tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6788420859870560422024-02-19T14:48:47.200+08:00hyellehyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-30468664762908630662012-08-08T00:03:00.001+08:002012-08-08T00:13:18.440+08:00KnotI think I'm still in shock.<br />
<br />
I realise I've been pushing myself <b>hard</b> these couple of weeks. So hard, I almost fell sick again. I did not realize why I felt this<b> need </b>to. Now I think it was a subconscious reflex.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Keep busy. Keep pushing on.</i> </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Shut it out.</b></i> </div>
<br />
I was in a daze.<br />
<br />
...part of me still am. I think.<br />
<br />
Initially, came the flooding grief and sadness. I cried.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>I cried.</i></b></div>
<br />
I still cry... behind this smile I wear. For what else can I do?<br />
<br />
Some look at me and I see them pity me. Please, I <i>don't want</i> your pity.<br />
Some look at me and they cried for me. I am touched, truly; but you don't have to. Thank you.<br />
... and most look at me and I see the confusion in their eyes.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...you seem to be coping well."</i> one said to me. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I only smiled. </div>
<br />
<b>Tell me</b>. What could or can I do, but <u>smile</u>?<br />
<br />
It's hard. During those brief snatches of time, those lulls and in-between moments during the day when you're during something trivial and your mind wanders, I always feel a stab.<br />
<br />
When I walk down the stairs on my way home.<br />
When I sit in front of the TV, without registering what is playing.<br />
When I listen to my mates discuss their graduation dates.<br />
When I just... breathe.<br />
<br />
Sound melodramatic.<br />
<br />
But it's the only way I can describe it.<br />
<br />
It feels like a stab, where your chest goes hollow and you feel like you're crying or bleeding inside. Your mind blanks like white noise and something heavy drifts over your head, like a cloud blocking the sunlight. You feel small, unworthy. You feel like you want to cry, but yet you're too tired to, don't want to.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I felt <b>alone</b>.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Alone... and so<i> lost</i>. So <i>tired</i>. So <i><b>unbearably</b> sad</i>.</div>
<br />
I have cried. I have poured out my feelings. I have never done that before. I don't want to any more. I feel like I'm burdening people. Depending on them. I don't want to.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm supposed to save <i>them</i>, dammit.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I'm pushing on. Like pushing a blade further, deeper; I'm continuing, although I know it means nought to Them. This is for me.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>For me. </b></div>
<br />
So I won't care about how some will perceive me. I won't care how big a spanner I'd be in their works. I used to worry, that my being too keen will cast a bad light on the others. But recently I realised; it's <i>them</i> who choose to leave early, to not come for tutorials, to not come. It's<i> them</i> who are messing with the others so to ensure they don't stand out when they cut or not come.<br />
<br />
As they want. As they feel like it. As it suits them.<br />
<br />
It is difficult to organise tutorials; to set everything up and then try to rally everyone. What frustrates and angers me is when they decide flippantly <b>not to come</b> for <u>no good reason.</u> If you <i>truly </i>cannot come, I <u>understand</u>. It's optional and no one can be expected be available 24/7. Alright, you say you've got commitments, I'll give you that. If that's your situation, deal with it; so you can't come. Okay. <b>Don't bitch to me</b> that it's <i>too late</i> and why can't it be earlier <i>for your convenience</i>. I don't intentionally set it to be late y'know; and neither does the tutor. He/she is eyebrow-deep in work already yet willing to sacrifice some time to teach. One should be <u>super grateful</u> already... not bitching about it being too late. And this is a full-time course; your part-time work/family commitments are <u>your own mess</u> to deal with. Harsh, but I'm done bending over backwards and inconveniencing myself for people like you. To have done the legwork and have the tutor waiting and getting only a couple to teach... it's downright disappointing. I feel bad and guilty as the organizer to have tutorials of near no-shows involving such a fantastic, willing tutor.<br />
And <b>so what</b> if you've completed that particular task in your list; what harm's a little revision? So you limit your learning to the set tasklist they gave you? Have you <b>no curiosity</b>? No eagerness to learn <b>more</b>?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I don't understand. I think it's a freaking bloody fascinating field.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But hey. Maybe that's just me.</div>
<br />
Recently, we had another tutorial with the same tutor. More people showed up this time (A wonder!). This would've been, easily my 6th or more teaching session with him. And I came, specifically for it, as I was based elsewhere that day. After the tutorial, with a self-satisified, we-share-a-secret, smug smile, one of the others said 'That was good. I'm going to come for his tutorials now."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh really? </div>
<br />
Isn't that what I've been telling you <b>all this time</b>? <u><b>Seriously.</b></u> I don't know why, but I just got very miffed off. Don't look so smug. You already missed like a dozen of his other awesome teaching sessions.<br />
<br />
Well. What else to do but roll your eyes and shake your head.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
I got really angry just now. I was going to rant about something else, but got kinda sidetracked into this peeve; which <u>did </u>contribute to this anger.<br />
<br />
I'm a little burned out now. So I will save that rant on the main thing that got me this worked up for another day. For it deserves a long, heart-felt angry recital.<br />
<br />
Till then, I might be spending extra hours, after hours or even weekends showing up where I don't have to.<br />
<br />
As <b>I</b> like it. As <b>I</b> want to.<br />
<br />
Call me crazy. Call me a no-life.<br />
<br />
But I guess this is the best step I can take right now to deal with this emotional knot my life's been recently.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-62239897472010944402012-07-13T15:54:00.001+08:002012-07-13T15:54:26.602+08:00Rock Bottom<br />
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<i>Smile</i> though your <u>heart</u> is <b>aching</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Smile</i> even though its <b>breaking</b><br />
When there are clouds in the sky, <i>you'll get by</i><br />
If you <i>smile</i> through your fear and<b> sorrow</b><br />
Smile and <b>maybe</b> tomorrow<br />
You'll find that <i>life</i> is <b>still worthwhile</b><br />
<br />
If you just<br />
Light up your face with gladness<br />
<i>Hide</i> every trace of<b> sadness</b><br />
Although a <b>tear</b> may be ever <b>so near</b><br />
That's the time you<i><u> must keep on trying</u></i><br />
<i>Smile</i>, what's the use of crying?<br />
You'll find that<i> life</i> is <b>still worthwhile</b><br />
<br />
If you just<br />
<i>Smile</i> though your <u>heart</u> is <b>aching</b><br />
<i>Smile</i> even though its <b>breaking</b><br />
When there are clouds in the sky, <i>you'll get by</i><br />
If you<i> smile</i> through your fear and sorrow<br />
Smile and<b> maybe</b> tomorrow<br />
You'll find that<i> life</i> is <b>still worthwhile</b><br />
If you just <i>smile</i><br />
<br />
that's the time you <i><u>must keep on trying</u></i><br />
<i>Smile</i>, what's the use of crying?<br />
You'll find that <i>life</i> is <b>still worthwhile</b><br />
If you<i> just <b>smile.</b></i></div>
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Unhappy and upset is an understatement. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm just so, so... tired. </div>
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<br /></div>
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F* it all.</div>
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<br />hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-33163420780658579622012-04-28T19:29:00.002+08:002012-04-28T19:29:50.085+08:00SoukaUnexpected. <br />
I think I kinda liked it.hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-30835774836877882192012-03-08T19:54:00.003+08:002012-03-08T21:14:55.761+08:00A Note to YouHi, you.<br /><br />I don't know when we will meet, ...or if we should ever meet.<br /><br />I hope we will. Soon.<br /><br />I have waited, and would probably wait a thousand years if need be, if I knew you would be there at the end of the thousand years and the beginning of forever, if I had an eternity to spend.<br /><br />But I do not.<br /><br />Time passes, and I age. So I hope we do meet, and meet soon. I used to half-jokingly say that I'd like to meet you before I die, but I'm gonna be more selfish now; I want to meet you and spend the <strong>majority</strong> of my life with you.<br /><br />I am feeling a little lost and lonely today. Place a feather on a branch everyday and one day, the branch will break.<br /><br />One of my branches broke today.<br /><br />I came back to broken pairings. I saw seemingly stable relationships end suddenly. I saw how painful it can be when one loves the other, and the other does not; was indifferent, even. I saw a couple share special, secret smiles with one another, while holding hands. I was with a group, but not part of, a group.<br /><br />I saw what Love offers; in one hand, joy, and the other, pain.<br /><br />I am afraid of <strong>pain</strong>.<br /><br />There was a question once posed to me: <em>To have loved and lost, or not to love at all?</em><br />I chose the <strong>latter</strong>; am I truly living it now?<br /><br />This, yet again, <strong>scares me</strong>. Sure, I can put on a brave face, and scoff, 'I can always find friends' 'I can always adopt, be it children or pets' 'Love isn't everything'<br /><br />But there will always be those moments, those silvers of time when you feel unbearably <strong>lonely</strong>, and unbearably <strong>sad</strong>, unbearably<strong> jealous</strong>, and unbearably<strong> lost</strong> till you want to curl up in a hole and cry. When the thought of 'Why me? Why <strong>not</strong> me?' weighs heavy on your mind, and you will feel that you are worthless and ugly and unwanted and this makes you want to retreat somewhere far away, and shun all contact. Forever.<br /><br />I know this. I have been there, and it is a dark, dark moment where dreams turn into mocking shadows that you want to run from, but never seem to.<br /><br />I also know these moments do not last. They will come, creep up on you and swallow you, but you will crawl out of its belly, one way or another. You just will, you just have to.<br /><br />Such is life.<br /><br />So, to help ease the gloom, shake off this funk I seem to have fallen into (yet again), I write this letter to you, <em>ashke</em>.<em></em><br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Hello. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">I do not know you yet, but I hope I will come to know and love you, and you would for me too. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">I will not ask for the sun and the moon from you, for I know you are just human. But you are a very special and dear person to me, and I hope to share the stars with you. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">I will not ask for perfection, be it in temper, face, or abilities, for I want an equal and I certainly am not perfect. I will ask for a sweet temper, for I can be a trial on some days. For this, I promise to try and sweeten my own temper, when yours is frayed or cloudy. I want a partner who will be able to work with me, to be able to wholly contribute and accept my contributions to whatever task or challenge we may face, together, be it raising a platoon of monsters(children) to paying the bills to doing the laundry. For this, I promise to do the same. I ask for a comely face, superficial as it may seem, but reasonable for that is what I will be facing for the rest of my life. For my part, I am no beauty, but neither am I a crone. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Most important, is that you will be able to <strong>love me</strong>, as <strong>I love you</strong>. To accept who I am, all the shiny surfaces and rough spots and sharp edges and missing pieces. To Truly Love me, as time passes, and I change and age, lose my youth, push your buttons once too much sometimes, and as the famous oath goes, 'in sickness and in health'. An Enduring Love, that is what I hope from you, and from me to you, as well. I pray that I will Truly Love you too, to develop an Enduring Love for you, that will let me grow old with you, and die with you. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">An idealistic love, romantic even, but this is what I hope for. This is what I search for. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">So <em>ashke</em>, I do not know you yet, but I hope I will come to know and love you, and pray that you would for me too. </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Sincerely, </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Me.</span>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-21334291878418682442011-07-05T18:43:00.006+08:002011-07-05T18:58:23.379+08:00Sangue<div align="center"><em>Draw your blade across my neck<br /><br />...and <strong>drink</strong>.</em> </div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br />An <span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>addiction</strong></span> can<span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:180%;"> <em><span style="color:#ffffff;">consume</span></em></span></span> you.<br /><br />I<strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"> <span style="color:#999999;">cannot</span></span></em></strong><span style="color:#999999;"> </span>let an<span style="font-size:130%;"> <span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"><strong>addiction</strong></span></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> <em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;">consume</span></em></span> <strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#993399;">me</span></strong>.<br /><br />I<span style="font-size:180%;color:#003300;"> <strong><span style="color:#999999;">won't</span></strong></span> let<span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>you</strong></span></span><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"> consume</span></em><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><strong> <span style="color:#993399;">me</span></strong></span>.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;">I </span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#999999;">won't.</span></em><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhum6F2PjWDe_1dEpWii-dG_HAamLb4XWsd4gUix6JDE6K8c-ua8fwRc81RSeNp7HqMxCFRGNDBrweOCblHduzH0yz3edkmWPgcV13mumWHwQSl2_nHx2Zet7xwpwWCxgbqLfB7V8tPiHc/s1600/walking_away_by_etoile061.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 366px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625818608783733122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhum6F2PjWDe_1dEpWii-dG_HAamLb4XWsd4gUix6JDE6K8c-ua8fwRc81RSeNp7HqMxCFRGNDBrweOCblHduzH0yz3edkmWPgcV13mumWHwQSl2_nHx2Zet7xwpwWCxgbqLfB7V8tPiHc/s400/walking_away_by_etoile061.jpg" /></a> </div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;">sayonara.</span></em></div>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-61068012945334231112011-05-04T22:55:00.003+08:002011-05-04T23:12:16.075+08:00Chin<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIR8WLSbvWy01EBHkxnRP2BS_2HRc2KsMx-jtoQCNImQjYmWkctD0Ix5afVw2IhcGtK8WqZs6xDdiGWC2PRn4la2YzSVr4NIcKUFAnegb7b_lXWLxc5rbB7dEfhEBtPwPwmol2A8jetk/s1600/TOP+bigbang.PNG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIR8WLSbvWy01EBHkxnRP2BS_2HRc2KsMx-jtoQCNImQjYmWkctD0Ix5afVw2IhcGtK8WqZs6xDdiGWC2PRn4la2YzSVr4NIcKUFAnegb7b_lXWLxc5rbB7dEfhEBtPwPwmol2A8jetk/s400/TOP+bigbang.PNG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602877423398069346" /></a><br /><br />Lately I have been addicted to K-POP. <br /><br />SHINee, MBLAQ, BigBang, K.Will, G.D.& TOP, & C.N.Blue. 8D<br /><br />Sometimes, even when a girl has an impassive face, she could be going "KYYYARRGH" within.<br /><br />Can sing + dance + smoulder = *gal's mental state* : hahahahahahah. <br /><br />LOL~ XD<br /><br />Close proximity does that too. Works even better than coffee to keep Hypnos away... for awhile. LOL. Especially when given a double dose = Double Silent Kyaahs<br /><br />Also, always be careful how you touch someone. <br /><br />Even the simplest, lightest contact can lead to brain-freeze. Just saying.<br /><br />So, ...kyaaah. XDhyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-25567132652181881782011-03-06T21:32:00.003+08:002011-03-06T21:54:31.599+08:00<strong>Random MEME<br /><br />Basically...<br />a. People who have been tagged must write their answers on their journal and replace any question that they dislike with a new, original question.<br />b. Tag eight people. Don't refuse to do that. Don't tag who tagged you. </strong><br /><br /><strong>Here goes: </strong><br />1. Make a list of 5 things that are in reach: <br /><em>Laptop mouse pen paper headphones</em><br /><br />2. What is the most and least colour in your wardrobe? <br /><em>Most: black Least: orange </em><br /><br />3. What is one item of clothing you wish you could always wear? <br /><em>jeans</em><br /><br />4. Who's your childhood influence? <br /><em>books. was hooked on Nancy Drew for awhile</em><br /><br />5. What are you listening to right now? <br /><em>Stjepan Hauser and Luka Sulic playing Smooth Criminal on cellos. They're <strong>wicked</strong>. :D</em> <br /><br />6. What is your favourite drink?<br /><em>Coffee, for now</em><br /><br />7. What random song just popped in your head now?<br /><em>After Midnight - Yuna </em><br /><br />8. What did you do today? <br /><em>went to Sydney, did things, came back, procrastinated, did actual work, returned to procratinating</em><br /><br />9. What was the last text message you received <br /><em>My friend telling me our deadline's tomorrow and she hasn't started either. And that she's going to die tonight (finishing it). Well, she won't die alone. </em><br /><br />10. What websites do you always visit when you go online? <br /><em>FB, my uni's website(to chase assignments), email,...</em> <br /><br />11. What is your next big planned purchase? <br /><em>Not anytime soon...? I have no idea.</em><br /><br />12. If you could afford to go anywhere in the world, where would you go?<br /><em>Japan. With a stopover in M'sia.</em><br /><br />13. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? <br /><em>Alive. </em><br /><br />14. Where's your tattoo/Where would you like a tattoo? <br /><em>On my back.</em><br /><br />15. What are you doing this weekend? <br /><em>What weekend? D: </em><br /><br />16. If you could play any musical instrument, which one would you play? <br /><em>violin and piano.</em><br /><br />17. What's the one thing you need the most now? <br /><em>Brains.</em><br /><br />18. Are you a creeper? <br /><em>No I'm a stalker. XD</em><br /><br />19. What is your dream job? <br /><em>Something that gives me satisfaction, money and which I can drop at any moment's notice and still be there when I come back when I want to. So far, in the path I'm on, it's kinda one over three. And even that one wavers a bit. =_="</em><br /><br />It's quite a random meme. I only did it for a break in my assignment. Do it if you want to~ XD<em></em>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-90819947159213680642011-03-03T17:14:00.001+08:002011-03-03T17:15:47.283+08:00Akai<em>Why is it that when you have that red shirt on, we never spend time together?</em><br /><br /><strong><em>Why?</em></strong><br /><br /><em>*sigh*</em>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-88724643584948333762011-02-16T19:25:00.005+08:002011-02-16T19:30:35.734+08:00Ice Cream~<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8YKqflkdvjcY51I9TV-XpOPsqpo0hiFOgaGeAHJlVuZE_4pTBo_EnjrTKR3yGDig9y2CcOlEWv1jdrHcKcwGCT1AFDM8L1yvS7__rnhUrNl4Ikubj-0g7Tx0DG6kT68o37r9BoKFO1Q/s1600/ice-cream-cones.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8YKqflkdvjcY51I9TV-XpOPsqpo0hiFOgaGeAHJlVuZE_4pTBo_EnjrTKR3yGDig9y2CcOlEWv1jdrHcKcwGCT1AFDM8L1yvS7__rnhUrNl4Ikubj-0g7Tx0DG6kT68o37r9BoKFO1Q/s400/ice-cream-cones.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574247121642063618" /></a><br />Got a freebie today~ ♥<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qgzKGSSMI9fWUEfdpyzv3Sj4ATbNfoA1B31LJmyrqkRZgHq-DD5MZ6aZg75bWMePXEF2AO77ekgNHShJ0DT97sPR2GIUYiJjsjhHk8UPA5xlNsJ8hhU8Xq09WBuzkdE80t_94iNPfGA/s1600/ice_cream_sandwich_on_a_stick.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qgzKGSSMI9fWUEfdpyzv3Sj4ATbNfoA1B31LJmyrqkRZgHq-DD5MZ6aZg75bWMePXEF2AO77ekgNHShJ0DT97sPR2GIUYiJjsjhHk8UPA5xlNsJ8hhU8Xq09WBuzkdE80t_94iNPfGA/s400/ice_cream_sandwich_on_a_stick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574247177802315714" /></a><br />Thankies~ ♥♥ *yays*hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-29133159378967087222011-02-15T15:11:00.007+08:002011-02-16T19:32:07.106+08:00Addicted<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQSwl7_5WKcGaGhzt0HwEPK6svdAWn2G3t6oDuRcD5D7y6mhbAFqea3-tHeAVyNg_mXb0FY-DyhwoHCUcoEZSU733MDSAbnHsxcaiQOTCp0fL424yNlUKl2ZV9qRTT-MMbe0tPriW1U8Y/s1600/ca49b3c50b23e252907356de9de651631226641537_full.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQSwl7_5WKcGaGhzt0HwEPK6svdAWn2G3t6oDuRcD5D7y6mhbAFqea3-tHeAVyNg_mXb0FY-DyhwoHCUcoEZSU733MDSAbnHsxcaiQOTCp0fL424yNlUKl2ZV9qRTT-MMbe0tPriW1U8Y/s400/ca49b3c50b23e252907356de9de651631226641537_full.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573818138595980466" /></a><br /><em>Lalaith.</em><br /><br />I want to hear more.<br /><br /><em>Lalaith.</em><br /><br />I'm addicted now. <br /><br /><em>Lalaith.</em><br /><br />And you let me listen to more than that too.<br /><br />Oh, <em>nîn lalaith</em>, <br /><br />....oh, <em>nîn lalaith</em>, <br /><br />........oh, <em>nîn lalaith</em>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><em>...and to that question, hell yeah, of course! lol~ </em>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-34335333623819478602011-02-10T18:13:00.004+08:002011-02-10T18:24:56.988+08:00Clear Skies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZlhlK-rmoYFdYokYNoeOCVojF-q10lq3WZLNyFmKrH6qA0DZGZV8l-IZCJ7aHdfcIc9oFckmgn2PP9nnP_6-93C6ZlUfhyphenhyphen4ZAxD01212zjGJOtw-LhTaYV_3_vibCeW4q11ps2PyqRfk/s1600/820f4f08e1cc90_full.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZlhlK-rmoYFdYokYNoeOCVojF-q10lq3WZLNyFmKrH6qA0DZGZV8l-IZCJ7aHdfcIc9oFckmgn2PP9nnP_6-93C6ZlUfhyphenhyphen4ZAxD01212zjGJOtw-LhTaYV_3_vibCeW4q11ps2PyqRfk/s400/820f4f08e1cc90_full.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572002204939871426" /></a><br />This is how I feel today~ ♥<br /><br />One of the better days~~ Wasn't too slow in the mornings, got to <strong>do</strong> some stuff, and had a nice, no-pressure ending to the day (Thanks, Dr. Ivan~).<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkDlMS_L7pJsr8VN07DvmSztGOmw3vZhqbHa19KLulLIvsDtblwFJiAzu7vU_mqanHxoJVcCrYzKAUtzcDvkq3liC0ajOXqYmpx7mjLNhUAZcQO3uKN9BLWnSdRh5N9xbSv7CbI-14Q4/s1600/pressconf04qd4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkDlMS_L7pJsr8VN07DvmSztGOmw3vZhqbHa19KLulLIvsDtblwFJiAzu7vU_mqanHxoJVcCrYzKAUtzcDvkq3liC0ajOXqYmpx7mjLNhUAZcQO3uKN9BLWnSdRh5N9xbSv7CbI-14Q4/s400/pressconf04qd4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572003022834514258" /></a><br />And some doctors really <strong>do</strong> look like this. XD *yay life♥*<br /><br />Now my goal is to locate <strong>moar</strong>~♥. They're even better if they're charming, smart, <em>cheerful</em> & eager to teach you~ <br /><br />Haha, and study as well, of course.<br /><br />How can I call myself a girl if I can't <em>multi-task</em>? XD XD ♥hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-30809234989428995212011-02-09T14:57:00.005+08:002011-02-09T15:42:32.776+08:00Black CloudsFeel quite apathetic now. A lil' dejected. <br /><br />Today was dull & slow compared to yesterday. I feel like we accomplished more yesterday. <br /><br />I want to do more. I want to see more. <br /><br />I don't want to come off as overzealous. Maybe I care too much? <br /><br />I feel a bit washed out near the evenings. But still wanna do more, accomplish more. 'Cause I feel like an insect, a ghost when consultations/discussions/procedures happen. <br /><br />Insignificant. <em>Stupid</em>.<br /><br />Plus, <em>he</em> wasn't very cheerful today. I was counting on his cheerfulness for an 'energy' boost. An inspiration, to end a lagging day. Ah, well. He did have a nice red shirt on. Suits him. :) <br /><br />Shouldn't let such things affect me so. I gotta be more 'independent'. I gotta read up. I gotta <em>liveeatbreathe</em> at the hospital.<br /><br />It sounds so... lonely.<br /><br />Maybe I'm yearning for my <em>ashke</em>. Or <strong>an</strong> <em>ashke</em>.<br /><br />Maybe I'm burning out. And it's not even Friday yet, goddammit. <br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAhGvmWCGre0jB4pQQqrzYo6VhyMY80kxpYWzZGVXDGV70RFQAzLti5sxDbQh0BgGAoyq3Rstg_LhH9mzajigQ1kQVesA-N7qMrd6nafY2TTSDQomJi0R6ClXP0aKnMtbBo16VGopDRg/s1600/full.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAhGvmWCGre0jB4pQQqrzYo6VhyMY80kxpYWzZGVXDGV70RFQAzLti5sxDbQh0BgGAoyq3Rstg_LhH9mzajigQ1kQVesA-N7qMrd6nafY2TTSDQomJi0R6ClXP0aKnMtbBo16VGopDRg/s400/full.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571589527568753954" /></a><br /><br /><em>The Hanged Man</em>. That's what I feel like now. <br /><strong><br />Suspended</strong>. <em>Stilled</em>.<br /><br />I hope I can break out of this mood. I <strong>will</strong>. I <em>have to</em>.<br /><br />But for now... I shall go, sit, ponder and listen to One Republic's <em>Goodbye Apathy</em>. <br /><br />Just for awhile, ...just for awhile.hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-2442234363889211742011-02-04T13:42:00.004+08:002011-02-04T13:51:09.729+08:00Hormones<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4wfSTommJEzcj-oZVtEOszCK0JDLYq66dzqQhjzcG20siBm4cpM0mJACJux_JPtQKKzBbxKdXhXAo5eBrixu35Pl5zORL76V13M46Ty-5nj0Hw8MJz_2YAl2auNnuEZej-Uj0APF3pg8/s1600/Sugar_2xmacro%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4wfSTommJEzcj-oZVtEOszCK0JDLYq66dzqQhjzcG20siBm4cpM0mJACJux_JPtQKKzBbxKdXhXAo5eBrixu35Pl5zORL76V13M46Ty-5nj0Hw8MJz_2YAl2auNnuEZej-Uj0APF3pg8/s400/Sugar_2xmacro%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569705882268084578" /></a><br />2nd week of Endo ended. It's mainly DMs, DMs, & more DMs. <br /><br />My team is really nice; both Registrars & the Resident. The consultants who I've met are cool too; one's really laidback. <em>*stamp of approval*</em> Lol, he's already charmed my partner. XD <br /><br />And I got a new eyecandy~ He's so <em>sweet</em>~ >w< <br /><br />So watch your <em>sugars</em>! XD & <strong>Happy Chinese New Year</strong>!!hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-13797754910977176582010-08-29T00:41:00.003+08:002010-08-29T01:11:18.986+08:00Cherries28th was a day for a few of 'first-times'.<br /><br />One of them involved spirits. No, I didn't get drunk. Actually a bit light-headed, with a slightly burning upper lip, but other than that, I had my First One-Shot Whiskeys & my First Drinking Game (I got off easy; the other players knew I was a newbie & looked out for me). Haha, happened at a friend's farewell party at another friend's house. Got a ride home from a sober driver, so don't worry. :) Am typing and did my laundry already. :D <br /><br />The other one is Hinamori Momo. Went to Taylor's Asaban; it's not fair they get a <span style="font-style:italic;">lakeside</span> campus. Damn nice. <br /><br />Also, the Mantoux test came back negative. LOL. I'm confirmed TB-free; here I come Down Under~<br /><br />Okay, that's all for now. I'm tired and the connection isn't very strong.<br /><br />:D Overall a good day. :Dhyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-14386900431877892022010-05-20T21:35:00.004+08:002010-05-20T21:45:42.686+08:00ScatterbrainOMG.<br /><br />Now I know what tongue-tied and hyper-ventilating and heart leaping outta your chest means.<br /><br />Embarassing to lose your words like that, but... what happened next was ...<span style="font-style: italic;">nice</span>. Muahahaha.<br /><br />>////<!!!!!!!<br /><br />askjdgwalsrjkwghaelkfjsdbnaljfgasldjkfghasldkfuyavlbgiufweya;irjhawcvilervwaervwe<br /><br />...won't get no sleep tonight....<br /><br /><br />Good luck for tomorrow, かなり~~hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-4061645950054022372010-05-20T20:25:00.004+08:002010-05-20T20:33:51.557+08:00Tampering Memories...Was reading snatches of Twilight a day ago.<br /><br />I really really love the way Edward 'tampers' with Bella's memory, prior to bringing her to the baseball field.<br /><br />So ...<span style="font-style: italic;">smexy</span>. >w<<br /><br />That ...boy knows how <span style="font-weight: bold;">important</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">useful</span> the<span style="font-style: italic;"> neck</span> can be. XD<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDleXSyVxsQh1XxOc8CFGw4WE49G35VDGhmIcZIFwlkXdLDccKoxsDIceHjlMg08z3bPgq9Qb3PlHp6JI0zZ1cro0epKJT1QgYUYzJkbQGiAB9bqSlhZ6vgkDyQHJNjrttwhCM722hjQ/s1600/gallery_main-robert-pattinson-kiss-kristen-stewart-10142009-05.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 352px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDleXSyVxsQh1XxOc8CFGw4WE49G35VDGhmIcZIFwlkXdLDccKoxsDIceHjlMg08z3bPgq9Qb3PlHp6JI0zZ1cro0epKJT1QgYUYzJkbQGiAB9bqSlhZ6vgkDyQHJNjrttwhCM722hjQ/s400/gallery_main-robert-pattinson-kiss-kristen-stewart-10142009-05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473327965384230162" border="0" /></a><br />Something like this... >w<<br /></div><br />But.........<br /><br />How about this?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FuuNYwq7humqn9lfi3ZzMsHu_m62CC7Jiodh9VCuthJduA5XQ4UnnODnve7RE185W-ahRu9gYrDxsSbvP8Dne9fzsX0gonicGO7Iat80SzB5adaEP51wY6dQp_0Lvl-fxxFnOz0-vT0/s1600/13843_215620143054_571963054_4178946_3744013_n.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FuuNYwq7humqn9lfi3ZzMsHu_m62CC7Jiodh9VCuthJduA5XQ4UnnODnve7RE185W-ahRu9gYrDxsSbvP8Dne9fzsX0gonicGO7Iat80SzB5adaEP51wY6dQp_0Lvl-fxxFnOz0-vT0/s400/13843_215620143054_571963054_4178946_3744013_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473328188796188690" border="0" /></a><br /><br />XD<br /></div>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-85421173795021644672010-05-20T19:58:00.002+08:002010-05-20T20:04:21.605+08:00Something You Can't HaveWhy are the things you can't have always the one you're interested in the most?<br /><br />Or is it the other way round...?<br /><br />Oh, how much you frustrate me... and not know you do. Looking at you so close, yet not so.<br /><br />Stupid heart, will you find another? And <span style="font-style: italic;">melindo</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">ashke</span>, ....<span style="font-weight: bold;">where the hell are you</span>?hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-15155632865491718462010-05-14T22:59:00.006+08:002010-05-14T23:37:32.553+08:00Musician LoverListening to some instrumentals, and I had a sudden thought.<br /><br />What's it like to have a gentle musician as a lover?<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwdJuB0PEMA5uQExATTwS3eoDD27CxNEQYex8LXa4KYp9e6HoVJxLG_OcyjLtQxW0BCaK0VHrhWUb9F9ECIoLohIizOCcq3DGyjdI9VMTaprYlmhvngpwswMY3pT_24Yr98IHfl54FD4/s1600/20061215tamaki02hw2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwdJuB0PEMA5uQExATTwS3eoDD27CxNEQYex8LXa4KYp9e6HoVJxLG_OcyjLtQxW0BCaK0VHrhWUb9F9ECIoLohIizOCcq3DGyjdI9VMTaprYlmhvngpwswMY3pT_24Yr98IHfl54FD4/s400/20061215tamaki02hw2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471147223112521186" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Chiaki, a conductor. Sexy, not?</span></span><br /></div><br />I'm very very attracted to music, and to think of having a lover who is musically talented... wow.<br /><br />He'd play or sing to me, ...everyday. And life would be almost perfect.<br /><br />Especially if he were an awesome pianist.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMga4lhyphenhyphenvF80mndRDz5bY2qQ71KwxVkymOHXT7PgCyMPu6DCDYW19W_EaCHNhIOn1CsP1U3tThjnW9Dippl1GfzfL0JxQEcM0NmZIDqyoB7X-FX-if1Tfnj1JxTvFPvBUASyVJPpU9ww/s1600/l_44903a598c894da5a36ce83367d87982.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMga4lhyphenhyphenvF80mndRDz5bY2qQ71KwxVkymOHXT7PgCyMPu6DCDYW19W_EaCHNhIOn1CsP1U3tThjnW9Dippl1GfzfL0JxQEcM0NmZIDqyoB7X-FX-if1Tfnj1JxTvFPvBUASyVJPpU9ww/s400/l_44903a598c894da5a36ce83367d87982.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471146833323767634" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">SEXY, no?</span></span><br /></div><br />I love the piano, and how it sounds. So whenever I hear or watch someone play a very beautiful piece on a piano, it's heavenly. I'd stop and just stare in awe. So, to have a handsome pianist lover...<br /><br />Music affects me greatly. It can soothe me, make me smile, cry, want to jump up and dance, ...and more.<br /><br />Nothing would be more romantic than having the one you love sing or play for you, as a gift or just <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">because</span>. It would rival the best kiss and equal a hug on those rotten days when life makes you want to break down and cry.<br /><br />To me, it's one of the best ways to tell someone that you really love them.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kCWajJbTS3EsHpYYUvxUJaBLNGcz1YdeZLAz_CFAURJshjYfcRT3SnhDCcXZ1llZrm_L8svknIOtzM1SlrcUMxmcnZQIp0pCAf2-88UpM0-IYF-8hHQqe1vAd5YXAr-HKTvrO6rDsQQ/s1600/johnny-depp-piano-smoking.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kCWajJbTS3EsHpYYUvxUJaBLNGcz1YdeZLAz_CFAURJshjYfcRT3SnhDCcXZ1llZrm_L8svknIOtzM1SlrcUMxmcnZQIp0pCAf2-88UpM0-IYF-8hHQqe1vAd5YXAr-HKTvrO6rDsQQ/s400/johnny-depp-piano-smoking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471146951304600130" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;">SEXY.<br /></div><br />So, maybe if I'm lucky, I'll be able to find one for myself. If not, well, he has to go and take up some music classes now, doesn't he?hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-29287447418440471102010-05-06T22:27:00.003+08:002010-05-06T22:31:51.618+08:00CloserTwo more weeks to summative.<br /><br />MSK and CNS are HELL.<br /><br />After that, two more weeks to EOS.<br /><br />*sob*<br /><br />...and I can't make myself study seriously.<br /><br />Cannot. <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Cannot</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Must. Start.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">TT_TT</span>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-29791494298890886762010-03-30T19:45:00.005+08:002010-03-30T19:50:28.541+08:00Arthas<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrEqGBAyQj1gRrPRw0ZJ54FYy40GkNVR9jcjlG2DwCEHvaiiC_DiEB5nWYlJcVBNnRlWNFtisa5IkpqJL0DCTNnHlI7gRWi5qKiytiJkdgl3evqC-M5vi7WfJNDlylvq_HhHEM8J_N4GQ/s1600/wrath-of-the-lich-king-iphone-wallpaper.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrEqGBAyQj1gRrPRw0ZJ54FYy40GkNVR9jcjlG2DwCEHvaiiC_DiEB5nWYlJcVBNnRlWNFtisa5IkpqJL0DCTNnHlI7gRWi5qKiytiJkdgl3evqC-M5vi7WfJNDlylvq_HhHEM8J_N4GQ/s400/wrath-of-the-lich-king-iphone-wallpaper.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454391878926553330" /></a><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sometimes, I get the feeling that I might've gotten into the wrong field.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like after watching something as <b>awesome</b> as this.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS11axSHLek&feature=response_watch"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "></span></a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS11axSHLek&feature=response_watch">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS11axSHLek&feature=response_watch</a> </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0GJNm1uLJAdZ86XGyMoObR6QEi-rXVBkdPOVS_u_6WhBybWNLcMHAwCMIho2biR4RS9n8rSGfTrodq_hyI9HAllyMHqGKZtuhr7EXfyJOW9ztY1mphRtCfIHbBuS1hULVZsdsGPr3Wk/s1600/arthas.png"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "></span></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0GJNm1uLJAdZ86XGyMoObR6QEi-rXVBkdPOVS_u_6WhBybWNLcMHAwCMIho2biR4RS9n8rSGfTrodq_hyI9HAllyMHqGKZtuhr7EXfyJOW9ztY1mphRtCfIHbBuS1hULVZsdsGPr3Wk/s1600/arthas.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0GJNm1uLJAdZ86XGyMoObR6QEi-rXVBkdPOVS_u_6WhBybWNLcMHAwCMIho2biR4RS9n8rSGfTrodq_hyI9HAllyMHqGKZtuhr7EXfyJOW9ztY1mphRtCfIHbBuS1hULVZsdsGPr3Wk/s400/arthas.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454391767498900994" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0GJNm1uLJAdZ86XGyMoObR6QEi-rXVBkdPOVS_u_6WhBybWNLcMHAwCMIho2biR4RS9n8rSGfTrodq_hyI9HAllyMHqGKZtuhr7EXfyJOW9ztY1mphRtCfIHbBuS1hULVZsdsGPr3Wk/s1600/arthas.png"><br /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sometimes. </div>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-57037870211401343172010-03-13T19:47:00.000+08:002010-03-13T20:08:52.952+08:00Climbing WallsI went for indoor wall climbing yesterday evening. <br /><br />It was... challenging, to sum it all up. <br /><br />My forearms and shoulders are a bit stiff now... (I had difficulty bringing the toothbrush to my mouth) So I'll continue this post tomorrow.<br /><br />I think. Or Monday. <br /><br />Cheers. =)hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-8418964079478678902010-03-03T19:32:00.001+08:002010-03-03T19:35:03.010+08:00WistfulSo much for our frantic, excited planning, sibling of mine...<br /><br />The Power That Is was <span style="font-weight: bold;">not</span> amused.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">TT_TT</span><br /><br />So no GACC.<br /><br />Ah, well.hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-45357313863585835132010-03-01T22:41:00.005+08:002010-05-20T20:09:31.362+08:00StormI don't know why I can get so irritable so easily lately.<br /><br />Maybe I'm like my mum; I store and store and store all the annoyance and anger until the last hurled rock breaks the brittle surface. Then it's no more quarters given, it will <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">never</span> be the same, and I will never never ever let you come closer into my life.<br /><br />Maybe that might change, that I might soften, and we might be the same old again. One day, if you change, if you realized, if you stopped annoying me.<br /><br />But not now. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Never</span> now</span>.<br /><br />I feel like something has ...broken, inside me. Something has fled.<br /><br />My rose-tinted glasses shattered, and now I see the world differently.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Give it back.</span> I feel uncomfortable and unhappy. Alone, of sorts.<br /><br />If this is what you call growing up, I might not want to. But Life, ....she is many things, I guess. Like what I read in a book once, though it was describing the sea, I think it can apply to Life too.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >"She gives, and she takes away. She is a fickle mistress, both cruel and kind, gentle and harsh, loving and hateful."</span></span><br /></div><br />I feel old. Old, and <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">contaminated</span>, somehow. Words I never would have uttered, harsh, hard feelings I never would have felt... I've heard myself say words like those and caught myself venting out those feelings that I never did have before.<br /><br />It hurts. It saddens me. I don't know why. I never knew I cared so much. Too much, perhaps. And how little some did.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >"When you meet a person, do not expect him or her to earn your respect; it is so great that it must be earned? Give it to them freely, until they prove themselves unworthy of it." </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >I agree.</span><br /><br />And so I pull back my respect, as a friend, for you.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >"Treat others as you want others to treat you."</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I agree.<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">You tossed me aside. My friendship. Just like that. That <span style="font-weight: bold;">hurt</span> me. Proves how much I mean to you. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Not much.</span> And you hurt a dear friend of mine. That made me truly <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">look</span> at you and I find you <span style="font-style: italic;">lacking</span>. So now, <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />I. Toss. You</span>.</span><br />Harsh, but I find it too exhausting and draining for me. Frankly, you're not worth it either.<br /></div><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">"When you hate a person, it shows you still care. Indifference works much better."</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I agree.<br /></span></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">So now, I will not give another extra hoot for you, not more than mere acquaintances. I will not lower myself anymore just to give in to you. I will not waste my breath trying to talk to you and try to entangle this snarled mess; why bother? I've said things like this before but you didn't get it. I'm pissed and frustrated and filled to the brim and I cannot take it anymore.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">So, so long <span style="font-weight: bold;">sucker</span>. And <span style="font-weight: bold;">no thanks</span> for all the grief you caused me.<br /><br />I'll be stronger now. I have to venture out now, and throttle my fear. Won't let no one run roughshod over me. Even if they do, not without losing an arm. And both legs.<br /><br />Maybe that's what kept me so cooped up, so <span style="font-weight: bold;">chained</span>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Fear of being alone. Fear of the unknown. Fear.<br /></div><br />Won't wait for my knight anymore, tardy as he is. (He and I are going to have words about his punctuality when we meet, trust me.)<br /><br />So I'll not declare anything grand or glorious. Heaven knows how 'successful' I am at changing myself.<br /><br />I know I'll never be the social butterfly not do I want to, but I'm setting out to find those rare and few jewels among the many precious stones out there, who I can call my closest <span style="font-style: italic;">heart-sibs</span>. Those, along with my family, I'll keep close to my heart, and hopefully, along with a perfect one I can call my <span style="font-style: italic;">ashke</span>.<br /><br />Sigh. I needed that rant.<br /><br /></div></div>hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-43133059699092190102010-02-25T17:28:00.002+08:002010-02-25T17:30:32.247+08:00Data, data, dataInputing data collected from the surveys is boring, tedious and extremely frustrating.<br /><br />Especially when your eyes feel like packed sand and your head weighted with a bag of lead.<br /><br /><br />I know.<br /><br />I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">living</span> it now.hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-678842085987056042.post-16002107181355404262010-02-24T18:04:00.002+08:002010-02-24T19:13:50.995+08:00Survey-ingI had to go house to house today asking ppl 50+ questions about their family, house, and breastfeeding practises.<br /><br />I will never abuse those survey ppl ever again. I respect and symphatize with that lot.<br /><br />Imagine:<br /><br />1) you look at the 50+ questions you need to ask ppl who you have to knock loudly on their doors to interrupt them in whatever they were doing and pray despairingly that they won't throw dirty water at you once they answer the door.<br /><br />2) you arrive at the designated site, where it's <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">unbelievably dirty</span>, dark, and altogether suspicious. Even refugee camps look cleaner.<br /><br />3) no one answers your prolonged knocking and yelling for about 15 consecutive units that are cluttered worse than three landfills.<br /><br />4) the unit, which had lots of noise inside before, falls silent once you knock and inquire, with that silence stretching.... till there's a <span style="font-style: italic;">click</span> as the <span style="font-weight: bold;">door is locked</span>. Yeah, we wouldn't know you just locked the door in our faces right? After all, we're standing <span style="font-style: italic;">just right <span style="font-weight: bold;">outside</span> it</span>.<br /><br />5) the hot, hot, hot, hot, sun.<br /><br />6) we're not getting paid for this. At all.<br /><br />7) you make us wait and wait and wait outside your tastelessly ornate and frail-looking gate, under the freaking blasting sun, acting like no one's home when we already saw you scramble behind the sofa through your open front door when you heard the doorbell. Smooth move, jerk.<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br />However, you do get some nice, beautiful(in my eyes, as they were nice to us miserable ppl) friendly ppl, who took the time to let us ask them meaningless and random questions.<br /><br />Two, a Malay couple with their youngest daughter and an Indian housewife, even invited us in to sit while we did our survey. I cannot express how <span style="font-weight: bold;">deeply</span> grateful and thankful I am to those ppl who didn't mind indulging us with a lil' silver of their time.<br /><br />And I'm also grateful to those who at least answered their door to decline, rather than leave us hanging and hollering outside like demented, hot, sweating hooligans.<br /><br />See? It doesn't take much to make someone's day a bit nicer.<br /><br />At one point, we got so desperate, we even interviewed an 8 year old boy, as he was home alone. We stood outside his house gate and quickly asked him. At that point, we were that desperate to finish out allotted 35 slips of questionnaires.<br /><br />And there was a house with a beagle-like dog who is a damn <span style="font-weight: bold;">coward</span>. All bark, no bite. Started barking when we approached the house while the occupant dived behind the sofa. Continued barking in a bored, repetitive way... like it's saying, " Look, since I've nothing better to do, I'll just bark at you once every 3 seconds, you know, just to show that I'm a guard dog, who you know, <span style="font-style: italic;">guards</span>, and... where is my idiot master? *rolls eyes*" All this....<span style="font-style: italic;"> at a distance</span>. XD XD<br /><br />When we started walking away, it inched closer and came right to the gate, still woofing away of course... and backed away when we <span style="font-style: italic;">turned around</span>. It's like, it must have a specific amount of distance between it and us. We tested it. It backed away, matching every step we took forward with one back. I'm surprised it isn't marigold yellow and the house isn't robbed blind.<br /><br />Anyways, we finished our allotted slips, along with everyone else... but still have to go again tomorrow because of the irritating, do-by-the-book lecturer assigned to us. She's new, and not growing much in popularity among my group. Fussed so much on our questionnaire. <span style="font-style: italic;"><insert></span><br /><br />So, those who read this, thanks. This is one of my rare, long, word-filled posts.<br /><br />And please, please be nice to those students who come and do house-to-house surveys.hyelleherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05538565073906931704noreply@blogger.com0