tell my parents how stupid it was, and yet how it scared me so much. How it's just impossible. How it's ridiculously impossible. I want to hear them acknowledge it -- that this is all some fucked up dream and I should lay off the sugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not ready to face this shit.&lt;br /&gt;Not now.&lt;br /&gt;Not ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4019796728138592051?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4019796728138592051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4019796728138592051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4019796728138592051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4019796728138592051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/dont-stars-just-look-so-pretty.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t The Stars Just Look So Pretty?&quot;'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1971695224911489535</id><published>2009-08-03T20:56:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T20:23:19.755+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Just Pretend It's Only You And Me</title><content type='html'>I felt oddly naked today. Stupid transparent white shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;BLAAHHH. All Hwu Ning's fault for lending it to me :'(.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention that Amanda's skirt was so effin' short. Didn't really help that the shirt was so transparent, either. I felt like some whore.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the guys staring didn't help either. Stupid pervs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew the librarian uniform could look so whore-ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe managed to collect a massive amount of belated birthday presents, which were all dunked into this giant plastic bag she dragged around. I couldn't stop laughing at the way she painstakingly made small incisions on the cellophanetape with her mathematical compass, trying not to tear the wrappers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamster was being bitchy today. Would not shut up or stop criticizing everyone when it was actually none of her effin' business. Worst part is I hate her voice. It's sounds so nasal and reaches such a frequency that I swear it might just possibly cause long-term damage to eardrums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got back more results today. I'm remarkably surprised I didn't fail KH (55%. wootz) 'cos I didn't even study shit for it. And I'm happy I got 83% for Science, even though I didn't study much for that either. Oh, and I actually passed Maths (51%, bleh) even though I didn't study as much as compared to last term (which, btw, I failed by two marks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, if I get higher than last term (which, btw, was when I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; studied my ass off) for History, I seriously might just kill myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Conclusion: studying is isn't worth shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chloe:&lt;/strong&gt; Ish. I hate it when people wrap my presents so nicely. Cos I will not tear it lo, it looks too nice :(.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; OMG. When I go home, I'm gonna re-wrap your present and put ribbons and other nonsense on it &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so I can bring it to school and watch you suffer&lt;/span&gt; &gt;:D.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1971695224911489535?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1971695224911489535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1971695224911489535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1971695224911489535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1971695224911489535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/lets-just-pretend-its-only-you-and-me.html' title='Let&apos;s Just Pretend It&apos;s Only You And Me'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7200634124862709447</id><published>2009-08-02T22:24:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T22:32:19.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bulletholes In Your Backdoor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:impact,chicago;font-size:130%;"&gt;12 more days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;New blogskin [&lt;a title="clicky." href="http://blogskins.com/info/288460" target="_blank"&gt;+&lt;/a&gt;]. Inspired by FM Static's Moment Of Truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://aimless-momentoftruth.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;LIVE PREVIEW.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in serious shit tomorrow. I don't have a frickin' hardcollar white shirt to wear for tomorrow's stupid Official Selection of Librarians ceremony. Aldkaflad;;ALDAF!!234. My last hope is for Kiki to lend me hers tomorrow -- &lt;strong&gt;and she might not even be coming.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. I have a feeling tomorrow's gonna be disastrous. akldnfalkfn;akeojlafKNLANLDA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Ignore the random spams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just worried that my head might be chopped off and be turned into one of those hunting trophies by Cik L. tomorrow. So, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom kicked me out of bed this morning for no apparent reason. Which led to me being extremely grouchy / pissed at everything for the rest of the day. It didn't help that she just handed me a mop right after and said "&lt;em&gt;Nah. Go mop house&lt;/em&gt;". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Amazingly, the itsy bisty inner goodness in me managed to stop the giant, pounding blackness that is my heart from flinging the mop at her or beating anyone else in sight (I was thinking about the annoying cat that kept shitting right outside my frontdoor. God, I swear cat shit has the worst stench ever) up with said mop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I'm yawning like mad now from this morning's little episode (shooing away said cat with said mop, and praying that it won't shit out my frontdoor again tonight) so I'm just gonna go sleep and try not to be too paranoid about getting slaughtered tomorrow. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7200634124862709447?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7200634124862709447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7200634124862709447&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7200634124862709447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7200634124862709447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/bulletholes-in-your-backdoor.html' title='Bulletholes In Your Backdoor'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-5312154198937040103</id><published>2009-08-01T20:16:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T21:19:07.213+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty Little Time Bomb</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;UPDATED //&lt;br /&gt;Uploaded previous layout onto blogskins :). → &lt;a href="http://blogskins.com/me/aimless1"&gt;!aimless&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND: yellow;font-family:chicago, impact;font-size:large;"  &gt;♥ THIRTEEN MORE DAYS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know it's still a long way off. But I'm ridiculously happy. I &lt;em&gt;can't &lt;/em&gt;wait ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Turns out I didn't go to Jessie's Kantin Day after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up with some wicked bad headache. So, yeah. Stumbled around the house trying not to topple over until I finally got my hands on the magical panadol. Felt better after sleeping for the rest of the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yeah. New layout. Not exactly pleased with it, but I was getting sick of the old one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda emo-ed around for the rest of the day. Until Jessie popped up on MSN and banished it from my system. Thank you, mah Jessie. &lt;u&gt;I love you, woman.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145456'), this, 'Show ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Show ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="DISPLAY: none" id="SID145456"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lol&lt;br /&gt;*i'm in love with japanese songs again&lt;br /&gt;*LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*o.o&lt;br /&gt;*LOL&lt;br /&gt;*im in love with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*with ... with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*adrian.&lt;br /&gt;*-.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*yes&lt;br /&gt;*[;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;*the not hot adrian&lt;br /&gt;*xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;*THE HOT ADRIAN&lt;br /&gt;*HE IS HOT&lt;br /&gt;*D:&lt;br /&gt;*EVEN JAZREEL SAYS SO&lt;br /&gt;*AND SUYIN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*the NOT HOT adrian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*AND KIKI SAID HE "NOT BAD"&lt;br /&gt;*SEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*not bad what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;* K.I.K.I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*she didn't say HOT&lt;br /&gt;*xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*he has a nice collarbone too O:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lol&lt;br /&gt;*who cares about his collarbone?&lt;br /&gt;*lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;*me&lt;br /&gt;*X:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*cos i can lean my head against it&lt;br /&gt;*HAH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*-.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tasн {‼} - i'm tired of this. 你好像要我想念你到我死位子 -.- says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*omg&lt;br /&gt;*talking about him arr&lt;br /&gt;*i don't feel that emo anymore&lt;br /&gt;*(:&lt;br /&gt;*HAHAHAHAAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jespyphang@yahoo.com says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER&lt;br /&gt;*YAY!&lt;br /&gt;*I SUCCEED!!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuning in to; Moment Of Truth - FM Static&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:bradley hand ITC;font-size:125%;"&gt;But I never knew I loved him&lt;br /&gt;'Till the day he laid his eyes on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm jumping up and down&lt;br /&gt;He's the only one around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And he means every little thing to me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-5312154198937040103?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5312154198937040103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=5312154198937040103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5312154198937040103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5312154198937040103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/08/pretty-little-time-bomb.html' title='Pretty Little Time Bomb'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6961328361207604822</id><published>2009-07-31T22:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T00:13:24.977+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want You Here.</title><content type='html'>I'm waiting for it to be midnight so I can wish my Chloe a happy 14th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was late for reharsal today. Not surprising. And apparently, Jazreel can't lend me her skirt. So, yeah. Had to borrow it from Amanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was really misreable. Edrick kor and Chloe were moodless, I was .. god, I don't know. Numb. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got back a few of my results today. I'm remarkbly surprised that I didn't fail GEO, considering I didn't study anything for it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like being alone for the weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my own little bubble. Away from all this shitastic stuff that's been happening. Maybe read a tragic book or two to somehow give the illusion that maybe things aren't so bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meh. Not sure if I'm going to Jessie's primary school's Kantin Day thingy tomorrow. Oh well. We'll see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;UPDATED: 12.00 AM&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OFFICIALLY THE FIRST PERSON TO WISH MY CHLOE HAPPY BIRTHDAY VOICE-TO-VOICE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mwahaha. In 'yo face, betches xD.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6961328361207604822?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6961328361207604822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6961328361207604822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6961328361207604822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6961328361207604822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-want-you-here.html' title='I Want You Here.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8866704153368920396</id><published>2009-07-30T21:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T00:16:13.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Still Hear The Rain</title><content type='html'>Woke up early for library duty. And of course, panicked when I heard that our Official Selection of Librarians ceremony thing is next Monday. And now I have to actually &lt;em&gt;buy&lt;/em&gt; the fugly uniform and wear it. But since I doubt the tailor can churn out my order + 20 others in a matter of two days, I'll be borrowing Jazreel's for the stupid ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brilliant.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiki was being .. just plain scary for the whole day. She planned out her life withthin fifteen minutes. And &lt;strong&gt;I mean she planned up every single bloody detail possibly imagined&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From how she wants to be single and adopt a boy;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Name of boy: Jaydrene)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To where she wants to be married&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(a: Federal Highway; b: Zoo Negara; c: A kindergarten)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ...&lt;u&gt;to whom she'll force her kid to marry&lt;/u&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kiki:&lt;/strong&gt; Tash, I want you and Adrian to get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;...what ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kiki:&lt;/strong&gt; Then, I want you to have a baby girl. Before you're 24 years old, okay? That way, my adopted son can marry your daughter on the Federal Highway :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; So you want him to &lt;em&gt;RAPE ME&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kiki:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;YES, I'LL FORCE HIM. I'LL THREATEN HIM THIS SATURDAY AT CANTEEN DAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scariest part?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She was dead serious.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Who the hell wants to get married on FEDERAL HIGHWAY? Or with diapers everywhere? OR IN MONKEY POO?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serious enough that she actually compiled a list of suitable (future) children of couples' for her adopted son. And yes. My name is still on the damned thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was kinda .. deadening. Everyone was either sick or just emo. I hate sitting up front so fucking much. Stupid Dungbeetle kept staring at me and called me out later even though I didn't really do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PJK was ..  crazy ;). Su Wern stole my shoes and I had to run barefoot after her like some pyscho. Then we were hugging each other, crying and laughing like mad idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rushed to tuition after school. My phone wasn't getting any signal again. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edrick kor called me after tuition and we just talked for quite some time ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aiya, kor, don't worry so much. If there was anything I suspected, I would tell you de la. Just blame all this on bad luck and coincidence. And thanks for worrying about me in school. I'm trying to fix things now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8866704153368920396?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8866704153368920396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8866704153368920396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8866704153368920396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8866704153368920396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-still-hear-rain.html' title='I Still Hear The Rain'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2152770323255205103</id><published>2009-07-29T20:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T20:53:28.037+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Serendipity.</title><content type='html'>Exams are finally over. I'm glad. &lt;div&gt;Now I just have to wait for Finals. &lt;div&gt;Then PMR. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, &lt;i&gt;wonderful&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Past few days haven't been much of an improvement. The guilt is just continuously swelling and threatening to drown me Tsunami style. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I'm still ... distraught over the whole thing. I honestly do not know what happened or what in particular caused this avalanche of ... hmm ... 'exhaustion'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly, I still kinda .. undecided. Well, abit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God, I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, yeah. I finally told Chloe all about it today. I figured it was about time I told her or the woman would've gotten suspicious and tortured it out of Edrick kor and later kill me for not telling her :o. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Yes, woman. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner :(. I really, really wanted to la. But I didn't want you to worry over me on IU day, 'cos I know it's special for you and .. &lt;i&gt;it&lt;/i&gt; :P. And I wanted you to be happy la. See how awesome friend I am? &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this post doesn't make sense, then you're not supposed to know (;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS; HAPPY (super belated) BIRTHDAY AMELIA :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2152770323255205103?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2152770323255205103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2152770323255205103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2152770323255205103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2152770323255205103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/serendipity.html' title='Serendipity.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8673288347697542795</id><published>2009-07-28T22:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T20:18:22.020+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm Worth Shit To You</title><content type='html'>Blogging with my dad's blackberry.&lt;p&gt;I'm technically supposed to be studying but mom's just pissing me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's delusional, the way she keeps insisting to me that I'm not putting in any effort when I'm studying my ass off. In the end, I just gave up studying all together. It's kinda disheartening hearing you're own mom basically just tell you that she think you're worth shit when you're trying so fucking hard to please her ridiculousness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just have to deal with this shit for one more day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8673288347697542795?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8673288347697542795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8673288347697542795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8673288347697542795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8673288347697542795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-im-worth-shit-to-you.html' title='Because I&apos;m Worth Shit To You'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1410019908562909417</id><published>2009-07-26T21:37:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T00:58:20.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Renassaince</title><content type='html'>Still sick. Alternated between studying and sleeping for the whole day. And I've managed to use up three and a half tissue boxes. Woke up with a really bad headache but after some panadol and sleep, I feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was really tempted to go Midvalley again but I decided to just stay home and study / rest. Dad got Macroni &amp;amp; Cheese for me, though :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exams are tomorrow and I'm unprepared as ever. Not that I really care, of course. I shall now go stuff myself with dragonfruit and pray that tomorrow won't be as catastrophic as I imagine it to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1410019908562909417?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1410019908562909417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1410019908562909417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1410019908562909417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1410019908562909417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/renassaince.html' title='Renassaince'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4641538417519147568</id><published>2009-07-25T18:52:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T21:14:54.945+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ignorance Is Your New Best Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00342-20090725-1136.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND: #cccccc; LETTER-SPACING: -2px; font-face: boldfont-family:tahoma;" &gt;with the wind in my face.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am. Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick again. Blah. Guess it was expected, since I was dripping wet for the whole day yesterday (waterballoon fights + getting dunked in that stupid dunking machine twice). Took me at least four hours to completely dry off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asides from falling sick and the general irritation at everything that comes with all sickness, I feel better today. But not completely fine. Just .. better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom was also being really nice today. I don't know if she overheard me the on the phone yesterday or if she's feeling guilty about whatever she did or whatever shit. But, yeah. It was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom brought me to Midvalley to watch Harry Potter. It was okay. Went shopping afterwards and bought this sweet, &lt;em&gt;sweeeeet&lt;/em&gt; turqoise top and an even sweeter skirt. Oh, plus another supply of shorts. Spent about RM 200 ++ today. Materialism &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; be good thearapy ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh. At least I wasn't stoned at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't bothered studying yet. Meh. I just feel so .. un-motivated. I'm probably gonna get screwed by my parents again when I get my results. But honestly, I can't give a shit right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's worth holding on after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go rest. Feeling exhausted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4641538417519147568?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4641538417519147568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4641538417519147568&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4641538417519147568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4641538417519147568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/ignorance-is-your-new-best-friend.html' title='Ignorance Is Your New Best Friend'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6019461399569587267</id><published>2009-07-24T18:58:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T20:59:02.782+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crumbling.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Imagine.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're over some godforsaken pit. .And you're only survival is the rope that you are currently clinging to. Your hands are sweaty, your arms are aching and honestly, you think it's better to just let go because you know you will inevitably lose your grip or the rope will just snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But your heart says there's hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;What would you do?&lt;br /&gt;Heart or head?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;Logic or blind faith?&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Thaki-thaki ♥.&lt;br /&gt;And Edrick kor ♥.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll blog properly &lt;s&gt;later&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Or tomorrow.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm just tired.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really tired.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to: Running From Lions - All Time Low&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And I regret not knowing&lt;br /&gt;When to put an end to all this madness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Keeps me wanting,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Keeps me wanting more.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6019461399569587267?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6019461399569587267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6019461399569587267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6019461399569587267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6019461399569587267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/crumbling.html' title='Crumbling.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2853295490985616268</id><published>2009-07-19T19:59:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T22:32:42.135+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Look At How Pretty She Falls</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image021.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling very dead today. Dunno why. Had this awful headache since morning :'(.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was supposed to go watch Transformers -- yes la, I'm probably the only person who hasn't bothered watching it yet -- with Wai Jen but mom's sick and dad's too busy to fetch me. So, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exams are two weeks away and I haven't bothered to start studying yet. Bah. After seeing my midterm catastrophe, I just can't find the motivation anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm craving for books with happy people and tragic endings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2853295490985616268?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2853295490985616268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2853295490985616268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2853295490985616268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2853295490985616268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/look-at-how-pretty-she-falls.html' title='Look At How Pretty She Falls'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2828779684529181623</id><published>2009-07-18T15:13:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T20:57:41.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learn. Try. Dare. Fight</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image017.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Updated private blog.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was kinda bipolaric. Had my happy moments but the emotional bits far outweighed that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got really hyper after St. Johns finished marching. Danced around Arena Wira with Becca, both of us giggling like mad idiots. It was fun. Not giving a shit's worth about the people staring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. But she had to run off to get ready for the awards ceremony. After that, everything just sorta slid downhill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time in god knows how many donkey years, St. Johns didn't win &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt; in the marching competition. Which led to, of course, lots of tear soaked tissue paper and hugs passed around. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't think I've ever openly cried &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; hard before. But seeing both Rebecca and Nina cry .. yeah. That was the trigger, I guess. Those two are the &lt;em&gt;last&lt;/em&gt; people I ever expected to see cry. So I sobbed with them and the rest of the drill team. Everyone suddenly felt like family -- I was giving hugs to people I barely know. But, yeah. It felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Fish, Chloe, Suyin, Suk Min, Li Jenn, Leonard and Thaqif for giving me hugs all of your shoulders to cry on :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked to Boon Boon with Becca, Chloe and Sanrick. JiaYee and Fish joined us later. I kinda emo-ed the whole way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasted RM 36 yesterday. Damn.&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You don't know how much today really sucked for me. It might be selfish of me, but all I want is you there. I'm tired of being alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Scouts,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you people did really great. If it wasn't for the time limit, I think you people would've gotten third :]. Cheer up.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image0111.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Saint Johnarians,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You people did good, okay. &lt;strong&gt;Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.&lt;/strong&gt; You people didn't lose cos you lacked skills. It was just that we didn't have much luck today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lydia was an awesome, &lt;em&gt;awesome&lt;/em&gt; commander. And Isaac and Bernard were awesome, even though they only had two or three days to learn the formations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn. Try. Dare. Fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can we do it?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:impact,chicago;font-size:130%;"&gt;YES, WE FREAKING CAN :).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2828779684529181623?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2828779684529181623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2828779684529181623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2828779684529181623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2828779684529181623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/learn-try-dare-fight.html' title='Learn. Try. Dare. Fight'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8856645933580065807</id><published>2009-07-17T19:40:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T20:04:50.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Much More Than Just That</title><content type='html'>I'm still marveling at the fact that I haven't touched the computer for a whole week. Uh, yeah. Tuition / library duty / school / parents can indeed deprive you of your cybernetting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh. My blog shall dry up &lt;s&gt;a little&lt;/s&gt; until after my tests; 'cos I'm probably only gonna go online during weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuition's been (surprisingly) enjoyable. Much, much better than school itself -- I don't have to suffer with idiotic teachers that don't know shit about what they're teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Library week is officially over and, yeah. Had to take down all the decorations and other junk today. It was kinda ... &lt;em&gt;depressing&lt;/em&gt; cos we worked so blardy hard on the whole thing only to have it last for a week. But, yeah. I guess the remaining, &lt;strong&gt;free&lt;/strong&gt; candy the library couldn't sell off compensated for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The marching competition's tomorrow and I cannot believe that I am actually going to wake up at six in the morning, go to &lt;s&gt;place of all things hell&lt;/s&gt; school and watch people march ._. . Yeah, apparently I'm just &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; lifeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 70%;font-family:impact,chicago;font-size:130%;"  &gt;St. Johns, gambatteh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Go dettol!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8856645933580065807?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8856645933580065807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8856645933580065807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8856645933580065807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8856645933580065807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-much-more-than-just-that.html' title='It&apos;s Much More Than Just That'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-187748044826461522</id><published>2009-07-10T23:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T15:43:56.968+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walls And Thearapy</title><content type='html'>Nearly died of today. I left my phone at home, the effin' tuition centre was locked and mom just drove off and left me to fend for myself. I was wondering how the fook I was gonna survive for an hour and a half of doing nothing when they finally opened the effin door. Meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skipped the whole day of school today. &lt;em&gt;Again.&lt;/em&gt; Yes, I'm sorry for ditching you Chloe. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked like I got puked out from the tornado of all things glitter. Everyone kept gaping and staring. Which kinda pissed me off. Oh &lt;em&gt;fouk&lt;/em&gt;, people. &lt;strong&gt;It's just effin' glitter.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A helluva lot of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. Ran around for the whole day like an idiot with cello-tape stuck all over me and leaving a trail of glitter behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our information boards kept toppling over. Apparently, styrofoam does&lt;em&gt; not&lt;/em&gt; have the omnipotence to make manila cards stand upright. &lt;em&gt;Nice.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have to go to school again tomorrow for another stupid meeting. God, I've been getting up so early for four days straight now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More glitter + toppled manila cards + &lt;em&gt;MUURE SPARKLEZ GLIHTERR&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-187748044826461522?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/187748044826461522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=187748044826461522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/187748044826461522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/187748044826461522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/walls-and-thearapy.html' title='Walls And Thearapy'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-817413521977102078</id><published>2009-07-09T23:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T00:30:28.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scream A Little Louder</title><content type='html'>Just got back from tuition. It turned out better than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met one of hun's mates, Allyna (not sure if I spelled her name right D;) so, yeah. I guess I wasn't that alone la. And I'll be seeing Chloe tomorrow during tuition ;). Didn't expect meeting Allyna at Pathways though. I didn't even expect to &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; meet her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, yeah. She was really nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mwahaha. I finally have a tuition mate and people there won't think I'm a sociopath &amp;gt;;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I basically skipped the whole day of classes. I was stuck in the library decorating for the stupid Library Week thing. It looked like some Styrofoam monster puked all over the godforsaken place &amp;gt;:D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My group was &lt;s&gt;kinda&lt;/s&gt; screwed. Our original layout for our kiosk epically failed and our leader is a useless asshole. So, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More decorating tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;And more tuition, of course.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how &lt;em&gt;wonderful&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-817413521977102078?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/817413521977102078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=817413521977102078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/817413521977102078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/817413521977102078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/scream-little-louder.html' title='Scream A Little Louder'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2134069060879166806</id><published>2009-07-08T21:40:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T00:24:48.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Only As Dark As You Make It</title><content type='html'>Sorry I haven't been blogging for the past two days or so. The Sims 3 is sucking my life from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to register at Pathways today. The place seemed okay. I'm starting at there &lt;strong&gt;tomorrow night.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was fine. Things are finally returning to normal. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope.&lt;/span&gt; Met our new form teacher today. He's probably gonna get shit from the guys. Hah, tough luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drowning in projects. And library week is in another two more weeks. So, yeah. More meetings to attend, more stuff to plan, blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go sleep now.&lt;br /&gt;I have library duty tomorrow morning &lt;em&gt;plus &lt;/em&gt;tuition later at night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2134069060879166806?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2134069060879166806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2134069060879166806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2134069060879166806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2134069060879166806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-only-as-dark-as-you-make-it.html' title='It&apos;s Only As Dark As You Make It'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7084245754392819414</id><published>2009-07-05T16:35:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:15:17.301+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reclusion</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;New layout.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to out some stupid dinner party now. Oh well. At least I get to see some cute eight-year old kid. His name's Christopher, if I remember correctly. Haha. Last time I saw him, I was five and he was one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah. I hit smacked myself in the nose while glowstringing yesterday. Now there's this shitass deep cut on my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is being annoying. As usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will edit later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Updated /././ 10:34 PM.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Christopher is &lt;em&gt;ten&lt;/em&gt;. Not eight. And he's was an awful lot like me when I was his age. He spent the whole time reading those &lt;em&gt;Horrible History&lt;/em&gt; books and avoiding eye-contact. Smart kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. Mom was being so psychotic while in the car. It was ridiculous. She kept bashing me and dad up. She just would not shut the eff up. And what was worst was that I was, in general, stuck in a small, moving box with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city is so pretty at night. I haven't been to Bukit Bintang in eons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate at some restaurant near Times Square. Wanted to go shopping but it was getting late. Oh well. Dad promised to bring me shopping there when he's free, though. That is, if he's &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; free. So, yeah. We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aunt Geraldine:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, I got three thousand for the stimulus package. I &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; Kevin Rudd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christopher:&lt;/b&gt; Wait .. I thought you voted for John Howard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aunt Geraldine:&lt;/b&gt; Well .. Kevin Rudd gave us money. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We like people who give us money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145456'), this, 'Show pictures ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Show pictures ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="SID145456" style="DISPLAY: none"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00253-20090705-2133.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00251-20090705-2133.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00235-20090705-1912.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00223-20090705-1839.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00238-20090705-2015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christopher looking blur. He is &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; adorable.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7084245754392819414?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7084245754392819414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7084245754392819414&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7084245754392819414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7084245754392819414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/perfectly-imperfect.html' title='Reclusion'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7535483542983101289</id><published>2009-07-04T17:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T20:06:04.862+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Go A Little Faster</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;UPDATED;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Just bruised a finger glowstringing o.o. My left index finger is swelling Dx. That was pretty fast.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image000-1.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got really pissed off this morning. Mom would not shut up and leave me the 'eff alone. She kept nagging me to wash my school shoes. Wtf. What normal person would want to wash shoes when they're feeling crappy at eight in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up with Fugu Fish Sanrick and Dominic at the park later during the afternoon. It was bloody hot. And we had to walk to 100 Yen because Fugu Fish was desperate for icecream. In fact, that's the reason he even invited me -- to eat ice-cream at 100 Yen &amp;gt;:(.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to attract cars. I nearly got run over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decided to walk to Suyin's house after watching Sanrick gorge ice-cream. HAH, I managed to find my way there, albeit with some spiritual, pyschic senses. I was following the boys but apparently they were following me o.o. Dom sorta died from heatstroke halfway there, though &amp;gt;:D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got screwed by mom for not calling her and telling her I was going off to Suyin's. Apparently, she went to the park looking for me at around 3-ish or so. &lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;/strong&gt; outings at the park, going to other people's houses (Suyin's included) and probably any other outing for about a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yipeee&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS; new private blog.&lt;br /&gt;Because I just &lt;em&gt;cannot&lt;/em&gt; trust my mom anymore.&lt;br /&gt;MSN me if you wanna be invited :o.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7535483542983101289?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7535483542983101289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7535483542983101289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7535483542983101289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7535483542983101289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/lets-go-little-faster.html' title='Let&apos;s Go A Little Faster'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-5924490386843301619</id><published>2009-07-03T22:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T06:30:58.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Over Again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stan had actually gotten me those thick battery-operated type glowsticks from the US (which btw, hurt beyond &lt;em&gt;fooking hell&lt;/em&gt;). I was frickin scared I was gonna break it and get covered with some corrosive chemical and be scarred for life. But, yeah. Jessica was kinda enough to exchange her live, Daiso type ones with me so I don't accidentally kill myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to school early for the some meeting for the Library Week thing. I hate talking to strangers. God, I hate it so badly. It's like I just clam up and act like talking will kill me. So the meeting went kinda akwardly for me. Especially since I was sleep-deprived and they kept asking me for ideas for the designs or whatever when I didn't have &lt;em&gt;shit&lt;/em&gt; any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugu Fish finally brought my Sims 3 and I'm trying to install it on the stupid Vista Box. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I swear, if it doesn't work; I will kill him :O.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed so much tonight (;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- ♥,&lt;br /&gt;I know sometimes I don't call as much as I should. I'm sorry. Don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;i love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Wah, you fast camwhore already. -- Chloe :D"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145456'), this, 'More photos ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;More photos ▼&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div style="DISPLAY: none" id="SID145456"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/Image005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-5924490386843301619?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5924490386843301619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=5924490386843301619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5924490386843301619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5924490386843301619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/all-over-again.html' title='All Over Again.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4427802177596320132</id><published>2009-07-02T20:13:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T23:22:10.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Memories I Might Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;EDITED //&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hah, better erase the evidence before she gets to this too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THANK YOU;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Fugu Fish,&lt;br /&gt;For going to whack that retard :]. And for cheering me up la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;THREE MORE YEARS TO GOOOOOO.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian,&lt;br /&gt;For being my emotional punching bag :O. Yeah, I probably went into too much details. I'm sorry, manwoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keropok ♥ Chloe,&lt;br /&gt;For calling me to check on me. Yes, woman. You are awesome :). iLy too. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;____________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was really horrible. I'd rate it a nine point three out of ten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I know you just want to save fooking face. Yes, so what if I curse like hell. So what if I'm not that perfect little girl you've disillusioned yourself with having? What if I'm just like those bitches you see on those soap-opera dramas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;The bitches that aren't afraid to stand up and scream their opinions, &lt;strong&gt;right in your ear. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bitches that aren't afraid of being different;&lt;br /&gt;The bitches that screw up.&lt;br /&gt;The bitches that know &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;who they are,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bitches that know &lt;em&gt;what defines who they are,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the bitches that embrace it.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;PS&lt;/em&gt;; I hate molesters. Go burn in hell, fags.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4427802177596320132?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4427802177596320132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4427802177596320132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4427802177596320132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4427802177596320132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/fucked.html' title='Making Memories I Might Remember'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3457155835044497225</id><published>2009-07-01T19:56:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T23:30:20.719+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because They Just Don't Know How Much It Hurts</title><content type='html'>Excuse the long post title. &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;But it's just how I feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know it would be ten times worst if I was single. But, yeah. When I see everyone together, be it gazing into each other's eyes or just laughing together or even just walking together; I can't help but feel something is missing. Like I've been thrown into this new alien world which I'm a part of, yet not quite fitting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. I'm being melodramatic. Blame hormones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I miss you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to put &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; on today. I'm just not that used to keeping it on yet. I kept grabbing my neck in school out of habit. I probably ended up looking like I kept having heartattacks every five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;-- Just lost whatever mood I had left to blog. --&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so fucking tired of the ever-expanding list of assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shrivel up and die for all I care,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;betches.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145456'), this, 'Tagged by Amelia ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Tagged by Amelia ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="SID145456" style="DISPLAY: none"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write your name, website name, and twitter username.&lt;br /&gt;Under that write your website url.&lt;br /&gt;Now write if you're right or left handed.&lt;br /&gt;Write your birthday, writing the year is optional.&lt;br /&gt;Write your favorite colour.&lt;br /&gt;Write: The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.&lt;br /&gt;Now tag anyone that you want.&lt;br /&gt;-- No one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my fugleh handwriting is now on display for the world to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/tagged.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3457155835044497225?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3457155835044497225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3457155835044497225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3457155835044497225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3457155835044497225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-they-just-dont-know-how-much-it.html' title='Because They Just Don&apos;t Know How Much It Hurts'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-5504850013053262955</id><published>2009-06-30T21:17:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T22:21:50.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imperfect Perfection</title><content type='html'>Today was .. rather &lt;i&gt;eventful&lt;/i&gt;. Not in a good way, but not exactly bad either. Sort of caught in between.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our form teacher, history teacher and two others left the school today to continue to persue further education, which wasn't really that surprising. What sane person would want to continue teaching at this crappy place given a choice?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, yeah. Michelle was planning this sorta '&lt;i&gt;surprise&lt;/i&gt;' farewell party for our form teacher (which was very, very prone to epic fail-ing since it was a last-minute thing). But, yeah. Things turned out pretty much okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Except for the fact that the guys smashed cake into Michelle's face and we had to spend thirty minutes in the bathroom helping her wash it off her hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for the fact that some idiot accidentally sprayed Chloe with water.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(MWAHAHA. I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KENA :].)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And also for the fact that Pn. Lau sorta scolded us for partying. &lt;i&gt;Booooo!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-5504850013053262955?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5504850013053262955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=5504850013053262955&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5504850013053262955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5504850013053262955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/imperfect-perfection.html' title='Imperfect Perfection'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6523678300373463516</id><published>2009-06-29T20:02:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T22:44:31.787+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Believe Me, I'm Lying</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; HEIGHT: 310px" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/IMG00048-20090619-2225.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You know things aren't going well when you don't know where your period pads are;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but your dad does.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Zhadou -.-.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was kinda screwed up. As always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I sorta (nearly) killed my mom today when I told her I wanted tuition out of the blue. She gave me the wide-eyed, &lt;em&gt;omfg-who-replaced-you-with-my-daughter&lt;/em&gt; look. After getting over the initial shock of my sudden outburst, she started to blabber about how it was about time I went for tuition, blah, &lt;em&gt;how I have not been studying enough.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to dig my nails &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; hard into my palms to stop myself from snapping some sarcastic remark and throwing my pens -- I seem to favour throwing short, long, stick-like objects at people recently -- at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom's gonna bring me to register at Pathways tomorrow. Originally wanted to go for morning classes with Chloe, but mom's against me going for morning classes. This of course, blew into some argument and now I'm refusing to make eye contact or talk to mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt it's gonna work, though, judging from how stubborn she can be. Gah. I'm bad at introducing myself and / or making friends with strangers, so I normally don't bother even trying. So, yeah. I'm gonna be all alone at some godforsaken tuition centre with everyone thinking I'm a sociopath. &lt;em&gt;Nice.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Ian,&lt;br /&gt;You are weird. In a good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thanks.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6523678300373463516?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6523678300373463516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6523678300373463516&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6523678300373463516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6523678300373463516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/believe-me-im-lying.html' title='Believe Me, I&apos;m Lying'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2498307238465352243</id><published>2009-06-28T18:19:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T21:20:19.802+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wreckage In My Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid" src="http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu352/tash365/365edited.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world outside seems scarier without you&lt;br /&gt;♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad was supposed to be back in the morning (so I could basically force him to drive me around for the rest of the afternoon) but, yeah. Life seems to enjoy screwing things up. He's gonna be back later tonight instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooo, yeah. Gonna spend another day trying to drown out the screams of demented, DotA &lt;s&gt;obsessed&lt;/s&gt; &lt;em&gt;posessed &lt;/em&gt;cousins and be stuck at home. How delightful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fugu Fish,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:impact,chicago;font-size:160%;"&gt;HURRY UP AND START DRIVING.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't do much at home. Kinda tired of facebook-ing / msn-ing and just going online in general. And there was absolutely no point in watching TV -- unless, of course, I wanted to see even more Micheal Jackson pictures. Er, no thanks. Watching nothing but picture after picture of MJ for more than three days can get tramautising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope dad comes back soon.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how long more I can last with mom's nagging and cold leftovers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- UPDATED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urbandictionary-ed my name for the sake of it. Definitely not accurate. &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. tatiana &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;female's name meaning fairy queen&lt;br /&gt;mostly the name Tatiana is for pretty girls, Tatianas are always beautiful, get a lot of attention, is usually that girl that every boy wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oh god! it's that one girl Tatiana, shes so pretty!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. tatiana &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A name usually given to females; from Russian heritage, sometimes spelled Tatyana. When pronounced mistakenly, can be said Tashayna. People named Tatiana are prone to falling down at the worst of times, due to weak ankles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, Tatiana--oh my God! She fell down again!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. tatiana &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can be named for really stuck up girls but that isnt true . it is the name of the friendliest , sweetest , forgivingest , most hilarious girls ever . they attract people easily and are easy to fall inlove with . &lt;strong&gt;is very hyperactive all the time&lt;/strong&gt; and laughs for no reason(=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;OMG , that girl is amazing ! shes such a tatiana ! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2498307238465352243?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2498307238465352243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2498307238465352243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2498307238465352243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2498307238465352243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/wreckage-in-my-head.html' title='The Wreckage In My Head'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7896144851482638128</id><published>2009-06-27T19:26:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T17:45:47.817+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anthem Of My Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND: #99feff;font-family:impact, chicago;font-size: 170%;"  &gt;NEW BLOGSKIN&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really random. Was just fooling around in Photoshop and with blog alignments until this came out. Pretty satisfied, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and &lt;span style="font-family:impact, chicago;font-size:180%;"&gt;I FINALLY GOT DAD'S STUPID VISTA BOX TO COOPERATE WITH MY MODEM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i659.photobucket.com/albums/uu316/retroheartz/pwnage.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? SEE. IT FINALLY SAYS &lt;span style="LETTER-SPACING: -5px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:200%"  &gt;CONNECTED.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I shall stop expressing my jubilation with excessive caps-locks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;POOHAHAA,IPWNYOU,YOUSTUPIDMUTHAFOOKINGPIECEOFVISTASHIT!&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still haven't started on my projects. I have this urge to shoot myself whenever I think about it. Mmm. Thinking of just copying bits and pieces from various people. Can't really be bothered. Any volunteers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I miss glowstringing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7896144851482638128?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7896144851482638128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7896144851482638128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7896144851482638128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7896144851482638128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/anthem-of-my-heart.html' title='Anthem Of My Heart'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-343250706182248002</id><published>2009-06-26T13:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T13:47:11.194+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Facades.</title><content type='html'>Extremely pleased beyond anything today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had slight sniffles, so as a precaution, mom's not letting me go to school. Not surprisingly, considering the mass hysteria everyone's in right now over H1N1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Chloe SMS-ed me saying that Micheal Jackson died. At first, I thought it was some sick joke. Then I saw the tribute they had on CNN. Weirdly enough, my brain seemed to suddenly stop accepting information. The fact that Micheal Jackson -- the butt of most of my jokes regarding plastic surgery -- died just &lt;strong&gt;will not sink in&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'm crying my soul out and begging God to exchange my life for his, etc like some die-hard fangirl. I'm actually not even feeling remotely sad. Slightly disappointed he couldn't make a comeback? Guess so. Guess I'm just apathetic to the whole issue. Never really been a fan of MJ's white glove or crotch-clutching dances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. Getting kinda dizzy so I'm just gonna go on the bed and submerge my soul with writing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-343250706182248002?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/343250706182248002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=343250706182248002&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/343250706182248002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/343250706182248002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/facades.html' title='Facades.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4410416520968000547</id><published>2009-06-25T21:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T22:15:57.357+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Chaos.</title><content type='html'>Got screwed up so badly today. So, because epically phail stuff are funny, I shall actually &lt;i&gt;recount&lt;/i&gt; the happenings of today and not how crappy I feel.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mmmm .. where to start ... oh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wasted twenty bucks on something that's gayer than Clay Aiken. AND -- oh, the clichedness just &lt;i&gt;kills&lt;/i&gt; me -- it's for a guy. And everyone (nearly) died from my wails of "&lt;i&gt;OH, EM GEE, IT'S SO GHEY. WHAT DO I DO?&lt;/i&gt;" bouncing around the library.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes. Pathethicness burns my very soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had gym after recess. Only four girls bothered bringing gym clothes. Everyone else just sat on the court and gossiped.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But some idiot with impeccably bad, bad, &lt;i&gt;BAD&lt;/i&gt; serving skills managed to fly a volleyball which smacked me on the nose. And I had a nosebleed because of said volleyball.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I also managed to trip off the path near the court and (nearly) fly into the drain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Indeed. Lack of sleep &lt;i&gt;CAN&lt;/i&gt; cause you pyshical harm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meh, gonna go do --&lt;i&gt; gasp, what is the world coming to&lt;/i&gt; -- Maths and perhaps, study. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This may sound harsh; &lt;b&gt;but leave me alone&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what she might've told you; but I haven't forgiven you yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I doubt I will anytime soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm not really pissed at what you've done to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm pissed at what you've done to her.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4410416520968000547?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4410416520968000547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4410416520968000547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4410416520968000547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4410416520968000547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/beautiful-chaos.html' title='Beautiful Chaos.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1202229106843707343</id><published>2009-06-24T20:08:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T21:45:04.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurting .</title><content type='html'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY THAKI-THAKI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only been close to year at the start of the year la. But I love you&lt;s&gt;r hair&lt;/s&gt; lots :]. And I know you &lt;s&gt;better&lt;/s&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; me more too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:impact,chicago; font-size: x-large; color: #000000; background: #cccccc;"&gt;No, I am not a happy person right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I've been even remotely happy for the past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pissed with everything. Anything. &lt;br /&gt;I want to get hit by a car and die of massive bleeding. I want to go to Iraq and get shot by those psycho Al-queda extremists. I want to die in my sleep. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Anything to just stop existing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'm exaggerating. I don't know if I'm just really crappy from lack of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All I do know is that I'm not okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1202229106843707343?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1202229106843707343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1202229106843707343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1202229106843707343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1202229106843707343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/hurting.html' title='Hurting .'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6902830117482638476</id><published>2009-06-23T20:25:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T22:21:11.919+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Strikes ; I'm Out.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Press the blades against your skin;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Feel the bullet pierce your heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today just really sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything that got screwed up yesterday seemed to just magnify itself ten-folds. So basically I'm drowning in this pile of fucked-up shit. And unattended projects. And horrible exam results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. I'm screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like problem after problem comes bulldozing its way and wanting to flatten me like the lizard that's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;kiaped&lt;/span&gt; between the door of the girl's bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't be bothered with blogging properly. I'll just sit here and wait for aliens to abduct me and slowly dissect me and my pathetic self apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6902830117482638476?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6902830117482638476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6902830117482638476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6902830117482638476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6902830117482638476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/three-strikes-im-out.html' title='Three Strikes ; I&apos;m Out.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3218032053172321627</id><published>2009-06-22T21:17:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:12:26.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby; Take Two Steps Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; HEIGHT: 310px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; pading: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/IMG00122-20090621-1516.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I see you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started with our new schedules today. &lt;strong&gt;I hate it&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;每天都要上级任老师的课。。看到她脸都觉得讨厌。。。 她lc 到。。。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was kinda floating in and out of reality and daydreams. I just could &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; fully focus on anything. I don't know if it's just me majorly lacking sleep or if this is some side-effect of depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Then again, maybe it's just school.&lt;br /&gt;Or it could be depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;... Paranoia?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I just want things to stop moving so fast. I guess I don't deal well with change. My tendency to overreact to things puts me off balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to comfort people I'm close to. I know "it's okay"s are pointless. Just blatant lies targetted to disillusion the person into thinking that you are some God that actually &lt;em&gt;has&lt;/em&gt; the power to make everything so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Screwing up is just an irreversible part of me.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Edrick kor;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really sorry. I had no idea.&lt;br /&gt;I want you to be happy. Yet I've screwed up pretty bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm gonna make it up to you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3218032053172321627?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3218032053172321627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3218032053172321627&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3218032053172321627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3218032053172321627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/baby-take-two-steps-back.html' title='Baby; Take Two Steps Back'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2868415029859080532</id><published>2009-06-21T23:49:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T23:59:14.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dysfuntionality</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/IMG00151-20090621-2109.jpg" style="width: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Father's Day, daddykinz :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stayed up 'till Four AM chatting with Lee Fugu Fish Sanrick. It was the latest I've ever stayed up talking to a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of all things, &lt;strong&gt;we were talking about porn&lt;/strong&gt;. Specifically, cat porn o.o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Tash: equlibrium: Like? O.o&lt;br /&gt;jack-12322@hotmail.com: how i know wor&lt;br /&gt;jack-12322@hotmail.com: bring pasar malam sell xD&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: LOL&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: HAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: Sure lose out to others la X:&lt;br /&gt;jack-12322@hotmail.com: fine, i add dog porn for bonus&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: HAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: still will lose out de laa o.o&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: Add dolphin porn&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: X]jack-12322@hotmail.com: gah + elephant porn can gua&lt;br /&gt;Tash: equlibrium: Add spongebob + barbie porn then can le 8D&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out to some stupid restaurant with mom and dad for Father's Day. Honestly, I just hate having these family outings. Mom criticizes everything; Dad aggressively defends whatever it was mom was criticizing, and I just silently sit there wishing for the ground to open up and suck me into a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. School's tomorrow. Haven't bothered doing homework yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H1N1, please spread. &lt;em&gt;Fast.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2868415029859080532?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2868415029859080532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2868415029859080532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2868415029859080532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2868415029859080532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/dysfuntionality.html' title='Dysfuntionality'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7180873202804945554</id><published>2009-06-20T15:36:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T18:56:55.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gravity Pulls Me To You ♥</title><content type='html'>Photos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of Mr. Bubbles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145457'), this, 'Show ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Show ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="DISPLAY: none" id="SID145457"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/20062009360.jpg" style="width: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/20062009359.jpg" style="width: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/20062009367.jpg" style="width: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taken by Mr. Bubbles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145458'), this, 'Show ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Show ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="DISPLAY: none" id="SID145458"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/IMG00036-20090619-2219.jpg" style="height: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/IMG00055-20090619-2235.jpg" style="width: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/IMG00014-20090619-2135.jpg" style="height: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up this morning and found myself in my parent's room. Kinda freaked out cos it's been ages since I last sleepwalked. I thought I was over it; apparently not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched MTV with Dad this afternoon. Exchanged critical comments of the songs and just talked. It was nice. It's been awhile since I've actually had a conversation with him -- he's always working overtime nowadays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And striking up a conversation with mom is just near impossible. We'd get by a few sentences, then she'd make some stupid comment and criticize whatever it was I was wearing, how I looked or just how I don't study enough. So, yeah. It's pretty much pointless to talk to her. Unless I want to rid myself of whatever self-esteem I have left (which probably isn't much to begin with).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, I just read this article about how not socializing properly with your kid can cause major pyschological / social problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;wow&lt;/span&gt;. No wonder I'm so screwed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145459'), this, 'Show tag ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Tagged by Chloe ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="DISPLAY: none" id="SID145459"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 Things that &lt;s&gt;use to or&lt;/s&gt; still scare you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heights&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Knives. And any other sharp stuff.&lt;br /&gt;3. Tsunamis.&lt;br /&gt;4. Paranormal stuff. &lt;br /&gt;5. Horror movies. But I still watch them, anyways. &lt;br /&gt;6. Spiders.&lt;br /&gt;7. Bees.&lt;br /&gt;8. Wasps.&lt;br /&gt;9. Scorpions.&lt;br /&gt;10. Any insect that stings.&lt;br /&gt;11. Chloe o.o&lt;br /&gt;12. Depression.&lt;br /&gt;13. Being lost. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;And alone&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag:&lt;br /&gt;♥ Edrick kor&lt;br /&gt;♥ Suyin&lt;br /&gt;♥ Gwen&lt;br /&gt;♥ Stan&lt;br /&gt;♥ Fish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.four names your friends call you&lt;br /&gt;» Tash&lt;br /&gt;» Tashiie&lt;br /&gt;» Papaya&lt;br /&gt;» That's about it la. Chinese teacher calls me by my Chinese name 凤凰.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2.Four most important dates in your life&lt;br /&gt;» 14th August 2008 ♥&lt;br /&gt;» 23rd April 1995&lt;br /&gt;» 19th May 1995 (:&lt;br /&gt;» 7th November 1995&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;3. Four things you've done in the last 30 minutes&lt;br /&gt;» Read my horoscope from the papers.&lt;br /&gt;» Play with my dad's blackberry&lt;br /&gt;» Doodle in my notebook.&lt;br /&gt;» Go online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;4.Four ways to be happy&lt;br /&gt;» Talking to him. &lt;br /&gt;» Write.&lt;br /&gt;» Doodle.&lt;br /&gt;» Go hyper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Gifts you would love to receive&lt;br /&gt;» Self-made stuff. Like bookmarks and cards :). &lt;br /&gt;» Doodles from Chloe x).&lt;br /&gt;» Shorts? o.o&lt;br /&gt;» MORE SHORTS x).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;6.Four fave hobbies&lt;br /&gt;» Doodling.&lt;br /&gt;» Writing.&lt;br /&gt;» Hyper-ing.&lt;br /&gt;» Daydreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;7. Four places you want to go for vacation&lt;br /&gt;» Rome.&lt;br /&gt;» Krabi.&lt;br /&gt;» Singapore (I want Nerds o.o)&lt;br /&gt;» Europe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;8.Four fave drinks&lt;br /&gt;» Ice Kacang. &lt;br /&gt;» Water&lt;br /&gt;» 100 Plus&lt;br /&gt;» COFFEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;9.four things always found in your room&lt;br /&gt;» Books. &lt;br /&gt;» Stufftoys.&lt;br /&gt;» Blankets&lt;br /&gt;» PILLOWS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;10.Four Fave colors&lt;br /&gt;» Blue&lt;br /&gt;» White&lt;br /&gt;» Black&lt;br /&gt;» Grey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.Top 4 Hangouts&lt;br /&gt;» Suyin's house.&lt;br /&gt;» Jiayu's house.&lt;br /&gt;» Sunway&lt;br /&gt;» The park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;12.Top 4 you love&lt;br /&gt;» Him. ♥&lt;br /&gt;» Edrick kor.&lt;br /&gt;» Chloe, Suyin, Jiayu&lt;br /&gt;» Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;13.Top 4 things special to you&lt;br /&gt;» Him. ♥&lt;br /&gt;» Family&lt;br /&gt;» Memories.&lt;br /&gt;» Freinds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;14.Top 4 reasons who you think will answer this survey&lt;br /&gt;» &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;BECAUSE I SAID SO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;» And because they love me :). &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Right&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;» &lt;s&gt;They have nothing better to blog about&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;» &lt;s&gt;And cos tags suck&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;15.Top 4 who you think will answer this survey&lt;br /&gt;» Gwen&lt;br /&gt;» Fish&lt;br /&gt;» Stan&lt;br /&gt;» Suyin&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/5538007409957343652-7180873202804945554?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7180873202804945554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7180873202804945554&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7180873202804945554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7180873202804945554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/gravity-pulls-me-to-you.html' title='Gravity Pulls Me To You ♥'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6637851021335820389</id><published>2009-06-19T22:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T23:31:57.924+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like The Lyrics Of A Sad Song</title><content type='html'>Playing with dad's new &lt;strong&gt;Blackberry Curve&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks sexy and takes &lt;em&gt;sexier&lt;/em&gt; photos. I'll post photos later; currently busy being engulfed into the fiery vortex of projects and deadlines. Haven't bothered starting on any, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'm still suffering from post-exam result depression. I feel like puking everytime I think of my results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I &lt;strong&gt;don't&lt;/strong&gt; wanna see that smug look on her face;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the words &lt;em&gt;'I told you so'&lt;/em&gt; forming on her lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. My life is officially non-existent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6637851021335820389?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6637851021335820389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6637851021335820389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6637851021335820389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6637851021335820389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/like-lyrics-of-sad-song.html' title='Like The Lyrics Of A Sad Song'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7130532607371042697</id><published>2009-06-18T20:56:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T22:37:26.438+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tear Them Red Pages</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I got a fifty-friggin-six for History&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes, a fucking &lt;i&gt;C&lt;/i&gt; for History even though I studied myself shitless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Today just really sucked la. Sucked worst than pyschotic vampire leeches. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Basically Life decided that all the shitty things that could ever happen to me were to happen today. And all those shitty things were to ruin my mood and probably, destroy the days of me actually having a social life -- &lt;i&gt;(online and off)&lt;/i&gt;. I sense grounding from my parents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And I just found out from Fish that the next exams are already &lt;b&gt;next month&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What. The. &lt;i&gt;Fook.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm actually contemplating to go study.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Or then again, I could just go smother myself with my pillow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7130532607371042697?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7130532607371042697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7130532607371042697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7130532607371042697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7130532607371042697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/tear-them-red-pages.html' title='Tear Them Red Pages'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1955667677164933677</id><published>2009-06-17T21:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T22:20:03.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Scream Tragedy</title><content type='html'>Wasn't in the best of moods today. I guess most people noticed I've gradually stopped flying about the school reciting random scenes from Charlie The Unicorn.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yeah. I'll get over myself soon. I hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chloe and me flipped through my (nearly full) school journal -- basically a notebook filled with stupid memos / notes / doodles, but &lt;b&gt;nothing personal&lt;/b&gt;; &lt;i&gt;so don't get any ideas&lt;/i&gt; -- and laughed at how things have changed so fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Planning on buying one of those artsy blank notebooks from MPH to replace my very worn-out journal. Excited at the prospect of wasting money. Oh, the joy of materialism.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mmm. Gonna go off and drown myself with writing. It might be good thearapy. And besides, it's been awhile since I've wrote anything other than blogposts and sleep-inducing, over-exaggerated school essays.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;x♥♥♥x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1955667677164933677?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1955667677164933677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1955667677164933677&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1955667677164933677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1955667677164933677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/lets-scream-tragedy.html' title='Let&apos;s Scream Tragedy'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8584523529849488028</id><published>2009-06-16T20:31:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T22:51:34.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>:( Unsmiley Face Says It All .</title><content type='html'>Agh. Not a good day.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; But meh. Since when was school ever a good day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got back some exam papers. Neutral to all my marks &lt;b&gt;except for one&lt;/b&gt;. Eesh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chloe stapled herself with her stapler, I was emo-ing, Edrick kor was .. re-enacting sex-scenes with his (broken) math compass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and the most awesomest / funniest part:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Fugu Fish got molested by P.K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;XD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MWAHAHHA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Papaya PWNAGE@!@#!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_____________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Everything's just so screwed up right now.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yeah. This is the part where I start loathing my pitiful, pathethic existence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And you&lt;/i&gt;,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If those rumors are true, you've reached probably the highest-ranking ever of an asshole.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Get over me&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;b&gt;Get over yourself&lt;/b&gt;. And get on with your life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've got enough crap to deal with excluding you. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8584523529849488028?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8584523529849488028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8584523529849488028&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8584523529849488028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8584523529849488028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/unsmiley-face-says-it-all.html' title=':( Unsmiley Face Says It All .'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7253141392901815800</id><published>2009-06-15T21:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T21:13:33.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Hell And Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I had so much candy today that I think I might just puke it all out now.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a total of one packet of gobstoppers, one and a half packet of nerds and a whole bag of Chachos with Chloe D: .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt; a way to start the first day of school -- stuffing yourself with junk food that will inevitably kill you with cholesterol and diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHY CAN'T THEY SELL WONKA CANDY IN MALAYSIA?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;WHY?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;D:!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was blah. Only got our English exam papers. Maths was infuriating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*/* EH,FUGU FISH. I THOUGHT YOU KILLED THAT WOMAN ALREADY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.K told us she'd only give us back our exam paper &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;; and instead started teaching chapters of complexed geometrical construction shit. Like wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I WANNA KNOW IF I PASSED OR NOT, WOMAN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HOW DO YOU EXPECT THE TINY CAPACITY OF MY BRAIN TO HANDLE THE IMMENSE STRESS OF NOT KNOWING THE UNKNOWN?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; D:!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mmm.&lt;i&gt; Whatever&lt;/i&gt;. I'm just gonna go pray that I last through the week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7253141392901815800?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7253141392901815800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7253141392901815800&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7253141392901815800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7253141392901815800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-hell-and-back.html' title='To Hell And Back'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7829798201414178598</id><published>2009-06-14T01:10:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T17:20:30.138+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I.M.Y.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;1:00 AM;&lt;/div&gt;It's like 1 AM and I'm finally done with a new layout. Navigations look weird :(. As normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked with Sanrick on MSN for most of the night / eaaarly morning. But the stupid fugu fish ditched me and went off to do dunno what. Rawr. So I'm just gonna go sleep la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Midvalley &lt;s&gt;tomorrow&lt;/s&gt; &lt;i&gt;later&lt;/i&gt;. Will edit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm. So. &lt;em&gt;Tired.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;4:58 PM;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Not feeling well&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;Everyone's depressed / moody. And everyone at home's down with the flu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;*-- Suyin,&lt;/i&gt; (like wow, I've dedicated you in &lt;b&gt;three&lt;/b&gt; of my posts already); cheer up, okay? Being single isn't that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go MV later tonight. Will update somemore later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9: 46 PM;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Back from Midvalley. &lt;strong&gt;i r haz new smexy wallet.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was supposed to go to some shop but didn't have enough time 'cos dad was rushing :[. Yeesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came home, showered, &lt;em&gt;blah&lt;/em&gt;, and here I am. Still unprepared as ever for school tomorrow. Haven't bothered packing my bag or doing homework. Far too absorbed with daydreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. Felt like calling someone ♥. But he's probably sleeping by now :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love my ABC Soup&lt;/strong&gt; :] ♥ ♥.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('SID145456'), this, 'Show tag ▼', 'Hide ▲');" href="javascript:void(null);"&gt;Tagged by Chloe ▼&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="SID145456" style="DISPLAY: none"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 . What have you been doing recently?&lt;br /&gt;Shopping. &lt;s&gt;Emo-ing&lt;/s&gt;. Bugging Fugu Fish x).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 . Do you ever turn your handphone off?&lt;br /&gt;Not much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 . What happened at 10am today?&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping :o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 . When did you last cry?&lt;br /&gt;Some time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 . Believe in Fate/Destiny?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 . What do you want in life now?&lt;br /&gt;A PURPLE GIRAFFE THAT POOPS OUT DIAMONDS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 . Do you carry an umbrella when it rains or just put up your hood?&lt;br /&gt;Hoodies pwn all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What's your favourite thing to do on bed ?&lt;br /&gt;Read. Listen to music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What bottoms are you wearing now?&lt;br /&gt;PUMA shorts :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 . What are the nicest things in your inbox?&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. The things sent by people I love are the awesomest :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 . Do you tend to make relationships complicated?&lt;br /&gt;Try not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 . Are you wearing anything borrowed from anyone?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 . What was the last movie you caught?&lt;br /&gt;17 Again. Wasn't that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 . What are you proud of ?&lt;br /&gt;Of being myself :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What does the oldest text msg in your inbox says and who is it fr0m?&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Good Luck! I need to continue making ian feel guilty now xP -- Chloe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 . What was the last song you sang out loud?&lt;br /&gt;It's Not A Fashion Statement; It's A Fucking Deathwish - MCR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 . Do you have any nicknames?&lt;br /&gt;Tash, Tashiie, Papaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 . What does the newest text msg says and who is it from?&lt;br /&gt;BLAH. Anyway, what did you write in the earlier messages -- Sanrick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 . What time did you go to sleep last night?&lt;br /&gt;3 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 . Are you currently happy?&lt;br /&gt;Meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 . Who gives you the best advice?&lt;br /&gt;Probably Chloe. Or Suyin. Or Edrick kor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 . Do you eat whipped cream straight from the can?&lt;br /&gt;Love doing that :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23 . Who do you talked to on phone last night?&lt;br /&gt;No one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24 . Is something bugging you right now?&lt;br /&gt;Nu-uh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 . Who is the last person to make you laugh?&lt;br /&gt;Fugu Fish. &lt;s&gt;And his Yui / Car / Guitar obsession.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.Do you like yourself?&lt;br /&gt;Meh. I could be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27.You want $5 or $10?&lt;br /&gt;YOU THINK LEHHH?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28.Do you think you are stupid sometimes?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29.Who is your best best best friend?&lt;br /&gt;HONG FISHAYE JIA YU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30.What will you do if you like that boy?&lt;br /&gt;Tell him :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31.Who are your favourite stars?&lt;br /&gt;Alex Gaskarth &amp;amp; Alex Evans o.o. OOOH, AND PETE WENTZ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32.You hate your mother sometimes in some ways?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33.Do you had even stead before?&lt;br /&gt;Mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34.What type of boy do you like?&lt;br /&gt;Someone like him :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35.Now are you single/attached?&lt;br /&gt;Attached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Pass this tag to&lt;/s&gt; Name 10 people !&lt;br /&gt;1. Suyin&lt;br /&gt;2. Gwen&lt;br /&gt;3. Ian&lt;br /&gt;4. Edrick&lt;br /&gt;5. Fugu Fish&lt;br /&gt;6. Fish (o.o??)&lt;br /&gt;7. Thaki-thaki&lt;br /&gt;8. WeiBin&lt;br /&gt;9. Lara&lt;br /&gt;10. Sam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Would you date number 5?&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHA. He's poisonous and he might kill me with his poisonous fugu-fish spikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Number 2 just got in a car crash. How do you react?&lt;br /&gt;NO, NOT GWEN D: . TAKE STAN INSTEAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You see number 9 with your boy/girlfriend. What do you do?&lt;br /&gt;Won't happen :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You come home and your room has been ransacked by number 4.&lt;br /&gt;He'll get his room ransacked by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Number 1 is acting weird.&lt;br /&gt;JOIN THE CLUB x).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Numbers 3 and 8 decide to give 10 a haircut&lt;br /&gt;o.o. Ian's gonna get killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Number 7 just got tickets for him/her and ask you to go to a concert&lt;br /&gt;OF COURSE HE'D INVITE ME :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Number 10 takes you to a bar&lt;br /&gt;Oooooh. Alcohal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Number 4 has to move to the other side of the world&lt;br /&gt;YOU BETTER TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AR. AND MUST CALL ME EVERYDAY O: . I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH IT COSTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. You and number 8 are being chased by the cops for an unknown reason&lt;br /&gt;What did he do now? D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Number 5 asks you out to dinner&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go to some expensively crazy restaurant and make him pay xD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Number 9 and you are sitting on a bus&lt;br /&gt;The bus shall explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Number 6 calls you in the middle of the night because he/she can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;"What? Huh? Tash arr? Oh, hang on arr. I go call her" *hangs up and continues sleeping*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Your walking with someone and number 6 runs up and tackles you to the ground from behind.&lt;br /&gt;MOLESTER D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Number 1 is crying one day and you ask him/her why and it seems their boy/girlfriend has dumped them.&lt;br /&gt;He shall &lt;em&gt;pay&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Number 2 offers to bake you a meal. As you sit in the other room, the kitchen is suddenly aflame.&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA O.O. RUN, GWEN, RUN x).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Number 4 comes to your door one day holding a koala&lt;br /&gt;o_o. Er. Let's cook it :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Number 4 just got you an X-Box&lt;br /&gt;Kewl o.o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Number 9 challenges you to a children's card game!&lt;br /&gt;I'd lose for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Number 1 thinks he/she's overweight&lt;br /&gt;Wtf o.o. Woman, you're slim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Number 7 looks lonely!&lt;br /&gt;He's not lonely. He has the awesome Papaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Number 2 asks you rudely to go leave her/him alone&lt;br /&gt;I understand :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Numbers 5 and 3 decide to throw a surprise party for you&lt;br /&gt;O.O. Keeewl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Number 6 decide to dye their hair black. What do you say to that?&lt;br /&gt;Don't waste hair dye laaa you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Number 2 tells you he/she is going to go out for a while, and then later you hear about a shooting where 2 went.&lt;br /&gt;o_o. Run outside and see if she's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. You catch number 9 by him/herself, crying&lt;br /&gt;The person who made her cry shall pay :/.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Numbers 1 , 3 , 5, and 6 all tackle you at once!&lt;br /&gt;MOLESTEEERS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7829798201414178598?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7829798201414178598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7829798201414178598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7829798201414178598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7829798201414178598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/imy.html' title='I.M.Y.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6420795349578549619</id><published>2009-06-13T13:26:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T17:25:34.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile A Little Longer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Ish. Now my neighbour on the left is doing renovations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Like wtf. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Is this week &lt;b&gt;OH, LET'S-DO-RENOVATIONS-AND-PISS-OUR-NEIGHBOURS-AND-LAUGH-IN-THEIR-FACES-WHILE-WE-STAY-IN-SOME-HOTEL-FAR-AWAY-FROM-THE-NOISE&lt;/b&gt;?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;FOOOKK THEM BASTARDZ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ish. My mood hasn't improved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherry;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you're emo-ing, woman. Even though I told you not to. 不要管他，啦。他对你这样，你还要他？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiya, 还会有很多&lt;strong&gt;比较好&lt;/strong&gt;的男生靠你啦！ 请不要伤心因为了他， okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its hard lah, but you can do it. [: . &lt;i&gt;Malaysia Boleh&lt;/i&gt; maaah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6420795349578549619?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6420795349578549619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6420795349578549619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6420795349578549619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6420795349578549619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/smile-little-longer.html' title='Smile A Little Longer'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4710492837630094166</id><published>2009-06-12T22:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T23:10:47.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Everything's Fucked ;</title><content type='html'>Today was incredibly dissapointing. And piss-i-fying.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went to Suyin's house. There were supposed to be like, five people coming but the other &lt;b&gt;three ditched us&lt;/b&gt;. Ish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spent the whole afternoon there :/. Won't blog about the rest of the day; honestly, it was just &lt;b&gt;horrible&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now I'm just basically pissed off beyond anything because my private bubble of calm oasis is being invaded and slowly punctured.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ish. Whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm just gonna scream into my pillow until I feel better.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;At least it's better than punching walls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_____&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Suyin;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for inviting me :]. I know it was dissapointing. And I know you're probably kinda emo over the whole thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But cheer up okay? If it turns out all wrong, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;you don't need assholes like him&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; love you woman :D.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4710492837630094166?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4710492837630094166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4710492837630094166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4710492837630094166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4710492837630094166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-everythings-fucked.html' title='When Everything&apos;s Fucked ;'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4672153167461950292</id><published>2009-06-10T18:23:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T20:40:50.965+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Moved On.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Down with the flu. Ish. Had this pounding headache from morning. Not to mention that the dude upstairs is doing renovations. I &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; have the sound of drills reverberating in my head. So, yeah. Couldn't sleep; even though I really needed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When everything seems perfect; &lt;b&gt;Life just has to fuck things up again&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;______&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;No hard feelings.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wanna know something?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I lied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You don't know how much I cried that night. &lt;i&gt;Both&lt;/i&gt; nights. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know. I said I was fine. That I would forgive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I lied that time too.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry. I know. I should've been honest with you. On both occasions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I just couldn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't have the heart to hurt you. To make you feel bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now, I realized you would've figured things out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Figured why I was being cold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why I was hiding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've moved on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've found someone new. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I think you should too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm just gonna be honest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;But I hate you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4672153167461950292?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4672153167461950292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4672153167461950292&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4672153167461950292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4672153167461950292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-moved-on.html' title='I&apos;ve Moved On.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7753757700859167565</id><published>2009-06-09T20:41:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T00:02:13.917+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rewind. Replay. Save. ♥</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;iLy&lt;/strong&gt; :). iLy &lt;em&gt;alot&lt;/em&gt;. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;_______&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Midvalley today. Saw nearly 1/4 of the school; &lt;b&gt;including teachers&lt;/b&gt; ==. Ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up with Suyin, Adrian, Sanrick and Alvin at Mcdonalds :]. Originally planned to watch a movie but yeah; but nothing really nice was showing la. The boys wanted to go bowling so we followed and sat in the corner gossiping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, the guys went to the arcade. Suyin and me decided to go to Petz Wonderland and goggle at the puppies :]. There was this man at the fish section ._.:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Man:&lt;/strong&gt; Eh, Miss! Miss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salesgirl:&lt;/strong&gt; Yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Man:&lt;/strong&gt; Ikan ini ar, *points to sea-water fish* &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;boleh makan tak&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;==.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later went to F.O.S with Suyin to camwhore / try on clothes. And the boys actually followed after awhile. So, me and Suyin snuck out to see if they would noticed. Ish, they didn't. They just continued sitting there talking. Apparently, &lt;b&gt;they thought we were in the dressing rooms&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked all the way to the Gardens and stopped at Starbucks. Stayed there for about twenty minutes or so. Then Sanrick and Alvin went off somewhere; Me, Adrian and Suyin just roamed around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Suyin took &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; stalkerazzi photos :P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stopped by MPH 'cos dad was gonna pick me up late. Camwhored, then cabut-ed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, photos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;@ cosmic bowl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image001-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@ F.O.S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image003-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image1435.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@ the arcade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image008-7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@ the gardens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image006-9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; HEIGHT: 310px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image004-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@ MPH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image009-6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 310px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image010-6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; HEIGHT: 310px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image011-4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7753757700859167565?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7753757700859167565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7753757700859167565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7753757700859167565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7753757700859167565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/rewind-replay-save.html' title='Rewind. Replay. Save. ♥'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8119777095885453670</id><published>2009-06-08T23:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T02:11:36.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Degree Burns</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ish. I'm down the flu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:(.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I have this giant &lt;b&gt;pimple&lt;/b&gt; *&lt;i&gt;le gasp&lt;/i&gt;* on my nose. Ishhhh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But not worry, because I have the amazing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/09062009274.jpg" style="height: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L'oreal facescrub with microbead thingymabobs that feel like they're gonna rip your skin off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/09062009276.jpg" style="width: 310px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And the Assata cream that &lt;i&gt;doesn't do anything&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How wonderful, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Not to mention that I'm supposed to go out in public with people I know tomorrow!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ish. Stupid teenage hormones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8119777095885453670?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8119777095885453670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8119777095885453670&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8119777095885453670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8119777095885453670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/six-degree-burns.html' title='Six Degree Burns'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7434109496984856288</id><published>2009-06-07T22:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T01:28:31.268+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing With Naivety</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;All hollow and empty;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally back home. Nothing much happened. Dad and I left after lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lazy to upload photos. The're all at facebook. Sorry, but I can't be bothered with blogging properly right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might edit this and blog properly tomorrow if I'm in the mood.&lt;br /&gt;______&lt;br /&gt;6.6.2009 // Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;-Blogging from notepad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the ancient, moss-covered buildings and smelling that strange rustic smell that seems to linger in old towns somehow struck a chord in me. A sense of familiarity filled me up as my dad drove way over the speed limit so we wouldn't be late for church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, guess you could say I'm somewhat happy to be back here in Seramban. &lt;em&gt;Despite&lt;/em&gt; the crazy mosquitos and even crazier Mat Rempits inhabiting what would be an otherwise fairly quiet town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stopped by some mamak stall before church. Dad and my uncles indulged in some &lt;em&gt;grownup talk&lt;/em&gt; while I basically just sat and stared at pigeons picking food off the ground. Nice. Shows how much of a social creature I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church service was .. well, normal lah. Long, long sermon; long, long songs; hot, hot heat. Meh. Regret wearing that black shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drove back to Grandma's house. Had dinner. Watched the ending of Superhero Movie. Then watched some incredibly boring crime-thriller -- oh, the irony -- on Hallmark. Now the men are watching football. Meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMS-ed Edrick kor. Talked about practically everything under the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes kor, thank you for caring so much ;). I'll try to cheer up and be that idiotically hyperactive woman that I was, okay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7434109496984856288?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7434109496984856288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7434109496984856288&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7434109496984856288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7434109496984856288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/playing-with-naivety.html' title='Playing With Naivety'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-2790982036448991773</id><published>2009-06-06T14:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T14:56:45.785+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like A Lone Heart Carved On A Tree</title><content type='html'>Going off to Seramban in approximitely two hours time. Bah. Will be back by Sunday.&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; "&gt;And no, I don't feel any better than from yesterday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heard the Sims 3 came out. I wanna buy it but I'm scared the price might be crazy. Gonna drop by Midvalley on the way back home from Seramban on Sunday. So, yeah. Might check the prices there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time to go pack; &lt;b&gt;miss me&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-2790982036448991773?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2790982036448991773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=2790982036448991773&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2790982036448991773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/2790982036448991773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/like-lone-heart-carved-on-tree.html' title='Like A Lone Heart Carved On A Tree'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8319699142570585059</id><published>2009-06-05T21:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T21:48:19.895+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When All I Want Is To Feel Better</title><content type='html'>I don't know. I don't know what's wrong.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it scares me. Abit. Feeling like this for no reason. This overwhelming unhappiness sucking up your space. And feeling this numbness -- like what you do doesn't matter anymore, trying to sound normal when you're MSN-ing or SMS-ing someone just cos you don't want the person to worry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; want to be happy. I do want some giant yellow smiley face to slap me. But .. it's just &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; happening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I dunno. Probably just a depression phase that I'm bound to get over. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Or at least I hope so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_______________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edrick kor;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for making sure I was okay lah. I know you have bigger issues to deal with than me and my stupid depression issue. Thank you (: . And you better take care and &lt;b&gt;not do anything stupid&lt;/b&gt; when I'm gone this weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suyin;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for worrying about me. Please stop, yeah? D: You make me feel so bad; I know you've got other issues to worry about too. I'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gwen;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for making me smile abit with your epic humor. &lt;b&gt;I LOVE YOU TO DEATH&lt;/b&gt;. I'll try to cheer up soon, okay? And yeah. Like everyone else, you have&lt;i&gt; bigger&lt;/i&gt; issues to deal with than me. I'm sorry for burdening you :(.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lance;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're like the guru when it comes to depression. Yeah, last time I couldn't stand you when you get depressed; but guess who's talking now. Thank you for tryna cheer me up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8319699142570585059?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8319699142570585059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8319699142570585059&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8319699142570585059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8319699142570585059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-all-i-want-is-to-feel-better.html' title='When All I Want Is To Feel Better'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4604613737503382155</id><published>2009-06-03T21:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T21:56:28.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Our Worlds Collide .</title><content type='html'>I'm siting here &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wishing&lt;/span&gt;;&lt;br /&gt;For something that's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;missing&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda sprained my wrists from trying to do a front handspring. I think my left has got it worst, though. But, yeah, it's better now. Not as swollen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; can't do font handsprings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. I was doing cartwheels and attempting handsprings in the living room just for the sake of entertainment. The only safety measure I bothered to take was to put some thin mattress on the floor. Brilliant, eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asides from spraining my wrists, I managed to collect multiple bruises. Most of them on my knees and elbows. Ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And I still cannot do front handsprings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Denial, much?&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/5538007409957343652-4604613737503382155?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4604613737503382155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4604613737503382155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4604613737503382155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4604613737503382155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-our-worlds-collide.html' title='When Our Worlds Collide .'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4077281782162901362</id><published>2009-06-02T14:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T15:11:38.705+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit The Lights</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;You got me &lt;i&gt;fucked up&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;b&gt;sold,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;Only to take it back again;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;O' &lt;i&gt;sweetheart&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;you're shameless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_____________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Really pissed off today. I really &lt;i&gt;wish&lt;/i&gt; Blogger had that password-protect feature that Wordpress has.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People are so fucked up. There're different types of fucked up people; &lt;b&gt;but the worst is the type that knows how to fix their fucked up problems but just don't bother accepting it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;You're such an, ass you know that? Dating her just for the sake of having a girlfriend? Fuck. You're so blind. You don't know how much you've been hurting her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;And the other types that sucks equally as much is when people you truly care and trust &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;treating you like some secondhand shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Know what, from now on I'm just gonna try not to give a shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4077281782162901362?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4077281782162901362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4077281782162901362&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4077281782162901362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4077281782162901362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/hit-lights.html' title='Hit The Lights'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7464899160793523175</id><published>2009-06-01T17:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T20:49:10.437+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink Socks Are Hot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You know he's a keeper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When no matter &lt;em&gt;how&lt;/em&gt; many times you screw up or &lt;i&gt;how&lt;/i&gt; badly you do;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He's still there ready to forgive you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_______________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEHEE, today was fun. &lt;em&gt;Epically&lt;/em&gt;, fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up at about 9:00 and went to the park. Waited another hour for Suyin and Ian. Ian wanted to stay back and play basketball, so whatever lah. Walked to Suyin's house with her maid and Chloe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Ian &lt;em&gt;saopei&lt;/em&gt; already, and followed Andrew to Suyin's place. As punishment, we left them outside to rot in the sun while we ate ice-cream :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image006-8.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image008-6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image009-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saopei, horr.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We let the guys in after awhile. &lt;b&gt;But still no ice-cream for them&lt;/b&gt;. Talked and pranked the boys at BB camp. Immature, yet fun as hell :].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian and Andrew left around an hour later. Andrew wanted to go continue to 减肥 at the park. So, yeah. Camwhored at Suyin's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image016-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image017-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs027.snc1/4279_86353389538_612419538_1787088_4644881_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suyin -- checking of phone signal [?]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs027.snc1/4279_86353379538_612419538_1787087_3139165_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*FWOOM; &lt;em&gt;SUPERRRRGIIIRL&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; WIDTH: 270px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs027.snc1/4279_86353394538_612419538_1787089_1145003_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supermodel pose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; HEIGHT: 270px; BORDER-TOP: #cccccc 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #cccccc 1px solid; PADDING-TOP: 5px" src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/4279_86358439538_612419538_1787144_.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly Edrick kor called Suyin and told her &lt;strong&gt;that he was outside&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stalkerism?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Apparently, he took the bus from YMCA in Brickfields and walked all the way from some bustop to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Chloe and me were about to cabut back to the padang lah; 'cos it looked like it's gonna rain. So, yeah. Talked awhile, then Edrick teman-ed us to walk back to the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Thank god he did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cos Chloe and me got lost Dx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, apparently it's true that boys are better than girls with directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we made it to the padang. Played on the swings while yelling insults at the guys playing basketball. Then I thought I saw someone familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Ehh, is that Adrian..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chloe:&lt;/strong&gt; No lah. Is it that Shing shing shing &lt;em&gt;dunno what&lt;/em&gt;, Ivan guy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chloe:&lt;/strong&gt; Why is he waving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; O_O. Let's go walk there lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- &lt;i&gt;Much&lt;/i&gt; later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chloe:&lt;/strong&gt; EH, IT'S ADRIAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: &lt;/strong&gt;EH, YAH HORR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chloe:&lt;/strong&gt; OWN BOYFRIEND ALSO CANNOT RECOGNIZE, &lt;em&gt;WHAT LAH YOU?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pffft. Laughed like mad afterwards. Stayed around the park until Chloe had to go home; then called mom and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaand then got scolded. Ish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7464899160793523175?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7464899160793523175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7464899160793523175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7464899160793523175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7464899160793523175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/06/pink-socks-are-hot.html' title='Pink Socks Are Hot'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1919533758364088197</id><published>2009-05-31T22:20:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T23:50:37.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wanna Feel Reckless; Wanna Feel Weightless</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="360" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UQyrz5V7Vuw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UQyrz5V7Vuw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="360" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I wanna watch Night At The Musem 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;Anybody wanna teman me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Anyone?&lt;br /&gt;I heard it was some funny shit :D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Suyin's house with Chloe and Ian tomorrow. Initially wanted to invite my &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt;, but meh. Didn't want Suyin to be all alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;*Coughs*&lt;br /&gt;Nut-nut is such a lousy, lousy, lousy, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;LOUSY&lt;/span&gt; boyfriend for Suyin.&lt;br /&gt;She deserves better. x]. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Midvalley again. Wanted to buy a new flat iron 'cos my old one sparked out; but they weren't selling any. Damn.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MV was crowded as hell. There was soooo many people it was ridiculous. There was this bunch of bitches camwhoring &lt;b&gt;in the middle&lt;/b&gt; of the crowd. Like wtf. If it was one picture then okay lah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;But they took dunno how many godforsaken pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thus causing unnessacary crowding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ish. It wasn't just them, though; &lt;b&gt;people kept blocking everything&lt;/b&gt; -- the front doors of shops, the bathroom, the exits, etc. I got tired of saying 'excuse me' -- fuck, all they did was glare and then ignore me, anyways -- so I had to shove around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wah, we all &lt;i&gt;truly&lt;/i&gt; Malaysian ah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. Gonna go sleep lah.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt; I have to wake up at &lt;i&gt;9:00&lt;/i&gt; for Chloe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1919533758364088197?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1919533758364088197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1919533758364088197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1919533758364088197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1919533758364088197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-wanna-feel-reckless-wanna-feel.html' title='I Wanna Feel Reckless; Wanna Feel Weightless'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-7881691406561773270</id><published>2009-05-30T19:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T00:21:06.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys Over Flowers? The heck?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;New layout. Kinda simple, and I think the navigations look weird but I guess I'm happy with it. Weird how I'm picky over my navigations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tried to do some painting today but ehy, it epically failed. Oh well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, after the painting disaster, I decided to finally finish watching &lt;b&gt;Boys Over Flowers&lt;/b&gt; after abandoning it at the last two episodes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I get kidnapped and beaten up like those Ah Long victims, I advise hardcore BOF fans to not read the rest of this post. Unless you're really open-minded and accept that different people have &lt;i&gt;different&lt;/i&gt; views. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not gonna tolerate&lt;b&gt; immature&lt;/b&gt; comments and I will not hesitate to flame. &lt;b&gt;I do not care how old you are&lt;/b&gt; (my friend's nine year old sister watches BOF, so yeah.).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I won't deny that I didn't enjoy the show. The cast really did well lah, and I guess I could connect pretty well to the charecters. But I wish there was more charecter development on WuBin. Seriously, all I know is that he's some leader of some underground gang.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And fine. The script was well-written. Extraordinarly funny at times, but epically failing at others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly, I find the show quite overrated lah,  what with all the blogs proclaming it the best thing ever, blah blah blah, etc. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean seriously. &lt;b&gt;The plot is corny and cliched as hel&lt;/b&gt;l. Everything's overly exaggerrated and I do not understand why people are making such a big fuss out of this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah lah, yeah lah. I could be like, the only girl who isn't one of the nine million fangirls, but still. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;What is the big fuss about?!?!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not that I didn't enjoy BOF. It was quite entertaining, but I don't get why people are claiming it to be the best Korean drama ever. To be honest, I've seen better (Coffeehouse Prince, A Love To Kill).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure, Boys Over Flowers stars four super &lt;i&gt;lengzai&lt;/i&gt; dudes and a script bordering average with some humor thrown in; but the plot is shallow and honestly, I don't think I'm gonna remember this drama in a few months' time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.... &lt;i&gt;Yet&lt;/i&gt; we have people idolizing the cast and proclaiming to the world that BOF is the best drama to ever land on television.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't get people these days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or am I just too much of a critic? I dunno. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feel free to leave *comments, I'd like to think what you really think. Maybe (just maybe lah) I'm not some freak after all and there are girls who think BOF isn't that much of a big deal either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;___________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*When I say comments, I don't mean things like:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;"YOU SUCKK!1111ONEONEONE. YOU'RE A BITCH FOR NOT LIKING BOFFF!! I SHALL KIDNAP YOU AND CHAIN YOU TO SOME WALL AND BEAT YOU UP LIKE SOME DOG!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, not nessacarily that lah. But you get what I mean. Don't post up immature comments. You're wasting both our lives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-7881691406561773270?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7881691406561773270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=7881691406561773270&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7881691406561773270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/7881691406561773270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/boys-over-flowers-heck.html' title='Boys Over Flowers? The heck?'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6754671709285227842</id><published>2009-05-29T20:55:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T00:57:56.349+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When You Lose Yourself;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/finaledit.png" style="width: 370px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Plucking the petals off;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;murmring "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he loves me&lt;/span&gt;; he loves me not"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_____________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Mid-term break is finally here. I'm glad. This week's been crazy, what with the mad rush to cram everything and praying not to have a blackout during exams.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got two weeks to party like mad. Then I've gotta face my exam results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skipped Teacher's Day at school today. And I'm sorry Chloe for ditching you at Boon Boon. But you had fun anyway :]. I love you, woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a sudden impulse to paint today but I couldn't find my brushes. And I didn't feel like using pastel crayons. So I just had to be content with camwhoring and editing with Photoshop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I got tired of that half-way, though. Walked out to the balcony and sat on the old bench we have out there. I had one of those moments where you start thinking about everything in general. I guess I had an identity dillema. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I realized I couldn't exactly describe myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was stubborn but I gave in to p&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Italic" border="0" class="gl_italic" /&gt;eople. I create barriers between me and some people who're closest to me because&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm scared I might somehow lose them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I plan to try to paint my balcony and the scene outside, provided &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; I can find my brushes. It's probably gonna end up looking disastrous. I'll try to scan it in and post it tomorrow, if it's not too bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6754671709285227842?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6754671709285227842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6754671709285227842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6754671709285227842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6754671709285227842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-you-lose-yourself.html' title='When You Lose Yourself;'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4282922849307657138</id><published>2009-05-29T01:07:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T02:01:09.245+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thawing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/edited2.png" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 80%"&gt;See, Chloe. This is how bad I feel for ffk-ing Boon Boon tomorrow D:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe and I brought our &lt;span style="font-style:italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;baby photos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to school. HAHA, teachers weren't gonna teach so we figured why not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically spent the whole day in school walking around. It was fun :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image006-7.jpg" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Andrew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image005-5.jpg" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ian, the stalker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t8RiRhSGhSM/Sh56rGBI4LI/AAAAAAAAAtM/TE14MQkGlf0/s320/DSC02785.JPG" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What girls do in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t8RiRhSGhSM/Sh56rTSz7LI/AAAAAAAAAtU/weGKca_zBYw/s320/DSC02786.JPG" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What girls do in the toilet &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;with phones.&lt;/span&gt; -- quote Chloe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me; left. Chloe; right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/edited3.png" style="height: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Soap dispenser :D.&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/5538007409957343652-4282922849307657138?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4282922849307657138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4282922849307657138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4282922849307657138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4282922849307657138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/thawing.html' title='Thawing.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t8RiRhSGhSM/Sh56rGBI4LI/AAAAAAAAAtM/TE14MQkGlf0/s72-c/DSC02785.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1824206586598374607</id><published>2009-05-27T21:27:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T00:07:09.455+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiss My Ass, Bitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%"&gt;DELETED.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still pissed and hurt as hell; but I won't let her get to me. &lt;br /&gt;I made a mistake of doing things for the sake of her, to try to reach her expectations. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Just because she told me I'd better do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 160%; background: #cccccc; color: hotpink;"&gt;Not anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna do things for my sake.&lt;br /&gt;I won't listen to your shit. Because I know that I don't need to prove anything to you; &lt;span style="font-size: 110%;"&gt;'cos I've proven everything to myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not gonna let you define who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I'm not gonna let you make me wanna throw my life away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not gonna be some puppet you can emotionally abuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Not anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;To Chloe;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for listening to me sob over the phone like some idiot. I probably sounded really gross what with all the snorting and sniffling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, woman.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;To Ian;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you anyway for asking me if I was okay lah, even though you didn't really have to :]. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;BUT&lt;/span&gt;, if you belanja me Boon Boon, I'll be happier x).&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-1824206586598374607?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1824206586598374607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1824206586598374607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1824206586598374607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1824206586598374607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/kiss-my-ass-bitch.html' title='Kiss My Ass, Bitch'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4004852939970839193</id><published>2009-05-26T20:26:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T18:21:45.322+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Call Me Baby</title><content type='html'>One more day. &lt;br /&gt;Going mad. Really mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kept tugging at my fringe during school 'cos it's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; short now :[. And Chloe kept laughing at me. That woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(null);" onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('123098324324324'), this, 'See photos &amp;#9660;', 'Hide it &amp;#9650;');"&gt;See photos &amp;#9660;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id='123098324324324' style='display:none;'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image010-4.jpg" style="height: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image006-6.jpg" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image034.jpg" style="height: 320px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image033.jpg" style="width: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image023.jpg" style="height: 270px; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my hair is much, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;much&lt;/span&gt; shorter now. But I guess I'm pretty okay with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had Arts exam. It was stupid beyond anything. I was supposed to draw local fruits or whatever shit. But my amazing painting skills kept evolving various fruits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Bananas turned into a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;mango&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A durian turned into a pomelo.&lt;br /&gt;Rambutan turned into over-sized tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And magically, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;mandarin oranges became local fruits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 120% background: yellow; color: #cccccc"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm so acing Arts.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. Gotta cram History / GEO / Home Economics after I finish the tag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 80%"&gt;Tchyeah. Gonna epically fail tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(null);" onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('12309832432432'), this, 'See tag &amp;#9660;', 'Hide it &amp;#9650;');"&gt;See tag &amp;#9660;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id='12309832432432' style='display:none;'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1. You wake up and there's spiders all over your wall and on your bed. What do you do?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scream. Run out of my room. Continue screaming hysterically. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2. After you handled your.. spider problem, you go to take a shower. You turn on the water and.. mud comes out. What now?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fill up the tub with mud and play with the bubbles o.o. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Then&lt;/span&gt; complain to my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3. Now you want to eat breakfast. You open the cabinet and there's nothing in it! What do you do for breakfast?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just skip breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4. After that, you decide to go for a walk. You trip over a cup, and a genie pops out and says she'll grant you one wish. What do you wish for? (no, you can't wish for more wishes!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A blue dinosaur that poops out gold and cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;5. After you made your wish, you find a $30 bill on the ground! But wait... there's no such thing! What do you do with it?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep it. And lc everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"HAHA, I HAVE THE ONLY $30 BILL IN THE WORLD! AND YOU DON'T! HARHARHARHAR!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;6. While walking on, your favorite celebrity is walking toward you! Who is this celebrity and what do you say?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor Lautner. I'll glomp him, get his autograph / photo and other things crazy fans do, and then go lc my friends somemore. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;7. The celebrity gives you two concert tickets to your favorite band's concert because they can't go. What band is it and who will you bring?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Fall Out Boy. I'll drag JiaYu along. Oh, and my blue dinosaur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8. That celebrity also lets you pick a song you wrote for your favorite band to play. What song do they play?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. Something dedicated to my awesome blue-dinosaur-that-poops-gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;9. After your walk, you go home and check your mail. What's this? You win a $10,000 shopping spree at your favorite store? What store is it and what do you buy?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably that store on the top floor of Midvalley. Forgot the name, I think it's next to Tropicana? That place sells awesome hoodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;10. After that, you invite a friend over and you order pizza. The pizza is glowing green, but you eat it anyway. After you eat it, you have superpowers! What powers do you have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telekinesis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;11. What do you do with your superpowers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most probably wreck havoc and bring the world to a crisis never seen befo -- OH LOOK, BUNNY RABBIT! *forgets plans of world domination*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12. Now that you have superpowers and just about everything you ever wanted, you get to re-open a favorite store of your's that closed. Which store do you re-open?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Maybe a store selling vintage items. I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;13. Now you're on the computer and see you can get your own domain name for $30! (oh, the $30 bill!) What's your domain name?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Maybe vintagedretro. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;15. Okay, now that you have your domain name, what do you put on your website?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resources, my daily crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;16. After you finished your website for the day, you decide you need some sleep since you had a long day. You go to your room only to discover the spiders are back. What do you do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call that due from Man VS. Wild and ask him tabau the spiders and eat them or whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either that, or I'd just call Ian and let him rape the spiders. Instant death for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;17. You don't even want to sleep in your room anymore, so you sleep on the couch. In the middle of the night you`re woken up by a bang on your roof. You go outside to check it out and.. what the hell, it's Billie Joe Armstrong!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kidnap him and hold him for ransom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;18. After you're done talking or doing whatever to Billie Joe, Tre and his magical drumsticks fall from the sky. Tre says he'll grant you one wish with his magical drumsticks. What do you wish for this time? (still, no wishing for more wishes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a pink dinosaur that poops out genies, who will grant me more wishes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Technically&lt;/span&gt;, I'm not wishing for wishes :]. HEEHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;19. Now you're really tired, but you're hungry, too. So you decide to get a midnight snack. You open your refridgerator and find a lifetime supply of candy! Yay! What do you do?:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat it. &lt;s&gt;Then die of diabetes&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;20. After eating that candy, you're too wired to sleep. You want to tell your friends about the coolness that happened! Who do you tell?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe :D. The woman sure laugh like mad. &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/5538007409957343652-4004852939970839193?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4004852939970839193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4004852939970839193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4004852939970839193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4004852939970839193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/dont-call-me-baby.html' title='Don&apos;t Call Me Baby'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8918057387042872131</id><published>2009-05-25T21:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T23:50:10.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shades Of Grey</title><content type='html'>I should seriously get a place in the Guiness World Book of Records for being probably one of the most sleep-deprived person ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 200%; background:#000000; color: #ffffff"&gt;Ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept at six last night and dad woke me up at &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;seven&lt;/span&gt; [????] to go cut my hair. I was expecting my hair to turn out like shit -- like what usually happens -- but miraculously, it was fine. Don't know if it's worth sacrificing my sleep for; but whatever. My fringe doesn't flop anymore plus I can boast about having nicer layers and that's what counts. Right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic; font-size: 105;"&gt;RIGHT?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*twitches*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was fine. I couldn't tie my hair up high, though. 'Cos it made my hair look like some &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;chicken's ass&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too exhausted to study so I'm just gonna go sleep. Ciaos, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;///...\\\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe arr, Chloe. &lt;br /&gt;If you don't choi me after this, I'm gonna kill &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; :[.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 80%"&gt;Yes, I must have your undivided attention 8D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gambatteh :).&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/5538007409957343652-8918057387042872131?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8918057387042872131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8918057387042872131&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8918057387042872131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8918057387042872131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/shades-of-grey.html' title='Shades Of Grey'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4574737531286241859</id><published>2009-05-24T13:04:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T16:34:56.291+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Left More Than Stains On The Bedsheets</title><content type='html'>Mid-terms are unhealthy. Very, very unhealthy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stayed up 'till six in the morning translating Sejarah to English. Insomnia does weird things to you. I slept for two hours and woke up and continued. Managed to finish Chapter 1 and now I'm far too distraught to begin Chapter 2. I've had seven cups of coffee, one cup of teh tarik and I'm still falling asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my parents are deadly worried about my mental state of being. Dad made me coffee and mom actually allowed me to go online. I looked so fucking pale when I woke up this morning; which did not help concealing the prominent black circles under my eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four more days. Just four more days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Edited. There's just too much to rant about.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never do anything right.&lt;br /&gt;Everything I do is always fucking screwed up. Whenever I actually try to make an effort, it always backfires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the fucking point of trying then, eh. I don't fucking get you people. After fourteen years of living with me; you should know that I don't do well with pressure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I try to do something right; I just get yelled at, criticized. Never praised. Not even acknowledged. Just kicked around like some stray mutt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might as well just give up and fail everything. Maybe that way you might take notice. Notice how hard I was trying to please, trying to fill up your fucking expectations, trying to push myself to do well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First major breakdown of the week. I hate crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4574737531286241859?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4574737531286241859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4574737531286241859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4574737531286241859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4574737531286241859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-left-more-than-stains-on-bedsheets.html' title='You Left More Than Stains On The Bedsheets'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-3418713643568153776</id><published>2009-05-20T23:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T00:01:20.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crimsoned.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19/05; Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday :).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry I haven't been calling / neglecting you lately D: . &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I hope you aren't too pissed lah.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to call you but your phone was off; I managed to smuggle my handphone from my parents :X. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;But a SMS isn't really enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stupid mid-terms. Can't wait 'till I can &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; use my phone without my parents yelling at me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;I miss you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20/05; Wednesday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God, I know it's only been like three days but I'm already suffering from the lack of going online.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Had B.M Paper 1 &amp;amp; 2 and Civic today. B.M Paper 2 and Civic was fine; but Paper 1 blasted my brain. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's Maths tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Please, please don't let me flunk Maths again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21/05; Thursday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maths wasn't that bad lah, compared to last term. Doubt I'd actually manage to get a B; but oh well, I'm content with just passing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PJK was okay. I honestly do not understand how this world is so screwed up enough to make us sit through an exam for PJK. I doubt knowing the minimum requirements to play for a professional badminton team will get us into universities or ... or &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; for that matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"OHHH, YOU SEE? I SHOOO SMART ARH, I KNOW THE MINIMUM REQUIRMENTS TO PLAY FOR A BADMINTON TEAM!! I ALSO KNOW HOW EACH MATCH SHOULD LAST! I CAN GET INTO ANY UNIVERSITY I WANT! HARHARHAR! I HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH THIS VITAL PIECE OF KNOWLEDGE, NOT LIKE ALL OF YOU! HARHARHAR"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still had library duty even though it was exam. Everyone just basically sat in one corner and did equations. I felt oddly stupid being with the Bayanese and their brains capable of remembering complex formulas and whatever other Maths shit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then suddenly this &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bryan Teh&lt;/span&gt; person comes up and tells me Adam Lambert lost AI. Aiyo, how does this world expect me to deal with two Math exams and Adam Lambert losing AI all in the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;same day&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Came home and watched the finals. Super, super heartbreaking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted that Diana girl to beat Fantasia; she lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted Archuleta to win; Cook won instead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;I WANTED ADAM TO WIN; THAT ALLEN GUY WON.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm gonna stop watching AI :[.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22/05; Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both English papers were fine. Got one question wrong for Paper 1, though. So, yeah.  No more hope for scoring full marks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chinese paper 1; I 100% epically FAIL. Probably gonna fail Paper 2 on Monday too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone went mad after the Chinese paper. Well, actually, just Tim. He kept going around shouting "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;MERDEKAAAA&lt;/span&gt;" and kept acting like the pyscho that he is. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Buuut&lt;/span&gt;, I still love you very, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; much Tim for telling me I'm right about the meaning of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;seize&lt;/span&gt; :D. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But I think I love Thaki-thaki's hair more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chloeeee, cheer up :D.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Twin of me, don't emo &lt;s&gt;too much.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Later your brainwaves become cacat and we can't brainwave properly D:!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;L.L!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I support you, woman! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;___________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, now I gotta go cram History &amp;amp; Science. No idea when my next blog post will be; but this will probably be my last blog post until mid-terms are over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meh. I cannot wait until it's all over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-3418713643568153776?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3418713643568153776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=3418713643568153776&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3418713643568153776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/3418713643568153776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/crimsoned.html' title='Crimsoned.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-1727245006183126315</id><published>2009-05-18T23:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T23:47:37.175+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitched.</title><content type='html'>I'm not supposed to be online, but whatever. Resistance is futile.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Might not be blogging for the next few days 'cos mid-terms suck eggs. So, yeah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone's freaking out over the H1N1 (swine flu) /  epidemic. Dad just came back from work carrying a Guardian bag with &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;fifteen bottles of Dettol&lt;/span&gt;. Bet'cha I'll be wearing &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;face masks&lt;/span&gt; starting next week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a short update. Back to cramming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/5538007409957343652-1727245006183126315?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1727245006183126315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=1727245006183126315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1727245006183126315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/1727245006183126315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/bitched.html' title='Bitched.'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-465447974570583923</id><published>2009-05-17T21:53:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T23:24:23.562+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When All They Do Is Stare</title><content type='html'>Didn't really sleep well last night. I think I stayed up to five a.m. in bed. Insomnia's a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to wake up &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;three&lt;/span&gt; hours later to go for Sunday classes. More epic sleep-deprivedness. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wonderful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom dropped me off and it was one of those rare occasions where I was actually early. But miraculously, I still managed to get in trouble. Bia, KC, Sonia and I had to stay back after class. T'cher threatened to seperate us if we continued "disrupting classes and distracting everyone".&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tchyeah. Like I actually give a damn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Because at this rate, I'd rather go to Jia Yu's church and be Methodist.Or Chloe's, and be christian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm tired of going to classes on Sunday. Tired of it being exactly like school, where you have to fucking write down notes and do revision tests and whatever shit. I do that five times a week, isn't that fucking enough?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I've just realized how much I hate being Catholic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Midvalley after class. Bought some History reference / work books from MPH and proceeded to go window shopping. I went to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;six&lt;/span&gt; shops (F.O.S, Roxy, The Reject Shop, Body Glove and two random shops near GSC) and bought &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt;. All the nice things I wanted were out of stock or size XL / XS. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, mid-terms are already this week and I've still got helluva lot to cram. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pray&lt;/span&gt; I don't ruin whatever brain tissue I have left.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-465447974570583923?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/465447974570583923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=465447974570583923&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/465447974570583923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/465447974570583923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-all-they-do-is-stare.html' title='When All They Do Is Stare'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-5830473497366348139</id><published>2009-05-15T20:00:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T20:52:50.125+08:00</updated><title type='text'>That Beat Went Boom Boom</title><content type='html'>Didn't go to the library today; I overslept. Woke up at 10 and slept until 12:30. School started at two, so I didn't have to rush as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got seriously pissed off during science. Wtf lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Chloe: Eh, teacher. But why does the water rise?&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: *raises her voice* Itulah jawapanlah. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kamu nak apa lagi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's teachers like these that really piss me off. The irrationally stupid kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since this isn't wordpress and I can no longer password-protect my posts; I shall not write a blogpost a mile long over the stupidity of that particular human being inhabitating this screwed up planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh, I hate PMS.&lt;br /&gt;I'm always &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; hungry.&lt;br /&gt;And the cramps are just killing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-5830473497366348139?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5830473497366348139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=5830473497366348139&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5830473497366348139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5830473497366348139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/that-beat-went-boom-boom.html' title='That Beat Went Boom Boom'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4611584138246612268</id><published>2009-05-14T19:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T23:06:49.721+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving My Fingerprints All Over You</title><content type='html'>I'm supposed to be studying but I'm just too tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to school at nine for library duty. Didn't do much, just slacked around studying History. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Miss L asked us to fix a table. I thought, oh okayh lah, just fix a loose table only what -- just bang here; bang there. But apparently, some overly-obese person must have sat on this particular table because it was all dilapidated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Eh, 你打木时候，你一次想你最讨厌的人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Stella:&lt;/span&gt; Orh. *hammers table and chips of wood fly off, while the sound reverberates around the library*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; o__o". 你讨厌说到将句力？?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pity Stella's future husband; gone case lah, the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the power of cellophonetape and a few nails, we managed to piece the table back together (yeah lah, it's cacat. But at least it's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;standing&lt;/span&gt;, right?). Unfortunately, I highly doubt it'd survive if another over-obese person sits on it &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;or if someone from Bayan puts their bag on top of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, I'm outta credit. Too much three-way-calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone wanna teman me at the library tomorrow? Gonna do some hardcore studying for History and Science.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4611584138246612268?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4611584138246612268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4611584138246612268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4611584138246612268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4611584138246612268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-leaving-behind-my-legacy-im-leaving.html' title='Leaving My Fingerprints All Over You'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-6295054853938702807</id><published>2009-05-14T00:13:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T00:42:18.567+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Wrapping This Up In Ribbons</title><content type='html'>Chloe saved my ass &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt; during Maths. I owe that woman &lt;u&gt;alot&lt;/u&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home Economy was fun. Teacher bought us noodles -- apparently it's for some sort of bonus points for the exam lah; showing teacher how much &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;table etiquette&lt;/span&gt; we had. I was so paranoid that I might somehow slip while using my chopsticks and send everything flying away; but I survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rained really hard again today. But it didn't really make a difference, it was still fucking hot as ever. Ironically, I just watched a documentary about the heat wave in Chicago (1995) and Paris (2003) that killed about 52,000 people. Meh, wonder how many people in Malaysia will die from the heatwave going on now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet you everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-6295054853938702807?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/6295054853938702807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=6295054853938702807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6295054853938702807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/6295054853938702807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-not-wrapping-this-up-in-ribbons.html' title='I&apos;m Not Wrapping This Up In Ribbons'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-5693915572847476187</id><published>2009-05-12T21:27:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:42:21.371+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Punkbitch'ed</title><content type='html'>It's finally raining. God, it's been so hot these past few days. Global warming, anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maths was somewhat okay. Managed to rush the homework in time (thank you, Chloe babe for constantly letting me copy your homework; even though it probably annoys you. I love you, woman). Chloe didn't bring her mathematical compass and Pn. Koh decided to go spotcheck everyone to see if we actually bothered bringing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pn. Koh: *walks by&lt;br /&gt;Chloe: D: , shit.&lt;br /&gt;Me: *turns around to block Chloe and fiddles with compass*&lt;br /&gt;Pn. Koh: Where's your compass?&lt;br /&gt;Chloe: *grabs compass on Edrick's table* EH, TASH! *points to pencil inside compass* SEE THIS PENCIL? &lt;span style="font-size: 140%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;IT'S FROM KRABBI ARH&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pn. Koh: *sees compass, nods and walks away*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much happened in school. Except for the fact that &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;Wilson blowjobbed a papaya&lt;/span&gt;. Spent most of the day singing Katy Perry's Waking Up In Vegas with Chloe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shut up and put your money where your mouth is;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;that's what you get for waking up in Vegas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay, gotta cram Science now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;1. Define constipation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constipation is when your &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;shit&lt;/span&gt; cannot come out of your &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;asshole&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-5693915572847476187?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5693915572847476187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=5693915572847476187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5693915572847476187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/5693915572847476187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/punkbitched.html' title='Punkbitch&apos;ed'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-4003746258057776427</id><published>2009-05-11T21:10:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T21:18:46.365+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy, Just Keep Your Thing In Your Pants</title><content type='html'>Damn. Stupid Edrick passed me his &lt;s&gt;swine flu&lt;/s&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;flu babi&lt;/span&gt; disease. My eyes are now all watery and snot keeps dripping out of my nose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grossness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, I might as well sneeze on everyone at school tomorrow. Then maybe the school might close down due to a massive spread of flu babi!!!!!11111oneoneone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah, back to cramming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't you fucking see I've been trying to study like mad? &lt;br /&gt;Can't you fucking see how fucking stressed I am?&lt;br /&gt;CAN'T YOU FUCKING TELL I DEAL WITH ENOUGH SHIT IN SCHOOL AND I DON'T NEED ANYMORE FROM &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I FAILED MATHS LAST SEMESTER. Do you seriously think I'm fucking proud of it? I really am trying my best to study; but do you realize that I have god knows how many damned subjects to cram besides Maths?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hate it when people assume they know everything when they know shit about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;;;;;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Maybe if you were actually around more often, you would understand. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe you wouldn't have been so patronizing.&lt;br /&gt;And maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't hate you so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(null);" onclick="s_toggleDisplay(document.getElementById('12345'), this, 'Show tag &amp;#9660;', 'Hide &amp;#9650;');"&gt;Show tag &amp;#9660;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id='12345' style='display:none;'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tagged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1. How did you feel when you woke up this morning?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I wanted to suffocate myself with my pillow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2. Who was the last person / people you took a photo with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, Fish (the molester D:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3. Would you consider yourself spoiled ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes; my friends are too good to me :]. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4. Will you ever donate blood?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, why not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;5. Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. But I found out that they don't last long X:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;6. Do you want someone to be dead?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;7. What does your last text message say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... :)... sweet dreams...you too. -- WaiJen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8. What are you thinking about right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I'm gonna fail Maths for mid-terms :[.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;9. Do you want someone to be with you right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Loneliness is a health hazard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;10. What was the time you went to bed last night?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 A.M. . I was studying o_o (omfg, I'm starting to sound like some demented nerd)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;11. Where did you buy the tee you are wearing now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hong Kong :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12. Is someone on your mind right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. It's normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;13. Who was the last person(s) that texted you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Bob :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Lucky People To Do This Quiz:&lt;br /&gt;1. Chloe&lt;br /&gt;2. Fish&lt;br /&gt;3. Stanley&lt;br /&gt;4. Suyin&lt;br /&gt;5. JiaYu&lt;br /&gt;6. Thaqif&lt;br /&gt;7. WeiBin&lt;br /&gt;8. Jessica&lt;br /&gt;9. Nina&lt;br /&gt;10. Jason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;14. Who is no.2 having a relationship with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. That's easy -- Yeh Yang. 8D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;15. Is no.3 a male or a female?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Good question :P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;16. If no.7 and no.1 get together, would it be a good?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;17. What is no.1 studying about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably Science :X.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;18. When was the last time you chatted with them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure. I talked with most of them yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;19.Is no.4 single?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No .. wait, I mean yes .. no wait, no ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, dear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;20. Say something about no.2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE'S A FUTURE RAPIST AND A CURRENT MOLESTER O: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;21. What do you think about no.3 &amp; no.6 being together?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah, Thaki-thaki's hair is too hawt for Stan :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;22. Describe no.9.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A calm sadist? o.o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;23. What will you do if no.6 n no.7 fight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aiyoh, who to support arh? Lengchai or Thaki-thaki's hair?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4. Do you like 8?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. &lt;s&gt;But I like her hoodie more.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-4003746258057776427?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4003746258057776427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=4003746258057776427&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4003746258057776427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/4003746258057776427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/boy-just-keep-your-thing-in-your-pants.html' title='Boy, Just Keep Your Thing In Your Pants'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-139026888623399399</id><published>2009-05-10T22:33:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:21:57.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Black Dress With The Tights Underneath</title><content type='html'>Went to Midvalley today. Jalan-jalan around and tried window-shopping but nothing nice was on sell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got bored so I went down to Jusco and tried on nearly &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;every single piece of clothing there&lt;/span&gt; even though I knew I wasn't gonna buy &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; of them. It was super fun. But the salesgirl kept glaring at me as I made me way in and out of the dressing rooms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image000-3.jpg" style="width: 310; border: 1px solid #cccccc; padding: 5px; magrin 5px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image003-3.jpg" style="width: 310; border: 1px solid #cccccc; padding: 5px; magrin 5px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image004-3.jpg" style="width: 310; border: 1px solid #cccccc; padding: 5px; magrin 5px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to carrefour and bought those Stabilo 88 pens. They're fooking expensive, RM 51.90 per set (25 pens). Oh, but whatever lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bought a Mother's Day cake for mom and went home. It looks so fattening -- &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Chocolate Mousse Cake Filled With Vanilla Cream&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image007-4.jpg" style="width: 310; border: 1px solid #cccccc; padding: 5px; magrin 5px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cake had these cute square (and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;edible&lt;/span&gt;!) tiles on the side. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i369.photobucket.com/albums/oo137/tashiielicious/Image007-4.jpg" style="width: 310; border: 1px solid #cccccc; padding: 5px; magrin 5px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay, gonna go off to sleep. I'm planning to wake up super early to study and finish up Maths homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-139026888623399399?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/139026888623399399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=139026888623399399&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/139026888623399399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/139026888623399399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/black-dress-with-tights-underneath.html' title='The Black Dress With The Tights Underneath'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5538007409957343652.post-8059147516631261315</id><published>2009-05-08T19:48:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:26:10.581+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unpredictability</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hello, people. Yes I'm using blogspot for the moment, since I'm way too swamped with studies to find a host and set everything up &lt;em&gt;again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What basically happened is that my host couldn't renew her domain .. so, yeah. I'm probably gonna purchase my own domain after mid-terms, provided that my grades are decent enough. But, yeah. All my updates are gonna be here. And don't expect a new layout here until after mid-terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;, blogspot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been feeling really stressed out this week. I've been studying like mad but I honestly doubt it's gonna help me much. It's like nothing will process itself into my brain and &lt;strong&gt;stay there.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess I am sorta pissed that I'm back to using blogspot (demotion, much?). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh. Back to studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;--Extract from Chinese class:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;老师: 你回你的位子！&lt;br /&gt;Triple C: 老师，听我讲现！！&lt;br /&gt;老师: 不, 你回你的位子&lt;br /&gt;Triple: C: 听我讲!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;老师: 回你的位子.&lt;br /&gt;Triple C: 老师, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;那边没有风水!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5538007409957343652-8059147516631261315?l=fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8059147516631261315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5538007409957343652&amp;postID=8059147516631261315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8059147516631261315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5538007409957343652/posts/default/8059147516631261315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadedgoodbyes.blogspot.com/2009/05/unpredictability.html' title='Unpredictability'/><author><name>Tash</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ticCBvQIeQI/ThK0vMfLE7I/AAAAAAAAAec/sIC_GdYpPPU/s1600/270741_10150301199380540_621440539_9589087_4052410_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
