<?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-5960215768092647320</id><updated>2012-01-27T13:52:36.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Page In Pencil</title><subtitle type='html'>- just another soul walking this Earth -</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>119</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-429201688069788444</id><published>2011-05-02T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T05:11:35.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today I have seen what people can do just to win over an argument. I was utterly disgusted by the things that person did to the extent that I do not want to associate with him ever again and unfriend him on facebook. It might be a trivial thing to you. But I can assure you that for me to want to sever tie with someone is a big deal. And the amount of hostility shown is just unacceptable ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-429201688069788444?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/429201688069788444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=429201688069788444&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/429201688069788444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/429201688069788444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/05/today-i-have-seen-what-people-can-do.html' title=''/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-367960317444147363</id><published>2011-04-30T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T02:36:32.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith Hill - It matters to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 11px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 11px; "&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Maybe I still don't understand the distance between a woman and a man"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Baby tell me where'd you ever learn&lt;br /&gt;To fight without sayin' a word&lt;br /&gt;Then waltz back into my life&lt;br /&gt;Like it's all gonna be alright&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know how much it hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we don't talk&lt;br /&gt;When we don't touch&lt;br /&gt;When it doesn't feel like we're even in love&lt;br /&gt;It matters to me&lt;br /&gt;When I don't know what to say&lt;br /&gt;Don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Don't know if it really even matters to you&lt;br /&gt;How can I make you see&lt;br /&gt;It matters to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I still don't understand&lt;br /&gt;The distance between a woman and a man&lt;br /&gt;So tell me how far it is&lt;br /&gt;And how you can love like this&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm not sure I can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we don't talk&lt;br /&gt;When we don't touch&lt;br /&gt;When it doesn't feel like we're even in love&lt;br /&gt;It matters to me&lt;br /&gt;When I don't know what to say&lt;br /&gt;Don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Don't know if it really even matters to you&lt;br /&gt;How can I make you see&lt;br /&gt;It matters to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-367960317444147363?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/367960317444147363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=367960317444147363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/367960317444147363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/367960317444147363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/04/faith-hill-it-matters-to-me.html' title='Faith Hill - It matters to me'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1212860393103092382</id><published>2011-04-30T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T02:24:14.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kohlberg - Gilligan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Back in psychology class, I learnt that Kohlberg's stages of moral development. In his theory, he basically claims that humans go through six stages of moral development as follows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Stage 1: Obedience to authority&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Stage 2: Nice behavior in exchange for future favours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Stage 3: Live up to others' expectations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Stage 4: Follow rules to maintain social order&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Stage 5: Adhere to social contract when it is valid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Stage 6: Personal moral system based on abstract principles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;[Copied from wiki]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;One of the criticisms for Kohlberg's theory I remember most vividly is that from Gilligan. She said that the theory discriminates women whose morality may focus more on maintaining order and harmony in relationship. As a result, girls may be seen as less morally mature than boys. The view continues to be projected on adult men and women. Also, apparently, the experiments conducted by Kohlberg to construct the theory was mainly on male participants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;When I first learnt this criticism, my first reaction was to side with Kohlberg. This is because I felt that there was no reason why women may not apply abstract general principles to determine whether something is morally right or wrong. I felt that there is no reason why women may not free themselves from the social rules and obligations imposed on them and synthesize a few general principles they wish to apply to morality. At that point, I, arrogantly thought that I may have well reached the final stage in which I apply my own principles to judge morality dilemma problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;However, recently, I realized that women do view morality differently from men. It might just be true that the majority of us, in a morally ambiguous situation, we are more affected by emotions and relationships than moral reasons. Of course, there is nothing wrong with that. But in this society in which rationality is valued more than emotions, are we then less correct and less mature? People have long recognized that women are from Venus and men are from Mars. But it may bring a bigger issue here. It is an issue of inequality. If men are more rational, will women always lose out? How do you ever rationalize women's emotions because our mood swings can be very troublesome? It's all a too familiar advice to ask women to think and not to put your hearts first. But how is it ever possible for all women to do that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;I just keep thinking. But I can't find a solution. Or am I just too much of a perfectionist trying to think of a way to reconcile the difference absolutely. If we are all so different, why must there always be the most correct way to all the problems? But then again, if there is no correctness, how is this world going to function at all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;...Just me rambling again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1212860393103092382?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1212860393103092382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1212860393103092382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1212860393103092382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1212860393103092382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/04/kohlberg-gilligan.html' title='Kohlberg - Gilligan'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7978985983700279277</id><published>2011-04-13T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T02:30:17.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm bracing myself for another disappointment that is to come. It has become a bit of an obsession to check my email frequently these past few days, trying to cling on to the hope that something better may turn out. Am I doing things in the wrong way? It's a little heartbreaking when I can't do things properly even within my forte. But I guess all of us experience this, you know, to want something so bad and work hard for it but still can't get it ... But is it ok if someone could just give me a reason why I just can't make the cut?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7978985983700279277?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7978985983700279277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7978985983700279277&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7978985983700279277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7978985983700279277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-bracing-myself-for-another.html' title=''/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-709140156455964723</id><published>2011-04-03T02:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T02:48:44.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a word of prayer</title><content type='html'>Dear the Eternal Being,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time, I have not prayed to You. But today, from the bottom of my heart, in the most sincere way possible, I want to pray for someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, I guess I have committed a sin. My heart is not generous enough to continue to love and support someone. I can no longer take care of him. So could You please find some time to take care of him? He is an extremely good person. He has spent his whole life looking after others. He has always managed to find a way in his heart to treat every single person he met well. He truly is a giver. One of my greatest regrets is perhaps that I have let him down. But I cannot undo what I have done. I can only pray to You that You will bless him with all the things that he deserves. My punishment is the guilt I will carry for my sin. But he has done no wrong. So please please bless him with good luck, health and love. I'm begging You ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-709140156455964723?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/709140156455964723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=709140156455964723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/709140156455964723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/709140156455964723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/04/word-of-prayer.html' title='a word of prayer'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6417946116956652956</id><published>2011-04-01T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T19:27:06.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thinklab_2nd April</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting in ThinkLab right now. There is one group of students sitting behind me who keep eating and talking. Well, there is no explicit rule in the lab that says you can't eat or drink. But it is a little sad if you act considerate to others only when you are prohibited to do otherwise, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6417946116956652956?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6417946116956652956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6417946116956652956&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6417946116956652956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6417946116956652956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/04/thinklab2nd-april.html' title='thinklab_2nd April'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4780967380361721912</id><published>2011-03-23T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T09:01:12.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In the King's Speech, it is so much easier for the King to curse and swear. When it comes to vulgarity, he does not stammer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, too, can express myself only when there is a lot of anger and frustration inside. Other than that, words just don't come out naturally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4780967380361721912?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4780967380361721912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4780967380361721912&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4780967380361721912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4780967380361721912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2011/03/in-kings-speech-it-is-so-much-easier.html' title=''/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2736103449345663445</id><published>2008-09-21T04:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T05:00:42.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>crying inside</title><content type='html'>My mom asked me, "Why didn't they give you that prize?" And I'm sad. Yes, I am ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2736103449345663445?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2736103449345663445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2736103449345663445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2736103449345663445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2736103449345663445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/crying-inside.html' title='crying inside'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6703922262773278504</id><published>2008-09-20T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T16:53:11.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>the surgery has been painful but I guess it has to be like this ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6703922262773278504?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6703922262773278504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6703922262773278504&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6703922262773278504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6703922262773278504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6710739810111736750</id><published>2008-09-19T00:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T00:29:44.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a wound</title><content type='html'>There has been a wound. It scratched a little. I put a little remedy on it. It did not heal but I thought it was just a small matter, so I ignored it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then it scratched again ... and again ... and again ... Everytime it hurt, I again put a remedy ... But it was never healed ... So I decided this time, I should take a surgery. I hope it will heal. But of course, there is a chance that the surgery is not successful ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... just because I'm learning not to be afraid, to follow my impulses sometimes so as not to regret ... (thanks to the messenger of God)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6710739810111736750?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6710739810111736750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6710739810111736750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6710739810111736750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6710739810111736750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/wound.html' title='a wound'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7467839313852237954</id><published>2008-09-12T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T09:45:44.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful girl - Jose Mari Chan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="txt_1"&gt;Beautiful song ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful girl, wherever you are&lt;br /&gt;I knew when I saw you, you had opened the door&lt;br /&gt;I knew that I'd love again after a long, long while&lt;br /&gt;I'd love again.&lt;br /&gt;You said "hello" and I turned to go&lt;br /&gt;But something in your eyes left my heart beating so&lt;br /&gt;I just knew that I'd love again after a long, long while&lt;br /&gt;I'd love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain : It was destiny's game&lt;br /&gt;               For when love finally came on&lt;br /&gt;               I rushed in line only to find&lt;br /&gt;               That you were gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever you are, I fear that I might&lt;br /&gt;Have lost you forever like a song in the night&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've loved again after a long, long while&lt;br /&gt;I've loved again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Repeat Refrain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful girl, I'll search on for you&lt;br /&gt;'Til all of your loveliness in my arms come true&lt;br /&gt;You've made me love again after a long, long while&lt;br /&gt;In love again&lt;br /&gt;And I'm glad that it's you&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, beautiful girl&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/5960215768092647320-7467839313852237954?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7467839313852237954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7467839313852237954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7467839313852237954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7467839313852237954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/beautiful-girl-jose-mari-chan.html' title='Beautiful girl - Jose Mari Chan'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7269085283767016267</id><published>2008-09-06T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T19:46:14.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sad or stressed</title><content type='html'>what should you do when you are sad or stressed? I don't know ... perhaps I should read a book ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things amazing about humans is that we adapt. We get used to all kinds of conditions and situations. However, it might turn out to be problematic when we get used to all the luxury. For instance, I am not very rich now. So I dream about ... perhaps ... 10 billion dollars. But what if someday, I get that kind of money, I will soon get used to it and will not find that it is a lot of money. The same thing goes with many many other things. When you don't have love, you yearn for one. When you have it, you won't think it is a big deal anymore. And then, we won't be happy as we think we should be. How unlucky we are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what if we are contented with what we have? Then, we won't strive to achieve other better things. Then, we come to a standstill and we shouldn't be standing still, I suppose ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, between a trying harder and harder and be happy with what you have, where is the optimal point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Husband and wife share a lot of things in common and also have significant private space. Again, where is the optimal point of that? Does the optimal point shift from time to time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7269085283767016267?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7269085283767016267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7269085283767016267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7269085283767016267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7269085283767016267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/sad-or-stressed.html' title='sad or stressed'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4994094277380365459</id><published>2008-09-05T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T19:31:09.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It is a true blessing to be able to put into words what you feel and publish it. No one may ever read it but you let some of the things that have been bothering you out of your system&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... aahhhh ... a cup of water to replenish what you have lost in the last 1 hour or so ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4994094277380365459?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4994094277380365459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4994094277380365459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4994094277380365459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4994094277380365459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-is-true-blessing-to-be-able-to-put.html' title=''/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6341031491427076369</id><published>2008-09-05T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T19:26:30.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monica - Richard</title><content type='html'>Do you remember how Monica and Richard in Friends were when they were together? They were happy. They were really made for each other. Not once we saw them having any big fight ... but the world is not perfect. They have only one major difference which eventually caused them to break up and have the most difficult times of their lives: Monica wanted children while Richard didn't. It's natural for Monica to want children but for Richard, he himself loved children. He, in fact, had children of his own. However, the problem was that he ALREADY had children. Yes, he had already gone through the whole terrifying cycle of the initial excitement of having a baby, the sacred feelings of being promoted to the position of a father and then, the sleepless nights because of the crying babies or the depressing periods because of the rebellious teenagers, ... Richard had been there and done all of that. But Monica had not and she wanted to experience everything herself. She did not want to skip steps and jump right to the happy old age for the retired with the one she loved. Richard finally agreed to re-do everything but his reluctance deterred Monica. She did not want to force him ... And so they split up ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at the stage of complications. Unlike a lot of people who come to the real world through the doors of hardship or of going places to learn from the wisdom of different people or of helping the parents do some work, I come to the world using the doors of the intellectuals. Please do not mistake me for being arrogant since it might seem that I imply myself as an intellectual. No, no, what I'm trying to say here is that I come to the world, not by hands-on experiences but by thinking. I am like an audience, seeing the world through the glass doors, trying to observe it and finally, understand it. Of course, you will scorn at me and say that that means I have not come to the REAL world at all because thinking is just nothing. Yes, I guess you are right. But this is the only door I have available to me now. I was not thrown out of my family to work. Instead, I was sent overseas for a scholarship. So my job is to learn and use what I learn to serve society at last. So apart from the occasional CIPs, there is not much I can experience from the real world ... so I guess I can only think about it ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with thinking is you can only see the problems, the issues, and perhaps the solutions but you cannot grasp the extent. For instance, you may know this problem and this problem exist .. but you don't know which one is more important and deserves more of your attention. And so I have got trapped, trapped in the circle of thinking, of round and round, of two equivocal sides of the argument ... and I'm confused. Were I in the real world, I would have been sure to figure out which side is more important, perhaps not to me only, but to the people around me as well. But no, I'm now trapped and am having a headache. Of course, like I always say, I am the cause of my agony. No one have asked me to question this and that and then get stuck in the crazy web of complications. And of course, there is obvious solution: simplify things. Oh, that sounds easy. But it's not. For Monica, she could have easily accepted the simple and obvious solution of digging the short-cut tunnel to reach the very end sooner and enjoy her life with Richard without fearing of getting fat because of all the pregnancy or becoming a scary mother every kid hates. But she didn't choose that. For myself, I haven't gone through the whole process of complications - perhaps getting deeper and deeper into a confusing mess and then eventually find the light and discover something worth knowing or eventually give up and discover that simple things are better or eventually be administered to a mental hospital. And I want to go through that ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monica wanted to go through the whole cycle with Richard but he didn't want to. So she had to find someone else. That was because she was not a loner (and in this case, did not want to be a single mother). For most of us who enjoy the company of others, we are also like Monica. We need someone to walk with us and share our frustration and depression. Yes, we need someone to WALK WITH US. We don't need someone to be at end of the race, waving to us and encouraging us, "don't give up! Just go! You're nearly there!" We prefer discussion and exploration, not teaching (I'm referring to the journey through life and not the education system, :D). We prefer dialogue and not monologue ... yah, I know I'm beating around the bush and have not come to the topic sentence. It's just because there is one point I want to say but just don't know how to put it right. It's just about the sadness and a little bit of emptiness inside when I realize there are some parts of my journey when I have to walk alone, struggling and balancing what I have on my own ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... You don't understand ... you don't have to ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6341031491427076369?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6341031491427076369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6341031491427076369&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6341031491427076369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6341031491427076369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/monica-richard.html' title='Monica - Richard'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7855683303203130646</id><published>2008-09-05T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T08:12:54.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.. my anniversary .. random thoughts</title><content type='html'>There are just so many things that i don't understand ... so many ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realised i have changed gradually. I used to be an understanding person, accepting everyone and everything they said. Perhaps that is just because i was naive. Now, i've changed. I criticise a lot more and become this little fussy and selfish person ... just don't know what i should do now ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does it mean by "partner"? Can someone please tell me? I used to think that i know ... but now i don't know ... i just don't ... Am I happy now, i mean, sustainably happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a little secret .. a dark secret of mine .. perhaps a fantasy. It keeps my heart feel young and excited ... but it's not right to have such a fantasy .... Sometimes that fantasy comes alive in my dreams and i remember being so happy in those dreams but ironic as it may seem, i never ever want those dreams to come true because they will put me into a very difficult dilemma. It is such a dark secret that i cannot tell anyone .. cannot utter a word about it. I can just let my heart feel it ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all want to be unique. We resent the idea that we are just like somebody else ... or maybe it's just me who feel that way. I like to think that I'm one of a kind but i guess that cannot be the truth. I don't like to fall into categories. I want to be one of the exceptions. Yah, you might say what i just said is ironic but i guess you know what i mean. Never mind if the majority of the world think i am just another one but i do want a few people to think i'm special. I know i do suffer from superior complex and I do try to humble myself but at this moment, i have not been very successful. Of course, i can defend myself that my desire of being special is just normal because it is, simply put, a desire to be loved and respected. But, oh well, i guess i'm just another one ... I have fallen into the trap of romance or maybe i am just pessimistic ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging is one way to have company. When you have company, you tend to blog less because all your anger or your frustration is heard by a real person. Besides, when you have discussed some problems with someone and that someone has helped you solve it, you will not be bothered too much about those problems when they re-surface. I used to blog a lot and I used to hope a lot of people will read my blog because as I said, i suffered from superiority complex and I wanted to assert my identity and tell the world who I was ... but now I don't. I don't want a lot of people to read all of these anymore ... I just want to let my emotions and thoughts out ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Kuna said he had some conditions that his brain would not stop thinking ... Will I be like that if i don't stop thinking now? ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one guy once told me that girls are always afraid that their romance will not be as beautiful as a poem .. but is it right for a girl to expect her romance to be as beautiful as a poem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loners are generally narrow-minded and more selfish but is it possible that they are happier than the rest of us who have to deal with all the complications of our interactions with others?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7855683303203130646?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7855683303203130646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7855683303203130646&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7855683303203130646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7855683303203130646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-anniversary-random-thoughts.html' title='.. my anniversary .. random thoughts'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2272071818973993819</id><published>2008-09-04T01:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T01:26:03.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>there is no other way</title><content type='html'>you always think you're right and i'm wrong. There have never been any ways to persuade you to change your mind. You stick to your own ideas and stereotypes. Ok, i won't say that you are wrong but please be a little bit more open-minded to other possibilities. Things change along the way ... you know that better than I do but you don't seem to believe in that as much as i do ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said you wanted to train me for the real world since i have been so pampered in my life. Everyone praises me. No one wants to hurt me. Ok, i guess that is because they love me. I expect those who hate me to say harsh things about me, and then i will break down and then i will need you there to pick me up. I don't expect you to say harsh things about me ... or at least, i don't need that. You always say i'm smart but i don't think you really believe that. You just think you should be aware of that ... ok, fine ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for once and for all, i will do something to make you see then. And i force myself to write it down here so i will stick to it and not give it up along the way ... sorry if you are not a part of this ... because i have asked you to ... but since you refused and hurt my pride, i', going to do it alone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2272071818973993819?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2272071818973993819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2272071818973993819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2272071818973993819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2272071818973993819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/09/there-is-no-other-way.html' title='there is no other way'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8137093859810072657</id><published>2008-08-21T01:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T01:58:35.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prelims ...</title><content type='html'>this is seriously the most depressing times i have ever had!!! What does the school want to achieve from the papers??? They want to select olympiad students? oh no no, it is too late for that. Then WHAT? My goodness! I'm telling you, I was a lot more comfortable with RJ papers than this. This cannot be the first time they set prelims papers right? Why can't they set moderate papers, with doable questions and a few hard, more challenging ones? Exams are used to test how much students have learnt from lectures and tutorials, not to test whether they have explored the blind spots in the topics! Those are the things for researchers! They should not state "you are recommended to spend 1 hour on this section". They should state "you are recommended not to do the paper. You are far too stupid for it." I'll feel better that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8137093859810072657?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8137093859810072657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8137093859810072657&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8137093859810072657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8137093859810072657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/08/prelims.html' title='Prelims ...'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3944088949266419670</id><published>2008-08-20T04:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T04:09:18.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>will i ever have what they have&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3944088949266419670?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3944088949266419670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3944088949266419670&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3944088949266419670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3944088949266419670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/08/will-i-ever-have-what-they-have.html' title=''/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6838769560875720290</id><published>2008-08-17T02:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T02:23:54.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>been a little bit addicted to watching short clips of all those korean dramas i used to watch ... "stairway to heaven", "autumn heart", "winter sonata" ... I like those movies. I know you will say that they are lengthy and too sentimental. Oh well, I'm so much in love now so i guess all those sentimental stuffs and I just click. One of the things that are quite consistent in all the movies is that the girl / guy continues and holds on to the love she / he has for another person even if she thinks that person has already passed away. I know you may say that that only happens on movies because we, in the end, needs to move on and take care of ourselves and our emotional needs ... but i guess ... if some day, my boyfriend and i have to part for some reasons, i want to love him enough today so that when we meet again, we will re-love each other ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... the love that we share is the love that makes music and movies ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6838769560875720290?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6838769560875720290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6838769560875720290&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6838769560875720290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6838769560875720290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8979489727879767715</id><published>2008-08-12T04:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T04:19:39.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buc thu tinh dau tien - the first love letter</title><content type='html'>one of the sweetest songs i've ever heard ... such sincere and genuine feelings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_GwsULK_dVc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_GwsULK_dVc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8979489727879767715?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8979489727879767715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8979489727879767715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8979489727879767715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8979489727879767715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/08/buc-thu-tinh-dau-tien-first-love-letter.html' title='Buc thu tinh dau tien - the first love letter'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1797872925539578498</id><published>2008-06-16T02:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T02:43:37.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>back to Singapore</title><content type='html'>... ... ... it just gets too comfy back home ... ... ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1797872925539578498?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1797872925539578498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1797872925539578498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1797872925539578498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1797872925539578498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/06/back-to-singapore.html' title='back to Singapore'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2824300500445322648</id><published>2008-06-02T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T21:55:59.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...thankful...</title><content type='html'>Yah ... sometimes you just need to let the voice inside of you speak for yourself ... other voices just drown it ... yes ... it's been a long time since i listen to myself like this ... no other voice has made too much sense like this ... yes, judge me all you want ... i will listen to the voice of truth ... yes, i'm self-centred but listen to other people just makes me lose direction ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2824300500445322648?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2824300500445322648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2824300500445322648&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2824300500445322648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2824300500445322648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/06/thankful.html' title='...thankful...'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7206090506747178172</id><published>2008-06-02T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T21:38:53.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>save me from myself</title><content type='html'>I just do not know what to say, what to think and what to write right now. Ever since i was young, i was told that i'm different, that i'm adorable, that i'm lovely, that i'm intelligent, that i'm one of the best things that have ever existed. Of course, i was told too, to be humble and to think of others besides myself. My mom has never praised me too much. She always reminds me that in this wide world, i'm just another person, special to her, yes, but not to everyone. But growing up as the only child and blessed with a not-too-bad appearance and the so-called above-than-average IQ does not do good to my humility. I stand out in my special way. I have never proclaimed myself of being the best and i do personally think so, too but ... my quietness, my silence says the opposite to people. They think i think very highly of myself ... too highly of myself to talk to people ... This just reminds me of Mai and the time we watched "pride and prejudice" together. I just can't remember the names of the characters ... just remember the fight in the rain when Mr Main Character accused Ms Main Character's sister of being prideful and not caring enough for his best friend. But the truth is "she's shy". Now, i remember too the time when Darren asked me, "you're very shy, right?" But the irony is that i don't look shy. I look confident and calm and it seems like i have the whole world in my hand. It looks like i'm of the higher class, of something different. I remember a lot of my friends writing in my autograph book, "I hated you when i first met you. You never said a word ... looked like you didn't care about anyone ... but after a while, i realise .... ". But the sad thing is most people will not have that "after a while" with me. To be honest, i did not realise the image i portrayed because i did not know enough to realise that. I was innocent. I took life as it is. I was unafraid. That's what makes me look like that ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realised that i have rambled on too long. In the end, I remember what Zul told me, "you are responsible for what you stand for. If it's some kind of image you portray that you don't want people to see, it's your job to change it." I guess it's true then. Who cares about me? Who cares if i'm truly shy or not? What they see is what they see. What they judge is what they judge. I judge people too many times. A lot of times, i have been wrong. So i guess a lot of people could have been wrong about me. But again, if so many people think of me that way, maybe it's right. Maybe i'm the one who is wrong about myself. Perhaps, surrounded by love and praises since i was young traps me in the circle of thoughts of thinking i'm a good girl. Perhaps i'm not ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment, i just wish someone can tell me something. At this moment, i wish i have a religion, something that helps me out of confusion. But, being a cynical person i am, perhaps, too, the best advice can only be from myself because i will always argue with those who give me advice. And perhaps, too, like one of the pastors in my school said, "you don't have to know everything. You just have to know enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could split into two. I want to talk to myself, to sort things out ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i guess i'm feeling much better now ... as i just realised something untrue about what people told me ... i'm just shy ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7206090506747178172?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7206090506747178172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7206090506747178172&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7206090506747178172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7206090506747178172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2008/06/save-me-from-myself.html' title='save me from myself'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6776966428967222674</id><published>2007-12-27T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T19:14:47.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections on "Sicko", a film by Michael Moore</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Time and time again, Michael Moore depicts how an average American suffers from the established system they are living in. This time, the health care system is under attack. Healthcare system is neither run nor taken care of by the government in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. Everything seems to be in the hands of private enterprises. Once it is in the hands of private firms, the whole system deviates from the sole and most important purpose of health care which is to improve people’s health. Their concern now is money and profit. Therefore, to make more profit, they reduce their cost by paying less and denying people their treatment which will cost money. Everything seems inhumane. The movie truly makes me wonder how it is possible that the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; government is not taking care of its citizens when it is so infamous for all the protectionist measures in trade to ensure that its industries and its farmers are safe from foreign competitors. It seems contradictory, irrational and perhaps does not make sense. However, the differences seem to reconcile when I recall how the American system has been repeatedly castigated for being heavily influenced by special interest groups. It then leaves the average American at the mercy of these groups. If these groups have less mercy upon them than upon the stack of dollar notes, I guess they can depend now only on their luck or on God to send them some good Samaritans. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finished watching the movie, I was confused. Should I believe what Michael Moore said? He is famous for reproaching the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; government for not taking care of the Americans. Thus, in this movie, he may have had agendas and may have exaggerated some of the facts. Besides, what about all the textbook knowledge that I have learnt? My secondary four teacher and textbook told me that the British National Health Service was causing a huge financial problem to the British government and that it was inefficient and it was discouraging people from working. That was the lesson &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Singapore&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; learnt from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Britain&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and thus, it never has established a welfare state. Therefore, is the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;America&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; just doing the right thing by allowing private enterprises to take care of the health care system? &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, on a second thought, Michael Moore is, after all, an American. The American textbooks and teachers must have told him long ago that the American system was the best in the world. Hence, what makes him turn away from his mother land must have irked him a great deal and must have been true. Moreover, as I dig more deeply into the notion of a welfare state, I think it is a fair idea and there are loopholes in the argument in the textbooks. Textbooks say welfare state has made people idle. They wanted to work no more because the state provided them with everything they needed if they were unemployed. This argument seems to me now simplistic and to some extent, wrong. The first economic principle anyone has ever known is that scarcity exists. People want more and more possessions which their salaries cannot satisfy, let alone meager unemployment benefits. Certainly, qualifications need to be made for those who are lazy and regard work as burden. These people simply cannot be helped. They will be the same in any system that they are in. Therefore, while the welfare state provides people with a safety net in times of need, if properly managed, I believe it will not discourage people from working. In the end, I turn to trust Michael Moore that the government should take more care of its citizens and that at least a universal health care should be established in the country.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my economics teacher has said, being the government is very difficult. There are always trade-offs to be made. While those government officials are getting their headaches over the labyrinthine problem of managing the country, agitated citizens complain and demand for more. However, I have experience an epiphany by now. Governments should not care too much about ideologies. Instead, they should practice what is called realpolitik. &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;America&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; may advocate capitalism but there are things that ought to be done in the socialist way, as quipped by Michael Moore when he highlighted a few of the public services present on American soil. Likewise, a socialist needs to know incentives created by a capitalist system are fundamental to growth. Most importantly, there is one thing we all need to know. A few people in the government can never have the answers to all the problems that need to be solved in the country. Power given to every man on the street is thus, crucial. They all need to have a say. I eventually think Michael Moore did a splendid job in exercising his right as an American citizen. Perhaps he did far more than what had been expected of him because he did not only voice his disturbance but he helped other people do that as well. Bravo to Michael Moore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6776966428967222674?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6776966428967222674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6776966428967222674&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6776966428967222674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6776966428967222674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/12/time-and-time-again-michael-moore.html' title='Reflections on &quot;Sicko&quot;, a film by Michael Moore'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-9171099535111621737</id><published>2007-10-12T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:12:18.775-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tenor Luciano Pavarotti dead at 71</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RxAvti0OWiI/AAAAAAAAABo/yjdP8M3gr94/s1600-h/pavarotti.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RxAvti0OWiI/AAAAAAAAABo/yjdP8M3gr94/s400/pavarotti.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120645235806722594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/Music/09/06/pavarotti.dead/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-9171099535111621737?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/9171099535111621737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=9171099535111621737&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/9171099535111621737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/9171099535111621737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/tenor-luciano-pavarotti-dead-at-71.html' title='Tenor Luciano Pavarotti dead at 71'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RxAvti0OWiI/AAAAAAAAABo/yjdP8M3gr94/s72-c/pavarotti.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1470453581452644197</id><published>2007-10-12T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T19:20:17.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dear darling</title><content type='html'>A letter to the Darlings &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear darling,&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I was missing you today. I was trying to concentrate on doing something productive, but my mind did not seem to be able to think of anything but you … It's amazing … it's unbelievable how the two of us can get together. I had been standing outside, watching friends one by one love and be loved, getting a little bit jealous … just like how when I was a child, I wanted to have the toys my friends had, seeing my friends in love had made me relive that childhood desire to want to possess what others possess. But, in one side of me, I was thinking to myself, “No, I don’t need this. I’m strong. I’m reliable to myself. Guys will just disappoint me. They are not up to my standards.” … and then, I found myself day by day getting a little bit older, a little bit lonelier, and increasingly thought love would just be a strange concept to me …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;… until the day I found you … yes, I must use the word “found”. It was not love at first sight, so I don’t use the word “saw”. You came to me as a friend … then, gradually, I discovered who you are … “found” you …and found myself endeared to all the things you do … and then, the next thing I knew was I subconsciously talked about you to my friends … more frequently … and in a more special way … Gradually, every time I saw you, I just smiled. If you smiled back, I smiled even wider … Gradually, every time I heard the sound of your name in any occasion spoken by anyone at all, my ears became keener than usual. If other pretty girls were talking about you, I was scared … I was scared that I was not as pretty as them. I was scared that the way I presented myself was not as attractive as them. I was scared that they would catch your eyes before I could even approach you, hoping to talk to you like normal … casually as if I did not feel anything special about you. Please trust me. My heart is pure. It has not been contaminated with materialistic desire. Perhaps, in the future, it will be but today, it isn’t. So please at least trust me today that I really love you for who you are and not because of anything else … and then, I have dreams about you. In my dreams, you confess to me that you love me too … and you care for me … and we will always be happy together … and I was scared that dreams would always remain as dreams … But although I was hoping that someday you would actually love me, I would tell myself that being your friend should be enough for the poor heart of me. It was me who loved you dearly and it was absolutely not your fault if you would never love me back … I would still be loving you and perhaps slowly allowing the dreams of being together to drift to a faraway place when we finally would have to part as friends …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the unbelievable has happened …when the dreams came true. Again, I was a bit scared … because my life is changing … but I could not hide the grin on my face … Suddenly, the world turned around and smiled at me. Suddenly, I remembered all the nice words people said to me and all the good deeds people did to me. Suddenly, all hatred, all grudges and all burdens were lifted up … I can feel love …And then, we see each other more often. I’m happy to see that you are happy too. Now I understand when it means when they say, “I could fly when you smile. I walk a thousand miles to hear you call my name.” … yes, when you smile, I want the whole world to know how gentle and loving you are … when you call my name, my heart is engulfed with some kinds of cloudy thing that stop my heart for one moment and then soothingly and slowly brings it to the world filled with love … whenever my phone blinks its light, signalling incoming messages, I grab it eagerly, hoping it’s your message. If it’s not yours, my heart is saddened a little. Even if my phone does not blink, fearing that I have missed the blinking light accidentally, I still grab the phone, opening … and sighing, “nothing”. Whenever someone comments that we look very nice together, I hope I do not blush too much … and you know when I usually blush? I blush only when people say out loud my deepest and most secret hope and desire …Do you think we look nice together too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say love is only beautiful at the first stage. At the second stage, love will be stormy. Love will be filled with uncertainty, anger and tears. If love cannot withstand this stage, love will die. Some people even say you don’t need the disputes and arguments. After the initial stage of romance, love will just fade. We are still at the first stage, my darling. I do not know when we are going to get to the second stage. I do not know if our relationship will survive after that stage and last till eternity. But let us not to worry too much about the future. Let us love each other with all our hearts today so that if anything happens tomorrow, we will not regret we have not done enough today … Let us not be afraid … Let us not be selfish …Let us spread the happiness we have when we are together to other people, let them know that two unified people are so much more than the sum of two separate individuals … and that everyone else will always have us by their sides … If anything happens tomorrow, let us remember that we have worked hard to arrive here and now … let us forget all the wrong but carve to our hearts all the right … and let us never to forget that love is never easy but it is worth living for …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you,&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1470453581452644197?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1470453581452644197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1470453581452644197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1470453581452644197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1470453581452644197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/dear-darling.html' title='dear darling'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7322138419970766692</id><published>2007-10-12T18:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T18:45:24.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>blog at school</title><content type='html'>i'm using my PDA, connecting to the school wireless network and writing this boring post in the desperate attempt to entertain myself. Today, most of good friends alr ponned school. the only people I see in school belong to cliques that I cannot break in. so what am I gonna do now? getting bored? I guess so. how can you not get bored when you look around you, you see competition takes priority over being humans? Let me explain to you what I really mean. You see here, my class is quite competitive. they want to win. they want to be the champion for everything and so that's left no place for lousy people like me. I can only be standing around, Hoping to be as supportive as I can towards my classmates ... but the more I stand around, the more I realise that they won't care if there are no supporters around. actually, it's my fault because I do not shout, do not cheer out loud .. and so they hardly notice me. You may be accusing me of being hypocritical because you think i'm very competitive in my studies. That's where you are wrong. I'm not competitive at all. i'm just doing my work. i'm just doing what I want to do. I don't want to be better than any one of you because I know very well that there will be ppl who are better than me ... but why am I wasting my time telling you this as if you would unde stand.. what I want to achieve in my life is not to be the best ... but just to be a human ... with integrity, with passion, with determination ... and with care and love so that I can make someone else's life a little bit better ... anyway, I guess you can just do whatever you want to do. I guess it's time i'm not going to care anymore ... as long as you don't invade into my life, I guess I just don't care .. but on second thought, I must admit that I will still care because I still want to be your friend and I want your presence in my memory as well ... your presence as a good friend .. but I guess you don't want it then ... or perhaps you don't need it. that is something of lowest priority to you now ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7322138419970766692?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7322138419970766692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7322138419970766692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7322138419970766692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7322138419970766692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-at-school.html' title='blog at school'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1744859731593483785</id><published>2007-10-08T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T04:27:42.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>are you a right brained or left brained woman in love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Left Brained In Love&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/areyouarightbrainedorleftbrainedwomaninlovequiz/left.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Cool and clearheaded&lt;br /&gt;Tend not to get swept away&lt;br /&gt;Dependable and trustworthy&lt;br /&gt;Able to look at thing objectively&lt;br /&gt;Honest and direct in relationships&lt;br /&gt;Rely on standards when picking a man&lt;br /&gt;Good at solving relationship problems&lt;br /&gt;Ready to compete for your sweetie's heart&lt;br /&gt;Articulate, a good conversationalist, and witty&lt;br /&gt;Think overly romantic displays are a waste of time&lt;br /&gt;A few serious boyfriends as opposed to many flings&lt;br /&gt;Notice all of the details about your guy -  good and bad&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/areyouarightbrainedorleftbrainedwomaninlovequiz/"&gt;Are You a Right Brained or Left Brained Woman in Love?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1744859731593483785?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1744859731593483785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1744859731593483785&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1744859731593483785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1744859731593483785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/are-you-right-brained-or-left-brained.html' title='are you a right brained or left brained woman in love?'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4625580815901992065</id><published>2007-10-08T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T01:09:23.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how do men see you</title><content type='html'>Haha ... a mix of a 5-yr-old girl and a 30-yr-old woman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEE9E9" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Men See You As Understated&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFAFA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howdomenseeyouquiz/see-understated.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are an intreguing mix of girl and woman.&lt;br /&gt;You're feminine, quiet, and a total mystery to most men.&lt;br /&gt;Yet they often feel the urge to protect you, even if they don't know you.&lt;br /&gt;You *are* a flirt, but you usually only flirt with those you know well&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howdomenseeyouquiz/"&gt;How Do Men See You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4625580815901992065?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4625580815901992065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4625580815901992065&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4625580815901992065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4625580815901992065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-do-men-see-you.html' title='how do men see you'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3747561483134304679</id><published>2007-10-07T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T07:34:21.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>leave out all the rest - linkin park</title><content type='html'>A very nice song ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt I was missing&lt;br /&gt;You were so scared&lt;br /&gt;But no one would listen&lt;br /&gt;'Cause no one else cared&lt;br /&gt;After my dreaming&lt;br /&gt;I woke with this fear&lt;br /&gt;What am I leaving?&lt;br /&gt;When I'm done here?&lt;br /&gt;So if you're asking me I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;When my time comes&lt;br /&gt;Forget the wrong that I've done&lt;br /&gt;Help me leave behind some&lt;br /&gt;Reasons to be missed&lt;br /&gt;Don't resent me&lt;br /&gt;And when you're feeling empty&lt;br /&gt;Keep me in your memory&lt;br /&gt;Leave out all the rest&lt;br /&gt;Leave out all the rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be afraid&lt;br /&gt;I've taken my beating&lt;br /&gt;I've shared what I've made&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong on the surface&lt;br /&gt;Not all the way through&lt;br /&gt;I've never been perfect&lt;br /&gt;But neither have you&lt;br /&gt;So if you're asking me I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;When my time comes&lt;br /&gt;Forget the wrong that I've done&lt;br /&gt;Help me leave behind some&lt;br /&gt;Reasons to be missed&lt;br /&gt;Don't resent me&lt;br /&gt;And when you're feeling empty&lt;br /&gt;Keep me in your memory&lt;br /&gt;Leave out all the rest&lt;br /&gt;Leave out all the rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting&lt;br /&gt;All the hurt inside you learned to hide so well&lt;br /&gt;Pretending&lt;br /&gt;Someone else can come and save me from myself&lt;br /&gt;I can't be who you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;When my time comes&lt;br /&gt;Forget the wrong that I've done&lt;br /&gt;Help me leave behind some&lt;br /&gt;Reasons to be missed&lt;br /&gt;Don't resent me&lt;br /&gt;And when you're feeling empty&lt;br /&gt;Keep me in your memory&lt;br /&gt;Leave out all the rest&lt;br /&gt;Leave out all the rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting&lt;br /&gt;All the hurt inside you learned to hide so well&lt;br /&gt;Pretending&lt;br /&gt;Someone else can come and save me from myself&lt;br /&gt;I can't be who you are&lt;br /&gt;I can't be who you are&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3747561483134304679?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3747561483134304679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3747561483134304679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3747561483134304679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3747561483134304679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/leave-out-all-rest-linkin-park.html' title='leave out all the rest - linkin park'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1096362890632376135</id><published>2007-10-02T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T07:30:39.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>exam</title><content type='html'>As I was eating the biscuit, i imagined how Mr Kayden Lim would say, "I tell you. You'd better sit there and finish a 3-hour paper. Don't just take your own sweet time. Do a little bit then go and eat or watch TV..." Hehe. I'm sorry, sir! in the midst of exam when the hostel is like a macrowave oven and we, hostelites, are hot meat, steaming with more and more pumping of information into our tiny little brain, i cannot help seeking my comfort in this piece of biscuit after sitting for two hours straight to do some paper. Hehe. And now i'm online to blog some more. Ai yaya ... i guess you are extremely disappointed with me now. :). Anyway, this is just a random post to record down one of these slightly more positive moments when i feel rather at peace during this exam period. At first, I really want to compliment those people who live in the same floor and who are from the big land which bears creatures that look like humans but not really like humans (sorry for the confusion but i hope my friends are able to understand who i am referring to, haha) ... given the fact that i've seen little more than just the empty black plastic supper bag (oh, sorry, i forgot. i've seen the coffee bags you left especially for us to sit and drink coffee, comtemplating, "show me the meaning of being hungry", haha), the fact that you have not sneaked out all the biscuits and Oreos in our absence, especially during exams to feed your hungry stomach and your noisy talkative mouth at night, is really impressive. I must say thank you to you, really! Next thing, i really admire my teachers, especially my econs teachers for injecting some light-hearted comment at the end of the question paper for essay, "The end of the paper! Happy Children's Day!" i must admit there is something very special about econs teachers ... is it because of the subject? i don't know. They all have the same style of being quite relaxed and they do seem to be contented with life. I want to talk about economics now already but this is not the appropriate time so i will tell you later. Economics is a special subject, very special ... Exam period is always special. you get to see the sides of the people around you that you will never see at some other time. Is exam after all a good thing? Without exam, will they study? But with exam, have they really studied? Or is it just some frantic cramming? Is the saying, "easy come, easy go" true for this case? If it is true, I feel bad ... that means exam is just an illusion of people having learnt something when in fact, they dont. If it is not true, to be honest, i do not feel good either ... simply because it is unfair for me, and for many other people who yearn for true knowledge and sacrifice all the things we could have enjoyed. Anyway, it is time to get back to study or Mr Kayden Lim will really get angry. Haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1096362890632376135?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1096362890632376135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1096362890632376135&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1096362890632376135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1096362890632376135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/exam.html' title='exam'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6743275139480308543</id><published>2007-10-02T04:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T04:09:58.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>your inner gender</title><content type='html'>Haha, time and time and again, it seems to suggest that i'm a guy ... hahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Inner Gender is Male&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsyourinnergenderquiz/male.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are rational, matter of fact, and quite dominant.&lt;br /&gt;You like to get things done, without any emotional messiness.&lt;br /&gt;You truly don't understand most women. And you definitely feel more comfortable around men.&lt;br /&gt;No doubt about it. You're a guy - at least on the inside.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourinnergenderquiz/"&gt;What's Your Inner Gender?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6743275139480308543?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6743275139480308543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6743275139480308543&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6743275139480308543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6743275139480308543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/your-inner-gender.html' title='your inner gender'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3241953695719161649</id><published>2007-10-02T03:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T03:08:55.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored</title><content type='html'>Congratulations, Han!Your IQ score is 135&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others. Your Intellectual Type is Visual Mathematician. This means you are gifted at spotting patterns — both in pictures and in numbers. These talents combined with your overall high intelligence make you good at understanding the big picture, which is why people trust your instincts and turn to you for direction — especially in the workplace. And that's just some of what we know about you from your test results.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3241953695719161649?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3241953695719161649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3241953695719161649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3241953695719161649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3241953695719161649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/bored.html' title='Bored'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1331114562726304453</id><published>2007-10-02T02:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T02:37:27.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day - Linkin Park</title><content type='html'>I've seen such pain only once in "the history of love" when one man knew his son has died through a newspaper. I like this song ... :). I can feel it ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Valentine's Day - Linkin Park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;My insides are turned to ash, so slow&lt;br /&gt;And blew away as I collapsed, so cold&lt;br /&gt;A black wind took them away, from sight&lt;br /&gt;And held the darkness over day, that night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the clouds above move closer&lt;br /&gt;Looking so disatisfied&lt;br /&gt;But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be my own protection, but not now&lt;br /&gt;Cause my path has lost direction, somehow&lt;br /&gt;A black wind took you away, from sight&lt;br /&gt;And held the darkness over day, that night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the clouds above move closer&lt;br /&gt;Looking so disatisfied&lt;br /&gt;And the ground below grew colder&lt;br /&gt;As they put you down inside&lt;br /&gt;But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now you're gone&lt;br /&gt;And I was wrong&lt;br /&gt;I never knew what it was like&lt;br /&gt;To be alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;(I used to be my own protection but not now)&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;(Cuz my mind has lost direction somehow)&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;(I used to be my own protection but not now)&lt;br /&gt;On a Valentine's Day, On a Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;(Cuz my mind has lost direction somehow)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1331114562726304453?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1331114562726304453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1331114562726304453&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1331114562726304453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1331114562726304453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/10/valentines-day-linkin-park.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day - Linkin Park'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-5973974700726160229</id><published>2007-09-23T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:12:18.988-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RvZzsi0OWhI/AAAAAAAAABg/M_uZKw9YklI/s1600-h/DSC00014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113401636023065106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="226" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RvZzsi0OWhI/AAAAAAAAABg/M_uZKw9YklI/s400/DSC00014.JPG" width="197" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-5973974700726160229?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/5973974700726160229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=5973974700726160229&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5973974700726160229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5973974700726160229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/09/gift.html' title='the gift'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RvZzsi0OWhI/AAAAAAAAABg/M_uZKw9YklI/s72-c/DSC00014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2701570038780371178</id><published>2007-09-23T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T01:54:51.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh girls ~</title><content type='html'>i've listened to this song. It disappoints me a bit but luckily, i then listen to another song ... let us compare the two ... one is from a young girl ... one is from a presumably more mature woman who appreciates love a little bit more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful girls - Jojo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chours]&lt;br /&gt;I'm way too cool for ya boy&lt;br /&gt;That's why it'll never work&lt;br /&gt;I'll have you suicidal, suicidal&lt;br /&gt;When I say it's over&lt;br /&gt;Damn all these beautiful girls&lt;br /&gt;We're only gonna do you dirt&lt;br /&gt;We'll have you suicidal, suicidal&lt;br /&gt;When I say it's over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when&lt;br /&gt;I was hanging with my friends&lt;br /&gt;That's when I caught your eye&lt;br /&gt;You thought that I was fly&lt;br /&gt;Right then you wished that I would be your baby (be your baby)&lt;br /&gt;You try spit some game&lt;br /&gt;Asking me girl what's ya name&lt;br /&gt;All that ice upon ya chain&lt;br /&gt;So I asked you the same&lt;br /&gt;Something tells me that we have fun together (fun together)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ain't easy to find&lt;br /&gt;I'm a one of a kind&lt;br /&gt;Oh when I dutty wine&lt;br /&gt;I know your only mine&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is yours&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is for another guy (another guy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been calling me&lt;br /&gt;Leaving messages all week&lt;br /&gt;Was your curiousity&lt;br /&gt;Got ya knees weak&lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking for a man&lt;br /&gt;So I don't want no confusion (no confusion)&lt;br /&gt;I took ya to the floor&lt;br /&gt;Had ya begging me for more&lt;br /&gt;But that was my cue to go&lt;br /&gt;So I hit the door&lt;br /&gt;I let you hot&lt;br /&gt;With your mind used to running wild (running wild)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ain't easy to find&lt;br /&gt;I'm a one of a kind&lt;br /&gt;Oh when I dutty wine&lt;br /&gt;I know your only mine&lt;br /&gt;If you stick around&lt;br /&gt;Be careful not to fall in love (fall in love)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a couple months have past&lt;br /&gt;Never thought that this would last&lt;br /&gt;Oh everybody asked&lt;br /&gt;How ya got a girl like that&lt;br /&gt;But you should've known&lt;br /&gt;That nothing lasts forever (lasts forever)&lt;br /&gt;I mashed up ya mind&lt;br /&gt;When I tell you lies&lt;br /&gt;But boy don't be suprised&lt;br /&gt;That I'm seeing other guys&lt;br /&gt;I'm too young to settle&lt;br /&gt;And you should've known better (known better)(ha ha ha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn all these beautiful girls (you should have known)&lt;br /&gt;We're only gonna do your dirt (cos I'll have)&lt;br /&gt;I'll have you suicidal, suicidal&lt;br /&gt;When I say it's over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me have that back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling out - Keyshia Cole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been sitting thinking &lt;br /&gt;bout you and I am wondering why were not getting along &lt;br /&gt;so frustrated cause what we had was a happy home &lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what the situation is &lt;br /&gt;but I can tell in the way we kiss &lt;br /&gt;we don’t talk no more &lt;br /&gt;it feels better when I’m alone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like there’s no getting through to you &lt;br /&gt;like you don’t appreciate all that I do you gotta show me that you want me to stay &lt;br /&gt;don’t turn and walk away &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus) &lt;br /&gt;Baby Im slowly fallin out &lt;br /&gt;of love with you &lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what to do &lt;br /&gt;how did we end up here this way &lt;br /&gt;what are we gonna do &lt;br /&gt;I’m slowly falling out &lt;br /&gt;baby im tripping off silly things &lt;br /&gt;boy I need you to meet me half way &lt;br /&gt;if you want me to be with you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when &lt;br /&gt;I’d be with my friends you’d check on me and make time to call &lt;br /&gt;but how things have changed &lt;br /&gt;now I don’t hear from you at all (yeah yeah yeah) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like there’s no getting through to you &lt;br /&gt;like you don’t appreciate all that I do (all that I do) &lt;br /&gt;you gotta show me that you want me to stay &lt;br /&gt;don’t turn and walk away &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Bridge) &lt;br /&gt;Don’t let ya pride get in the way &lt;br /&gt;of something we’ve worked so hard don’t throw it away &lt;br /&gt;I’ve been trying to make ya see everything you need &lt;br /&gt;is right here with me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like there’s no getting through to you(to you) &lt;br /&gt;like you don’t appreciate all that I do (all that I do) &lt;br /&gt;you gotta show me that you want me to stay &lt;br /&gt;don’t turn and walk away &lt;br /&gt;(baby I’m slowly) don’t turn and walk away &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2701570038780371178?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2701570038780371178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2701570038780371178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2701570038780371178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2701570038780371178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/09/oh-girls.html' title='oh girls ~'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6902900734085478981</id><published>2007-09-22T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T19:54:50.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing my mind - Maroon 5</title><content type='html'>I don't understand this song ... but i still listen to it ... i like it in some way ... maybe because i'm  in a farrago of emotions and thoughts that i can't explain ... i'm in a state just like the song, a state of losing your mind, going haywire ... Thoughts just come in and out with no real reasons, no convergence point ... a chaos ... I'm in the shock of information, feelings and the things i've realised and thought of. They are floating around. I'm watching them. Somehow i must find a way to put things back into place ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing my mind - Maroon 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s so hard, to find you&lt;br /&gt;I’m standing right behind you&lt;br /&gt;Streets are, much colder&lt;br /&gt;Must mean I’m getting older&lt;br /&gt;Why would you?&lt;br /&gt;How could I?&lt;br /&gt;These questions lead to good-bye&lt;br /&gt;Now I got my freedom don’t I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;I parked my car outside your house&lt;br /&gt;Hoping someday you’ll come home&lt;br /&gt;It seems the woman that I love&lt;br /&gt;Is someone that I hardly know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after all this time&lt;br /&gt;I finally found a place to be alone&lt;br /&gt;I’m terrified, I think that I&lt;br /&gt;May be losing my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shy girls, so humble&lt;br /&gt;With thighs that make me stumble&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, not speaking&lt;br /&gt;Lets me know that everything&lt;br /&gt;I go out, you eat in&lt;br /&gt;Hide from the situation&lt;br /&gt;You’re naked, in daylight&lt;br /&gt;Wrap yourself up in goodnight&lt;br /&gt;I’m burning, I’m hungry&lt;br /&gt;Angry cause she don’t love me&lt;br /&gt;You’ve got me, completely&lt;br /&gt;In my own game you beat me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be back again&lt;br /&gt;No, this is not the end&lt;br /&gt;I’ve fallen hard this time&lt;br /&gt;But I’m not giving in&lt;br /&gt;I want the world to know&lt;br /&gt;That I won’t let you forget&lt;br /&gt;The tears that you shed&lt;br /&gt;I’ll make it impossible to let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorusx2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need an anchor right now. Without the anchor, I can't find the similarity and what defines me in these confusing thoughts and emotions. What is my anchor or who is my anchor? Is it God? Is it just myself? Is it somebody else? I'm lost!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6902900734085478981?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6902900734085478981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6902900734085478981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6902900734085478981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6902900734085478981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/09/losing-my-mind-maroon-5.html' title='Losing my mind - Maroon 5'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-82243430547864258</id><published>2007-09-22T04:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T04:35:27.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the truth</title><content type='html'>22/9/2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, Sir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good friend of mine has just slapped a painful truth to my face. “You are just an ordinary person”, he said. I used to know that. I used to know that I was not the best, that I was just another person in this world. But things changed. I became successful along the way. People praised me for what I have achieved. Things have become too easy for me. I have always got what I wanted. Most of the guys I ever liked would like me back. I got this award, that award. Yes, things have been too easy. So although outside, I presented myself as a humble person, always saying “oh, I was just lucky” when someone praised me, deep down inside, subconsciously, I told myself, “I’m good”. I’m such a narrow-minded person. I don’t see things that are beyond my scope. How foolish I was to think that I’m good! And when I thought I was good, I came to think that I deserved a lot of things and that people would like me and that I was someone desirable  … so foolish! So stupid! Such an idiot I have been! How could I ever think that I’m good! How can I be so prideful! Why have I become like this?????????????????????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was someone very special. I know it’s just normal to think for someone to that he himself is special but when it’s normal, it does not mean that it is right. I talked to my friend. I asked him, “Am I special?” He told me, “To be honest, you are ordinary. You are not the smartest person I’ve met. You are still behind me in certain aspects. In terms of EQ, you are still quite low. If you are going to continue to keep this EQ when you go to work, you will fail.” I’m so thankful for that honest comment. You may think that this guy is prideful but actually, he’s just someone who is a lot more experienced in life than I am. So he does have the authority to say that to me. I’ve been drowning in the sea of compliments by others and foolishly, by myself. It’s time for a wake-up call. It’s time for this stupid person named me know that she is just really a NOBODY. NOBODY at all.! She is small. She is weak. Her brain is limited. Her strength is like that of an ant. Her heart? Haix. Don’t talk about it. She is super selfish but still thinks that she is very caring. It can’t get any worse. Her achievements? yah, she’s achieved a few things in life, but so what? Millions of people have achieved that. Millions will surpass that. The worst thing about her is her pride. Who can ever put up with her pride must be a very kind person! Please reprimand her in the worst manner that you can ever do so that she knows that she is just or…di…na…ry ….nothing fantastic …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;After all, I thank God for all He has ever done to me. He is the one who has seen this pride of me growing larger and larger each day and so He talked to me through this friend of mine. But I’m really getting confused now. I’m very confused now! … ok … because I have never told you about this .. so I will tell you about this now so that you will understand what I’m trying to say …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a free thinker but I do believe God exists. Actually, from what I guess, I think you should either be a Catholic or a Christian. I don’t know … uhmmm … so as a free thinker, how I perceive God may be very different from the way you believe in God. You may disagree with me totally. You may even be angry with me because of the difference … but please, let me share with you … As a person who stands at the boundary between the world of religions and the world of atheists, I believe God loves us all no matter who we are. Whether you believe in Him or not, God still loves you because God is selfless. Ok, this is the difficult part. I don’t know to express it so that you will understand. Ok, I believe that God does not talk to me personally always. God talks to me through other people as well. God is just like our parents. Sometimes, our parents do not talk to us alone. Sometimes, when they want to tell us something, they tell our siblings and then our siblings will then tell us that something. I believe God does that too. I believe that provides a balance. It is because, when I talk to God, God is never physically present to talk to me. Instead, His voice comes from within me. Thus, my own voice and His voice just come from one channel, me myself. So, therefore, it is confusing because I don’t know if I’m hearing my own selfish voice or God’s teachings. Thus, He does help me by speaking to me through other channels, the people around me. But the problem just gets more complicated when I realise other people have their own voices too. So, is it their voice or God’s voice when they speak to me? I know that this is very complicated but I believe it provides a balance. Sometimes, my selfishness prevents God from telling me something. Thus, I must keep a lookout for what other people are saying. And also, it helps me appreciate other people around me because God must love them all to send His teachings through them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m getting a bit too long-winded already. And so, I should come back to the original confusing problem. Is what my friend told me this afternoon God’s voice or my friend’s voice? God saw my problem and He reminded me through my friend’s reprimanding. But if it’s just my friend who saw my problem and he himself reprimanded me then is it unfair to say that it’s just God’s voice and discredit my friend’s own observation and thinking? But does that matter anyway? In the end, I still know that I’m ordinary and that I still have a lot to learn and not be proud of myself. Why do I keep fussing about unimportant things? And do my thoughts and feelings matter anyway? So why should I keep thinking if it does not really matter? The world will not change even if I disappear tomorrow. So why I keep typing and thinking? Why why why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have just suddenly glanced at my first birthday picture. I put the picture on my table just next to my laptop … My dad was holding me in one of his arms and his other arm was helping my mom holding the birthday cake. And then I know … my life matters only to these two persons … only them who care…only to them am I special…to other worldly creatures, I’m just another one, another friend, another student, another person, another stranger,…but to them, I’m the only one …the only one that matters…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-82243430547864258?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/82243430547864258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=82243430547864258&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/82243430547864258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/82243430547864258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/09/truth.html' title='the truth'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1392004651907780075</id><published>2007-09-03T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T18:48:05.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Balance</title><content type='html'>Everyone knows we need to balance. Every single teacher asks us to balance ... but how to balance? Balance is really an art. I've been lazing around at the hostel in the past few days and i really miss school already. It's not that i miss school but i miss the people in my school, those people that make me want to go to school. Though i know if i go to school, i will have to confront with those irritating and hatred-worthy people but if i don't go to schoo, i lose a chance of meeting the godly souls i always yearn to meet ... hmm ... so where is the balance? I don't know yet but the only thing i know now is that i really miss ... &lt;:)&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1392004651907780075?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1392004651907780075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1392004651907780075&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1392004651907780075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1392004651907780075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/09/balance.html' title='Balance'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3485012313149302028</id><published>2007-09-02T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T21:08:16.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk me home - Mandy Moore</title><content type='html'>Will you listen to me? Please ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk me home - Mandy Moore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk me home&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna go all the way alone&lt;br /&gt;Baby would you walk with me home&lt;br /&gt;Baby would you take my hand&lt;br /&gt;Come with me now to a special land&lt;br /&gt;Baby would you walk with me home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 A.M.&lt;br /&gt;You're on my mind once again&lt;br /&gt;I must have been dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Thought I felt your heartbeat just then&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder how it would be&lt;br /&gt;I was your lady&lt;br /&gt;And you were my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would put my heart in your hands and it would never end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;Baby would you walk with me home (walk me home)&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna go all the way alone (all alone)&lt;br /&gt;Baby would you walk with me me home&lt;br /&gt;Baby would you take my hand (take my hand)&lt;br /&gt;Come with me now to a special land (ohh)&lt;br /&gt;Baby won't you walk with me home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hold your picture&lt;br /&gt;Next to my heart all the time&lt;br /&gt;Ohh yeah baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're my dream come true&lt;br /&gt;So then you're mine?&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder how it would be&lt;br /&gt;If I was your lady&lt;br /&gt;And you were my friend&lt;br /&gt;I would put my heart in your hands&lt;br /&gt;And it would never end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday and night I wanna hold you&lt;br /&gt;Understand I am going to love you&lt;br /&gt;In my own special way (in my own special way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS x2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohh&lt;br /&gt;Won't you walk with me home?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3485012313149302028?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3485012313149302028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3485012313149302028&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3485012313149302028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3485012313149302028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/09/walk-me-home-mandy-moore.html' title='Walk me home - Mandy Moore'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3512272714944821532</id><published>2007-08-30T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T18:13:06.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my big project</title><content type='html'>I have a 1-year big project in my mind now. Let's say it is like another second blog. You may be laughing at me and be saying that one blog and I already ignored, another blog -- it will just die. No, I hope it won't. The thought of this second blog makes me happy and I guess I will do it. Maybe I should start now. The reason I'm telling you this is that you will understand why I may not be posting in a very long time ... Perhaps you are saying that I have something new, so I neglect the good old things that have been accompanying me and comforting me all this while. Maybe you are right. Maybe this blog is just something temporary that I need until I find the more permanent one. But I will not abandon it totally. Please trust me. Just that I need to digress ... to something else that maybe perhaps more purposeful, more personal, more private. To all my friends that have always been reading my blog and helping me through difficult times, I hold you most dearly to my heart ... but it's now time for me to move back into something that just me and my laptop knows ... until next year, when the project finishes .... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3512272714944821532?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3512272714944821532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3512272714944821532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3512272714944821532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3512272714944821532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-big-project.html' title='my big project'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7629612931298583919</id><published>2007-08-30T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T17:58:09.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>holiday</title><content type='html'>I've just glanced at the last day I posted ... 11/8 ... hmm ... yep! Long time no posts. Things have been going out of control. I'm no longer ahead of things. I've been chasing deadlines and meetings, and tutorials. I've become super productive. In 40 mins, I can finish the whole tutorial, in contrast with at least 1 hours and 30 minutes like last time ... but about the quality, I'm not very sure. Reading lecture notes has become the alien concept. I just tried to grasp as much as I can during lectures and did the tutorials ... no rereading ... Thank God my teachers all have mercy on us. Before they went through the tutorials, they still cared to explain the concepts to us .. otherwise, hmm ... I guess i would just be someone wandering in hell. I felt a bit of relief when the holidays finally arrive. But, looking at the list of things that I need to finish, oh well, the holidays also start with a grim view. Catching with reading of tutorials, trying to do as much of project work as possible, finish tutorials plus all those extra practices and promo papers that have been dumped on us ... then things are complicated by OCIP, open house and NRP. I've had no time to look at the OCIP big plan they have planned. I've had only enough time to take care of the upcoming chemical car workshop. And today, a glance through the OCIP schedule throw me into a horrified state. The project has gone too big ... too too big ... aroung 20 - 25 ACJC students have to handle aroung 180 students from Vietnam. No no! This is terrible! And from that schedule, I think I will have to work super hard. My econs soc people have to come in already. I will have to find a group of leaders already. Otherwise, I will suffocate, I will break down and die. Ok, never mind, I will have to be courageous. These are the things that I want to do. I chose to take 4 H2 subjects, I chose to be in OCIP, I chose to be the Presidenct of Econs Soc, I chose to be NRP ... and most importantly, I chose to be here, trying to make the most out of my time here. I'd better start doing something NOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7629612931298583919?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7629612931298583919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7629612931298583919&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7629612931298583919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7629612931298583919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/holiday.html' title='holiday'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7279154749478375228</id><published>2007-08-11T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T18:04:46.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how girly are you?</title><content type='html'>Haha ... i'm not to that extreme lah but somewhat there ... not absolute there yet! But the last bit is quite right ... haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are 12% Girly&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howgirlyareyouquiz/girly-1.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... you're a guy, right? If not, you're the most boyish girl in the world.&lt;br /&gt;And for you, that's probably the ultimate compliment.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howgirlyareyouquiz/"&gt;How Girly Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7279154749478375228?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7279154749478375228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7279154749478375228&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7279154749478375228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7279154749478375228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/how-girly-are-you.html' title='how girly are you?'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7164290537734306340</id><published>2007-08-10T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T05:04:30.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She believes in me - Ronan Keating</title><content type='html'>Happygrass has been complaining that I've been too busy to blog and so most of my blogs are just songs ... hehe ... and here I am, posting another song. I listen to songs for more than entertainment. I seek something there. I'm not good with words and so I'm just borrowing words from those artists, asking them to speak for me. and so this is today's song ... please change all the "she" into the "he" and imagine me singing to you my song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ronan Keating - She believes in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she lays sleeping&lt;br /&gt;I stay out late at night and play my songs&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes all the nights can be so long&lt;br /&gt;And it's good when I finally make it home&lt;br /&gt;All alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she lays dreaming&lt;br /&gt;I touch her face across the silver light&lt;br /&gt;I see her dreams that drift up to the sky&lt;br /&gt;And she wakes up to my kiss&lt;br /&gt;And I say it's alright&lt;br /&gt;And I hold her tight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;And she believes in me&lt;br /&gt;I'll never know just what she sees in me&lt;br /&gt;I told her someday&lt;br /&gt;If she was my girl, I could change the world&lt;br /&gt;With my songs,&lt;br /&gt;But I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;But she has faith in me&lt;br /&gt;And so I go on trying faithfully&lt;br /&gt;Forever in my heart she will remain&lt;br /&gt;And I hope and pray, I will find a way, find a way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she lays waiting&lt;br /&gt;I ask myself why do I hurt her so&lt;br /&gt;What calls me on along this lonely road&lt;br /&gt;Why don't I turn around and head back home&lt;br /&gt;Where I belong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she lays crying&lt;br /&gt;Cause she knows how my heart is ripped in two&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn between the things that I should do&lt;br /&gt;She deserves it all and I'd give it if I could&lt;br /&gt;God,her love is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7164290537734306340?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7164290537734306340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7164290537734306340&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7164290537734306340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7164290537734306340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/she-believes-in-me-ronan-keating.html' title='She believes in me - Ronan Keating'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-296968707350348444</id><published>2007-08-10T04:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T04:54:40.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sir</title><content type='html'>Sir is very unique. Sir is handsome. Girls in school whisper behind Sir's back how hot Sir is and I guess Sir will smile and perhaps shake his head upon hearing that. The first time I saw Sir, I thought to myself, "Sir looks like Jim Carrey." It was because it was the introductory lecture, I sat right at the back of LT 4 and I couldn't see very clearly but the second time I saw Sir, I was a bit surprised how Sir actually looks like. The next thing I wondered about Sir is that why Sir never opens his eyes fully. Sir always looks like Sir is sleepy. Hehe. Some guys in school don't like Sir. They think Sir acts cool. But appearance does not matter to me because what Sir did to me was so much more than meet the eyes. Sir is passionate, so passionate. "I love economics. If I'm teaching and this room collapses, I will still teach." "When your passion is large enought, other things don't matter." Sir is inspiring. "This is why I study economics: To help the poor, to speak for the weak, ..." and one more thing I forget already. I'm sorry, Sir but Sir has indeed offered me the answer to the question of purpose in life. Then I met Sir in my CCA. I didn't know Sir is the teacher-in-charge. I just joined just to find out my most respectable teacher is there too. Then Sir gave me a huge amount of support. Sir called me when I was super upset. Sometimes, I saw Sir a bit frustrated but sometimes, I heard Sir laugh .. heartily .. In the world where everyone just wants a good piece of me, Sir demands my commitment and faithfulness to whatever I do. Sir says Sir is very demanding but Sir tells me to tell Sir whatever problem I face so that Sir can help me. Sir wants both the good and the bad pieces of me and is willing to teach me. Sir adopts lassez-faire. Sir lets me do what I want to do and says, "I will be supportive". I remember after the first 3 months, Sir told us not to let anything stand in our ways if we really wanted to do something. We said we wanted to study with Sir but Sir said if we stayed in the school, after two years, we would have to move on and would forget Sir anyway so don't let Sir affect our decisions. Yes, Sir, after two years, I will move on. I will leave the place. Perhaps I will never return because the future is uncertain. But no, Sir, I will not forget you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-296968707350348444?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/296968707350348444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=296968707350348444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/296968707350348444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/296968707350348444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/sir.html' title='Sir'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8663497647433056091</id><published>2007-08-08T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T02:58:54.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nick Lachey - what's left of me</title><content type='html'>I will ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick Lachey - What's left of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch my life pass me by&lt;br /&gt;in the review mirror&lt;br /&gt;Pictures frozen in time&lt;br /&gt;are becoming clearer&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna waste another day stuck in the shadow of my mistakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;yeah'cause I want you&lt;br /&gt;and I feel you&lt;br /&gt;crawling underneath my skin,&lt;br /&gt;like a hunger&lt;br /&gt;like a burning&lt;br /&gt;to find the place I've never been&lt;br /&gt;now I'm brokenand I'm fading&lt;br /&gt;I'm half the man I thought I would be&lt;br /&gt;But you can have&lt;br /&gt;What's left of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been dying inside&lt;br /&gt;Little by little&lt;br /&gt;Nowhere to go&lt;br /&gt;But goin' out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;In endless circles&lt;br /&gt;runnin' from myself until&lt;br /&gt;You gave me a reason for standing still&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling faster&lt;br /&gt;Barely breathing&lt;br /&gt;Give me something to believe in&lt;br /&gt;Tell me it's not all in my head&lt;br /&gt;Take what's left of this man&lt;br /&gt;Make me whole once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been dying inside you see&lt;br /&gt;I'm going out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;Out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;I'm just runnin' in circles all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you take what's left&lt;br /&gt;Will you take what's left&lt;br /&gt;Will you take what's left of me&lt;br /&gt;Just runnin' in circles in my mind&lt;br /&gt;Will you take what's leftWill you take what's left of me&lt;br /&gt;Take what's left of me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8663497647433056091?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8663497647433056091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8663497647433056091&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8663497647433056091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8663497647433056091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/nick-lachey-whats-left-of-me.html' title='Nick Lachey - what&apos;s left of me'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1806541295406810753</id><published>2007-08-05T00:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T00:29:03.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>low self-esteem men</title><content type='html'>you people, low self-esteem men, low-EQ men ... you think you're very good ... but sorry, i don't think so! I'm under you, I won't reject that but inside my territory, don't try to exert your authority because I'm going to tell you off. I have little respect for men like you ... cheating in tests ... not blatantly but try to read the questions before everybody else does, try to extend the time span of the tests by writing even when the papers are being collected ... wa lau! you people ... too low self-esteem already ... You have no confidence in yourself ... you yourself admit that you are more handicapped than everybody else so you yourself grant yourself the illegal right to do things without integrity. You think you are very responsible. You think you are very capable ... but sorry, if i ever have to write a testimonial for you, the first thing i will write is a low-EQ and megalomaniac man. You think you're very powerful and can order people around? Haha, I will tell you what is the truth because it is I who have the authority here. I don't want to be bossy. I don't want to sound too proud. I don't want to appear scary or unfriendly. I don't want to differ any more from the humble person I used to be. But I will want to do all those things, especially for you. Don't you feel honoured? I tell you already. Humble yourself before me and I will humble myself before you. If you want to be proud and be my boss, I will splash the fact into your face that it is I who is the boss. WAKE UP, dude, if you still want to save a bit of your face. If you don't wake up in time, this post will not just remain on this online blog but it will be spoken by me ... in real life ... in front of real people ... so that I can whip you into shape and perhaps, work with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1806541295406810753?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1806541295406810753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1806541295406810753&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1806541295406810753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1806541295406810753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/08/low-self-esteem-men.html' title='low self-esteem men'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-5744445280553599655</id><published>2007-07-29T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:12:19.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>:D</title><content type='html'>I don't know what to give my new post's title, so never mind. It's been super duper tiring lately. I don't really know how many things I have been able to finish the last 2 or 3 weeks ... I felt exhausted but happy, i guess .. You may be saying I'm a workaholic. You may be right then. I'm not gonna furiously object you but I feel happy as I'm being productive, being useful to some causes, being able to offer someone my service. I did a lot of reflections, made a lot of personal conversations with my self and a lot of of imaginary conversations with my friends, my teachers :) ... I forgot all of them already but i guess, after all, being an introvert is not that bad hehe, coz all those imaginary conversations never fail to lift my spirit up ... I guess some other time, when I'm a little bit more free than now, I will tell you all the things I have done but now, there's one thing that is most important that I must keep in mind .. I've proclaimed to Mr Lancelot Lim that I'm a people-oriented person ... i do not lie .. i care about people ... but sometimes, if i'm too stressed, i may forget to care about other people but now, if i have proclaimed that, I must constantly remind myself to live up to my claim .. now it's time to change my selfishness ... since i have said it ... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my new bag. I usually have to look high and low for quite some time until I can choose something to buy for myself ... just like my water bottle, my camera ... this new bag also ... Because it has won so many contestants to be my bag, I feel the emotional attachment to it the moment I took a closer look at it at my hostel ... hehe ... just like how I did for my bottle and my camera ... look at it ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092583496042405682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 147px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="163" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/Rqx9tT6f3zI/AAAAAAAAABY/Ctktmn0vgyE/s400/TCG650AP_cases_b.jpg" width="174" border="0" /&gt;Hehe. This is the picture i took from the website. My real bag has some more decorations :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Listen to its features:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Padded notebook compartment designed to fit notebooks up to 15.4" screens&lt;br /&gt;Main compartment for files includes soft rack for better organization&lt;br /&gt;Front zippered pockets for additional storage also include pen loops, key clip, business card holder and padded CD player pocket with line-out jack for headphones&lt;br /&gt;Additional features include: removable mobile phone pouch, side water bottle pocket, rubberized zipper pulls, and comfortable shoulder straps with air mesh padding&lt;br /&gt;Removable CD/DVD sleeve holds up to 8 discs &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Haha. I love it ... !!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-5744445280553599655?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/5744445280553599655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=5744445280553599655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5744445280553599655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5744445280553599655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/07/d.html' title=':D'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/Rqx9tT6f3zI/AAAAAAAAABY/Ctktmn0vgyE/s72-c/TCG650AP_cases_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6969043045347289093</id><published>2007-07-13T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T21:54:55.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the way - clay aiken</title><content type='html'>It's been a very long time since I last listened to this song ... love it ... describes how i feel ... describes the way ... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way - Clay Aiken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's something about the way you look tonight&lt;br /&gt;There's something about the way that I can’t take my eyes off you&lt;br /&gt;There's something about the way your lips invite&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it’s the way that I get nervous when you're around&lt;br /&gt;And I want you to be mine&lt;br /&gt;And if you need a reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;It’s in the way that you move me&lt;br /&gt;And the way that you tease me&lt;br /&gt;The way that I want you tonight&lt;br /&gt;It’s in the way that you hold me&lt;br /&gt;And in the way that you know me&lt;br /&gt;When I can’t find the right words to say&lt;br /&gt;You feel it in the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s something about how you stay on my mind&lt;br /&gt;It’s something about the way that I whisper your name when I’m asleep oh girl&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it’s the look you get in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;oh baby it’s the way that makes me feel to see you smile&lt;br /&gt;And the reasons they may change&lt;br /&gt;But what I’m feeling stays the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t put my fingers on&lt;br /&gt;Just what it is that makes me&lt;br /&gt;Love you, you baby&lt;br /&gt;So don’t ask me to describe&lt;br /&gt;I get all choked up insideJ&lt;br /&gt;ust thinking about the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6969043045347289093?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6969043045347289093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6969043045347289093&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6969043045347289093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6969043045347289093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/07/way-clay-aiken.html' title='the way - clay aiken'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7521213802989767622</id><published>2007-07-08T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T08:32:28.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>me - a dangerous species</title><content type='html'>yes, i'm a dangerous species. From the outside, I look very nice. I'm always quiet. I don't get involved in a lot of arguments. I don't strain my throat to fight for my opinions. If you bully me, I will still just smile or maybe I will walk away without saying any words ... but wait, don't think you should bully me ... because as i said, I'm a dangerous species. I'm quiet but that doesn't mean i don't have my own judgement. In fact, i have a lot of judgements. And the dangerous thing is I don't say it out. So you don't know what I really think about you. I may be smiling at you but you can never be sure what I really think ... hmm ... and it is a bit hard to know those thoughts of mine because I guess I can control my temper quite well as long as you don't intrude to my private life too much, I won't say anything ... ha! but when the time comes, you will know ... when i have to provide testimony for you, all the judgements will come. It's not that I'm not forgiving ... i do forgive and perhaps forget, but of course, I do remember sometimes and that will make me reconsider things ... Appearance is deceiving ... don't ever say "oh, she's very nice". That is a wrong judgement of me. I'm very cruel. Just that you don't know that. You are either inside my strict and tight ring of principles or outside of it. Most people are outside of it. Once you are outside, you are forever outside. My eyes and soul are guarded with so many security gates .. it's hard for you to get through ... yes, me, the dangerous species ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm prideful. I'm not going to deny it. don't worry! I don't suffer from megalomania. Prideful here means I think everybody is equal. I don't think you are better than me or I am better than you. I believe everyone has his own gifts and he has to explore his own potential. BUT, that means don't ever try to act as if you are better than anyone of us. If you're not gonna be humble, you are dead before me. It is ironic like one of my teachers say that when someone is prideful, you hate that someone because he is hurting your pride. I'm not going to reject and say that is wrong. That is absolutely right, at least for me. Humble yourself before other people, I will humble myself before you. If you don't, good luck! don't think just me who don't like you ... many ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7521213802989767622?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7521213802989767622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7521213802989767622&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7521213802989767622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7521213802989767622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/07/me-dangerous-species.html' title='me - a dangerous species'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-624164943417606850</id><published>2007-07-06T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T19:02:22.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what hurts the most - Rascal Flatts</title><content type='html'>I'm scared ... a heart that is hurt once ... a heart that is losing trust ... a heart that is too afraid to open one more time ... a heart that is terrified that it may not be able to even open itself ... i'm scared that I may not be able to love again and thus, let go of the love that i most yearn for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What hurts the most - Rascal Flatts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house&lt;br /&gt;That don’t bother me&lt;br /&gt;I can take a few tears now and then and just let 'em out&lt;br /&gt;I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while&lt;br /&gt;Even though going on with you gone still upsets me&lt;br /&gt;There are days every now and again I pretend I’m ok&lt;br /&gt;But that’s not what gets me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[chorus]&lt;br /&gt;What hurts the most&lt;br /&gt;Was being so close&lt;br /&gt;And having so much to say&lt;br /&gt;And watching you walk away&lt;br /&gt;And never knowing&lt;br /&gt;What could have been&lt;br /&gt;And not seeing that loving you&lt;br /&gt;Is what I was tryin’ to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go&lt;br /&gt;But I’m doin’ it&lt;br /&gt;It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone&lt;br /&gt;Still Harder&lt;br /&gt;Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret&lt;br /&gt;But I know if I could do it over&lt;br /&gt;I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart&lt;br /&gt;That I left unspoken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-624164943417606850?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/624164943417606850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=624164943417606850&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/624164943417606850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/624164943417606850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-hurts-most-rascal-flatts.html' title='what hurts the most - Rascal Flatts'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8353473986356834103</id><published>2007-07-05T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T08:07:55.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i am the cause of my own agony but once again, an angle is sent down</title><content type='html'>I am the cause of my own agony&lt;br /&gt;Extinct creature should never exist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received 2 of my papers today. Good scores, happy teachers, happy student ... but I nearly burst out crying ... why? Is it because I want better scores? Is it because I'm a freak, an overachiever, a totally perfectionist, a madly competitive dudess? I guess I'm none of them. You superficial people won't understand me ... Just listen to what I have to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky - Britney Spears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a story about a girl named Lucky…&lt;br /&gt;Early morning&lt;br /&gt;She wakes up&lt;br /&gt;Knock, knock, knock on the door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time for makeup&lt;br /&gt;Perfect smile&lt;br /&gt;It's you they're all waiting for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Bridge]&lt;br /&gt;They go,isn't she lovely&lt;br /&gt;This Hollywood girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;And they say she's so lucky, she's a star&lt;br /&gt;But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking&lt;br /&gt;If there's nothing missing in my life&lt;br /&gt;Then why do these tears come at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost in an image, in a dream&lt;br /&gt;But there's no one there to wake her up&lt;br /&gt;And the world is spinning, and she keeps on winning&lt;br /&gt;But tell me what happens when it stops?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Bridge]&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Best actress, and the winner is…Lucky!"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm Roger Johnson for Pop News standing outside the arena waiting for Lucky"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my god…here she comes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't she lucky, this Hollywood girl?&lt;br /&gt;She is so lucky, but why does she cry?&lt;br /&gt;If there's nothing missing in her life&lt;br /&gt;Why do tears come at night?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again without fail, another angel has been sent my way ... totally unexpected she came ... she smiled at me ... and as my nightmare started to begin when my academic achievements were recited, she said, "there's more about Han than just academics, right?" Thank you, my angle ... you saved me one of the tears I'm going to cry for today ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I take comfort in him, and him, and him, and him&lt;br /&gt;He who is happy for me and smiles at me and rewards me&lt;br /&gt;He who cares to congrat me and reply me with his long, encouraging messages&lt;br /&gt;He who makes me laugh and cares for me&lt;br /&gt;He who never fails to love me with all his heart&lt;br /&gt;And I take comfort in her&lt;br /&gt;My best friend, my sister, my future children's godmother&lt;br /&gt;And I take comfort in them&lt;br /&gt;My dearest parents, my purpose in life ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8353473986356834103?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8353473986356834103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8353473986356834103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8353473986356834103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8353473986356834103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-am-cause-of-my-own-agony-but-once.html' title='i am the cause of my own agony but once again, an angle is sent down'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4789179335903141464</id><published>2007-07-01T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T22:38:45.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm angry already</title><content type='html'>Gone! Gone! Gone! Dead! Dead! Dead! I'm already super angry. I criticized, I chastised the popular culture which promotes the superficial and selfish self-obssession. Remember yesterday, Mai and I went to Suntec and found a shirt say "why show up if you can't show off" and how much contempt we had for that kind of shirt. I look down on this modern zeitgeist of eulogizing yourself, of thinking you yourself ruling, owning the whole world and other people are just the small little insects not deserving your attention. Though I do own a shirt bearing some self-obssessing sentences, I must admit I'm sick of this culture and sadly, I have in one way or another, be influenced by this culture. Nevertheless, I've been comforting myself that my home country, my beloved hometown still have people with humility, with a heart caring and placing others at a higher priority than themselves. BUT, today, I'm disappointed. I'm angry! I want to smash the laptop screen! What crap is that? And I'm telling you this is possibly the first time I say something rather vulgar. Yes, what crap is that? Vietnam Idol? Oh no, no, this cannot be right! They have Vietnam Idol now? Again that oh-so-familiar symbol. Oh my gosh! Gone! Really gone! Ladies and gentlemen, I'm PLEASED to present to you the new Vietnam. Oh no, you should know how much I have enjoyed the high-quality music competition in my country. You should know how much I love the good-old-day songs filled with genuine emotions and cotemplation. Now, we have Vietnam Idol. Haha, Americanized already ah? Join the global culture already ah? Blend yourself into that whole bunch of yet another "global city" already ah? Haha! Yes, I laugh but my heart is burning in fire! This thing reflects no other thing than a decreasing demand for the more traditional, though not popular but a self-identifying way of life and an increasing demand for that popular culture. Every one is better off. Yes, broadcaster gets audience. The large stadium hosting the competition gets money. The young generation enjoy the own version of that global culture. But what about us? The sons and daughters of the land of dragons and fairies ... can we just anchor in our memories of the good old days, in our illusion of how our country is like ... What should I write for my application question in my comprehension now? Is my country still the same as how I always perceive it and pen down on my papers? Is there anything unique about my country so I can introduce to my friends? I hope I'm just getting a bit too crazy ... I hope that Vietnam Idol is not that bad ... I hope those people placing those self-obssessed avatars are not that self-obssessed ... or am I just trying to find excuses to return back to my oh-so-good illusion? ... my country ... the place I belong to ... and I want to belong there ... really ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4789179335903141464?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4789179335903141464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4789179335903141464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4789179335903141464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4789179335903141464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-angry-already.html' title='i&apos;m angry already'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4975167559963428942</id><published>2007-06-30T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T04:41:13.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my major</title><content type='html'>Due to the increasing uncertainty I feel about what I should do in the future, I've taken 3 tests to see what they say about what I should do. I've tried to be as truthful and objective as possible. And all of the 3 tests say I should go to the finance, economics sector ... this is the list ... Actually i think the order of preferrence is quite right :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border='0' cellpadding='5' cellspacing='0' width='600'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Accounting/Finance/Marketing&lt;/b&gt;, You should strongly consider majoring (or minoring) in Accounting, Finance, Economics, Marketing, or related majors (e.g., Computer/Management Information Systems (CIS or MIS), Entrepreneurship, International Business, Operations Management, Public Administration, Real Estate, Risk Management, Sports Management).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It is possible that the best major for you is your 2nd, 3rd, or even 5th listed category, so be sure to consider ALL majors in your OTHER high scoring categories (below). You may score high in a category you didnt think you would--it is possible that a great major for you is something you once dismissed as not for you. The right major for you will be something 1) you love and enjoy and 2) are really great at it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Consider adding a minor or double majoring to make yourself standout and to combine your interests. Please post your results in your myspace/blog/journal.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;table border='0' width='300' cellspacing='0' cellpadding='0'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Accounting/Finance/Marketing&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='94' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;94%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Education/Counseling&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='88' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;88%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Mathematics/Statistics&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='75' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;75%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Psychology/Sociology&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='75' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;75%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;French/Spanish/OtherLanguage&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='75' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;75%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Biology/Chemistry/Geology&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='69' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;69%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;HR/BusinessManagement&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='69' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;69%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Physics/Engineering/Computer&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='63' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;63%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Religion/Theology&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='63' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;63%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Nursing/AthleticTraining/Health&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='63' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;63%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;History/Anthropology/LiberalArts&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='56' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;56%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;English/Journalism/Comm&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='56' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;56%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;PoliticalScience/Philosophy&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='56' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;56%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Visual&amp;PerformingArts&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='44' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;44%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href='http://quizfarm.com/run.php/Quiz?quiz_id=35647'&gt;WHAT MAJOR IS RIGHT FOR YOU?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;created with &lt;a href='http://quizfarm.com'&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4975167559963428942?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4975167559963428942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4975167559963428942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4975167559963428942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4975167559963428942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-major.html' title='my major'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6499350055334941282</id><published>2007-06-29T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T22:39:41.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>imperfect - a confession</title><content type='html'>Nothing is perfect. We all know that very well. I know that very well too. I've known very well that I will never be perfect ... i know that. Please do not imply that I wanted to be perfect. I've always wanted to be the best I can but I know perfection is never to be achieved. But so far, I've gotten perfect scores and some nearly-perfect things ... but as it turned out, imperfection has come to me in the most unexpected way, in a way that no one sees and may be few care ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of things that will never coexist. For example, if you a male, you will never be a female. Things automatically eliminate each other just like a natural process ... some of these elimination you are aware of ... some takes time. I've got perfect scores several times. I am seen as a perfect student several times ... and this perfection automatically eliminates something else, making my life imperfect. I'm not allowed to be scared. I'm not allowed to be worried when exams come. If I'm scared, it does seem that I'm being insensitive to others. People will say, if I'm scared, then they will die. I'm not blaming them. If I were them, I guess I would say the same thing. But the thing here is the future is always uncertain. There is no guarantee that if I have a good score in the previous test, I will have a better score in the next test. Yes, people are right if they say if I have a good score, that means I've already understood most of the things tested so there's no need to be scared. You may think I'm irrational and just paranoid if I say how can I be sure that I understand everything. So, worry ... yes, I do feel it but I guess I cannot express it. And the saddest thing is that "you don't need help". Maybe it's right. Maybe it is also because of me who prefer to figure out things on my own. But don't you think that is an imperfection in one's life. Living your life without needing help? Sometimes, I want to approach someone to ask for help too but ... firstly, what should I ask? secondly, is that person available for me to ask? ... :( ... You may think I'm being snobbish and having pride over the fact that I don't need anyone but i guess you are wrong. No, I'm not snobbish. It is just I have a different perspective from you ... being lonely and doing things on your own is an imperfection ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you don't have the things most people don't have, you don't feel very bad. But when you don't have the things most people have, it certainly does not feel good. If I try to be fair, I do have something that a lot don't have but in return, i don't have things that a lot of you have ... yes ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say, when much is given, much is expected ... but if you want to think in an economic way, when much is given, more is expected. People want to have economic surplus, they don't give to receive back the same amount. I guess I'm given something, so I guess I have to work hard, lose something else to give back what is expected. Don't think I don't love my life. If I ever start my life all over again, I will still choose to live my life this way. Just that sometimes, a little bit of reflection is just to help me understand myself better and just to realize that I'm forever not special, forever a normal person who have missing pieces of life that can never be found ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6499350055334941282?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6499350055334941282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6499350055334941282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6499350055334941282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6499350055334941282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/imperfect-confession.html' title='imperfect - a confession'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2198265455930721725</id><published>2007-06-27T04:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T04:59:56.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the amazing meganame generator</title><content type='html'>hahahahahahahahahaha .... i can laugh until tomorrow ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEE9E9" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Han Khanh Ngoc Huynh's Aliases&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFAFA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/meganamegenerator/meganame.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your movie star name: Anything Dai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your fashion designer name is Han Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your socialite name is Han Den Ho Chi Minh City&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your fly girl / guy name is H Huy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your detective name is Puppy Anglo-Chinese Junior College&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your barfly name is Kusuka Nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your soap opera name is Khanh Ngoc Hoang Hoa Tham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your rock star name is Anything Air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Star Wars name is Hanlit Huy---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your punk rock band name is The Neutral Nothing&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/meganamegenerator/"&gt;The Amazing Meganame Generator&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2198265455930721725?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2198265455930721725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2198265455930721725&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2198265455930721725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2198265455930721725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/amazing-meganame-generator.html' title='the amazing meganame generator'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8127557355164669011</id><published>2007-06-27T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T04:51:20.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what sign woman are you, really?</title><content type='html'>my goodness, this is so right ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your True Sign Is Virgo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsignwomanareyoureallyquiz/virgo.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shy&lt;br /&gt;Picky&lt;br /&gt;Genuine&lt;br /&gt;Smart and Logical&lt;br /&gt;Caring and Helpful&lt;br /&gt;A Total Perfectionist&lt;br /&gt;On the Conservative Side&lt;br /&gt;More Listening Than Talking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsignwomanareyoureallyquiz/"&gt;What Sign Woman Are You, Really?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8127557355164669011?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8127557355164669011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8127557355164669011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8127557355164669011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8127557355164669011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-sign-woman-are-you-really.html' title='what sign woman are you, really?'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7356792467998366546</id><published>2007-06-26T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T06:45:59.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bicentennial man</title><content type='html'>I intended to do some productive work today but could resist the temptation to watch a movie instead of flipping some more pages of notes for revision, so I watched "bicentennial man". My friend talked about it a long time ago but this is the first time I ever had a chance to view it and see how good it is. hmm ... they have made a lot of movies about robots out there and ironically, movies about robots talk about humanity. I've watched "artificial intelligence", one film which I don't remember the title but roughly remember the plot and the leading actor is Will Smith and today, "bicentennial man". Will Smith's movie is more about the crazy things that people are doing to destroy the world but "artificial intelligence" and "bicentennial man" is about a robot's yearning to have love, to feel and most importantly, to be recognized as a human. You all should watch both movies. Those two robots cannot be any more human than that. In "artificial intelligence", you can't help crying when you how the robot boy yearns for his "mother", his quest to be a human so that his "mother" will love him, his burning desire to be "one of the kind" and then ... the ending scence, when he is actually the only "human" left in this world and how he actually finds his mother and lives with her in just one day ... one day ... only on that one day that he can say "i've found you". You can feel his fear and his feeling of loss when he is abandoned. You can hear the sound of his heart crying and begging for somebody to show him how to find his mother ... In "bicentennial man", he first leanrs to enjoy things and then, he yearns to be free. Then, he wants to seek for other robots who are like him and miraculously, he met a rejected genius scientist who continuously upgrades him whenever he finds something new which eventually even helps him to grow old and dies besides the love of his life ... Andrew ... a truly faithful, polite, wise, funny, patient, determined human .. he doesn't live to know he is declared a man but as his wife says, he doesn't need that because we, as the audience to see his life's story, know very well that he is a human. Sing praise to the human species, the most remarkable and amazing creatures of God ... this species is so amazing that anyone who ever lives with us, plays with us will want to be like us ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7356792467998366546?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7356792467998366546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7356792467998366546&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7356792467998366546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7356792467998366546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/bicentennial-man.html' title='bicentennial man'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6865934767966431726</id><published>2007-06-26T00:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T01:08:46.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let him know - dedicated to happygrass</title><content type='html'>it is so unfair that he who loves, who cares and who sacrifices have the loves taken away from him. Many people who don't love, don't care and don't sacrifice have loves flooding their lives. It is he who shows me an undying, selfless love but time and again, love does seem to fail him ... and i too, i too who is guilty of exacerbating this situation. I sent him my love but then I stopped ... it broke his heart but he refused to stop loving me ... love holds him back from achieving many things but he never questions ... never feels that is unfair. Sometimes, he says he wants to change a bit, to be a little bit stronger but then, he admits that this is the way he has been and will always be ... let him be ... let him be ... please let no evil touch him ... please send him love ... please embrace him in your heart. I am sorry for the things I have done to him but I always want to be his friend. Please let him not be scared that I am only pitying him because I'm not ... for one reason or another, he has been a part of my life and a part of my soul. What he has done has changed my life ... If the book of my life is ever written, there will be one chapter named after him ... Please let him know that I always care for him ... not in the same way as how I did in the past but ... I still care for him ... Let him know I may be a little bit cold and nonchalant and I rarely replied sms but he is in my thought when I pray ... Let him know I will be strong for him and he should be strong too ... Let him know his life is one of the most worth-living life I've ever known ... Let him know as long as we both live, he can always call me up and I will be there for him ... because he is my friend ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6865934767966431726?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6865934767966431726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6865934767966431726&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6865934767966431726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6865934767966431726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/let-him-know-dedicated-to-happygrass.html' title='let him know - dedicated to happygrass'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3136675013687221168</id><published>2007-06-25T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T05:09:22.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let me love you</title><content type='html'>today, i want to ask for the strength to be given to me so that I can love unconditionally and without any expectation of being loved back. I have been very selfish and want all the love to be given to me ... but today, I want to change. Yes, I want to change. I want to love even though the one I love will not love me back. Though I must admit the thought of you who will never love me back breaks my heart and makes me cry ... and I actually cried but I ask for the strength not to resent you and not to be angry at you for your peccadillo but to love you even more. Love is perfect when it is mutual but when it is not mutual, what should we do? Most people say we should stop loving that person because it is too painful for us to continue .. but I guess I will still love you no matter what. You don't love me, fine. But if I kill the love I have for you inside, I am sinful to myself because I'm killing one of the most valuable things in my life ... so just let me love you. I promise I will not cause any nuisance to you. There will be no subtle nuances in your life, I promise. I know you do not know how much I care for you but please never ever be upset and feel alone because I'm here, loving you. One day, maybe we will part. Maybe I will stop loving you because feelings will go away if you stop nurturing them but I will remember, somewhere in this part of my life, I have loved you ... genuinely and unconditionally ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3136675013687221168?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3136675013687221168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3136675013687221168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3136675013687221168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3136675013687221168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/let-me-love-you.html' title='let me love you'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8056960877851957340</id><published>2007-06-22T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T18:28:29.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>to my dear child</title><content type='html'>My dear child, i have some thoughts of you today. I have comprehended the happiness I will have on the day I know I will have you in my life. You are such a beautiful child. The day I know you are coming to existence, I will start reducing my workload so that you will not have to suffer from stress since your young age. You will want to know how wonderful and amazing this life is, right, my child. I will spend a bit of my time now and then to tell you about this life ... your dad, too ... we will love you from the very start. You are the result, the fruit of our love ... and our lives will be completely changed the day you shout out to the world that you have come to life ... maybe I will cry too ... the tears of a mother having her child delivered ... During the time I'm carrying you with me, maybe we can start to plan how we will enjoy our time together in the first few years ... Then, in the first few years, at least first 4 - 5 years, I will keep you all those excessive working and a lost childhood ... I will teach you how to say thank you, how to say sorry, how to be polite, how to be respectful, how to sit and eat properly with consideration for other people,... and most importantly, i will teach you the love for life. And then, you will go to kindergarten so that you will have friends and learn something there ... but don't worry, I won't let them pump too much studying into you ... then, perhaps you will have siblings ... Our family will go to the countryside on the holidays so you can scratch yourselves a bit but don't break any bones, ok? you will have cousins too, ... i want you to have good relationships with many people so you won't be selfish ... oh, so many things I will tell you, my child ... i love you so much&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8056960877851957340?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8056960877851957340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8056960877851957340&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8056960877851957340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8056960877851957340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/to-my-dear-child.html' title='to my dear child'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6072527492322775859</id><published>2007-06-21T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T22:24:29.321-07:00</updated><title type='text'>are u an attention whore?</title><content type='html'>Cool! I like this ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Don't Need Extra Attention&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/areyouanattentionwhorequiz/attention-1.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're perfectly happy with who you are, and you don't need attention to feel good about yourself.&lt;br /&gt;You prefer to let your actions and accomplishments speak for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Working hard to get people to like you is your idea of a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;You've got a lot going on, and anyone with half a brain will notice that on their own!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You come across as: Confident and serious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People may wrongly think you're: Stuck up and shy&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/areyouanattentionwhorequiz/"&gt;Are You An Attention Whore?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6072527492322775859?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6072527492322775859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6072527492322775859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6072527492322775859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6072527492322775859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/are-u-attention-whore.html' title='are u an attention whore?'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2547334603676083298</id><published>2007-06-20T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T22:31:43.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing somebody</title><content type='html'>I was missing somebody. I am missing somebody at this moment too but what is so weird is that I don't know who I am missing ... just a feeling of missing, of needing somebody. Of course, I'm not so weird to the point of missing the air lah. There are a few possibilities of who I actually miss ... yep, a few possibilities ... but I don't know who exactly. I guess that is weird enough. At this point of time when there are so many things that I need to cram into my head, i certainly do not enjoy my heart's company at all. I feel that gush of feeling, of missing all the time. Of course, with my power of suppression and my concentration into my study, I still can study ... but the thing is, the more you suppress it, when it comes again, it comes in a greater force ... oa oa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai, I read your post about a soul finding its way home ... very strange and scary too ... but maybe it is just our desire to find our home. Do you remember all those love songs when they say something like, when i see you, i find my way home. Yes, home ... that is why whenever I walk my way back to the hostel at night or travel on the bus, I always seek to find some yellow lights on the windows of those HDB flats. When i look at those yellow lights, i feel like i'm home, i can see so clearly all the things i've ever done and enjoyed with my family. oh well, ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh man, the teacher has disrupted all my sentimentality. I was going write so many things then a teacher just called me and lured me into science council. Oh my gosh, she said so many things. ok lah, i can give it a try but when it gets too tough ... we'll see ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok ... the feelings come back again. Hehe. yes, yes, I'm really yearning for some care and love at this moment. I don't know who are you, anon but just to answer question about giving up on somebody ... hmm ... difficult question lah. It takes a lot of things for me to like someone so obviously, it is not easy to give up on that someone either. This is a totally irrational thing when someone doesn't like you and you still keep the feelings for that someone but ... totally giving up ... i don't think so. Actually, it's a no-no, hopeless situation in which i can see no future (except in my imagination where i can see so many happy things) but oh well, it's feeling ... no right or wrong ... But now, i really want to have someone, someone to call, someone to sms, someone to whine about things when I feel the need to whine. I guess i sound quite selfish because that someone seems to be like a rubbish bin but no lah, i will listen to him too. Because today is a bad day and I have bothered my friend by sms-ing him my depression so i just feel i really need that someone ... but like i said, on one side, i yearn for that love, on the other side, i'm confused and feel completely unready for anyone ... yep ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2547334603676083298?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2547334603676083298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2547334603676083298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2547334603676083298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2547334603676083298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/missing-somebody.html' title='Missing somebody'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3934089356419030755</id><published>2007-06-19T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T19:27:20.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NRP</title><content type='html'>Aiyaya ... while I was exhausting myself doing last-minute revision, my partner sms me to tell me there would be a meeting today ... oa oa ... not the right time at all ... not just the time to go to NIE and the time doing experiment alone but before going there, i have to do some reading ... Actually, my professor is very nice. He didn't ask us to do anything. We just have to go to the lab, doing some experiments, make some observations, try to give some explanations (though we haven't come up with any very good explanations) ... but this is our project. Supposedly, he is just guiding us only .. so i don't want to be too much dependent on him and let him do all the work. But despite my good intentions, during term 2, he was actually the one who did most of the work. Aiya. I was super busy. Besides, this experiment is relatively unknown and not much have been done for it ... My professor did not provide a lot of introduction ... so i'm quite lost ... when i searched on the internet, they usually assume the readers are familiar to a lot of erudite information ... so the more i read, the more confused i become. My information does not seem to anchor from anywhere concrete. All the details and crazy definitions kept floating around without any clear links. But today, it does seem a little better after another one-and-a-half hour of frustration and more confusion (and of course, cannot study chem, which i planned to study this morning *sign*). But i felt better and a little bit more prepared than those previous meetings. I must learn to manage my time better and I must remind myself I am not superwoman and I cannot handle too many things at a time and so I must learn to say "no" ... but it does seem difficult coz i like so many different things ... aiya ... must learn to let go ... must learn to let go ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current song: i go anywhere for you, anywhere you want me to ... (super duper old already lah ...  but who stops you from listening to old songs ... haha)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3934089356419030755?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3934089356419030755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3934089356419030755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3934089356419030755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3934089356419030755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/nrp.html' title='NRP'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-5551563727553564076</id><published>2007-06-19T02:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T02:31:11.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What makes you different? - BSB</title><content type='html'>Please sing this song to me, whoever you are, my dear darling! Hehe! Men love by eyes, women love by ears ... so say something which is so sweet and which tells me that you understand me. :) ... haha .. sound kinda superficial ... hmmm ... Ee Cheong, I remember you once said that, " 'you've touched my heart in many ways'. Guys say that to girls. Guys say that to everybody ..." Maybe it's true. But I believe there is a difference between saying this just for the sake of pleasing the listeners and saying this because you genuinely feel it ... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don’t run with the crowd&lt;br /&gt;You go your own way&lt;br /&gt;You don’t play after dark&lt;br /&gt;You light up my day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got your own kind of style&lt;br /&gt;That sets you apart&lt;br /&gt;Baby that’s why you capture my heart&lt;br /&gt;I know sometimes you feel&lt;br /&gt;Like you don’t fit in&lt;br /&gt;And this world doesn’t know&lt;br /&gt;What you have within&lt;br /&gt;When I look at youI see something rare&lt;br /&gt;A rose that can grow anywhere&lt;br /&gt;And there’s no one I know that can compare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;What makes you different, makes you beautiful&lt;br /&gt;What's there inside you shines through to me&lt;br /&gt;In your eyes I see all the love I'll ever need&lt;br /&gt;What makes you different makes you beautiful to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got something so real&lt;br /&gt;You touched me so deep&lt;br /&gt;See material things&lt;br /&gt;Don't matter to me&lt;br /&gt;So come as you are&lt;br /&gt;You've got nothing to prove&lt;br /&gt;You won me with all that you do&lt;br /&gt;And I wanna take this chance to say to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't know&lt;br /&gt;How you've touched my life&lt;br /&gt;Oh there's so many ways, I just can't describe (so many)&lt;br /&gt;You taught me what love is supposed to be&lt;br /&gt;It's all the little things that made you beautiful to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-5551563727553564076?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/5551563727553564076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=5551563727553564076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5551563727553564076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5551563727553564076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-makes-you-different-bsb.html' title='What makes you different? - BSB'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6545980735085301489</id><published>2007-06-18T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T06:02:56.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>value profile</title><content type='html'>quite interesting i guess but let me consider if those things are really true or not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#9CDCDC" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Values Profile&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#C9EAEA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/thefivefactorvaluestest/values.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loyalty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You value loyalty a fair amount.&lt;br /&gt;You're loyal to your friends... to a point.&lt;br /&gt;But if they cross you, you will reconsider your loyalties.&lt;br /&gt;Staying true to others is important to you, but you also stay true to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honesty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You value honesty a fair amount.&lt;br /&gt;You're honest when you can be, but you aren't a stickler for it.&lt;br /&gt;If a little white lie will make a situation more comfortable, you'll go for it.&lt;br /&gt;In the end, you mostly care about "situational integrity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generosity:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't really value generosity.&lt;br /&gt;Your needs always come first, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;And you'll possibly help someone else out...&lt;br /&gt;But only if it helps you in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humility:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You value humility a fair amount.&lt;br /&gt;You tend to be an easy going, humble person.&lt;br /&gt;But occasionally your ego takes over.&lt;br /&gt;You have a slight competitive streak - and the need to be the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tolerance:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You value tolerance a fair amount.&lt;br /&gt;You are open to new cultures, beliefs, and ideas.&lt;br /&gt;You have very few prejudices that you're aware of.&lt;br /&gt;And while you are tolerant, you do stand true to what you believe.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/thefivefactorvaluestest/"&gt;The Five Factor Values Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6545980735085301489?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6545980735085301489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6545980735085301489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6545980735085301489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6545980735085301489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/value-profile.html' title='value profile'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4289642010627574107</id><published>2007-06-17T06:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T06:44:45.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how do you live your life</title><content type='html'>Hmmm ... interesting ... Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg align="center" style="color:#B9D3EE;"&gt;&lt;span style="'color:black;font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;How You Life Your Life&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#C6E2FF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howdoyouliveyourlifequiz/faces.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are honest and direct. You tell it like it is.&lt;br /&gt;You're laid back and chill, but sometimes you care too much about what others think.&lt;br /&gt;You tend to have one best friend you hang with, as opposed to many aquaintences.&lt;br /&gt;You have one big dream in your life, and you never lose sight of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howdoyouliveyourlifequiz/"&gt;How Do You Live Your Life?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4289642010627574107?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4289642010627574107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4289642010627574107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4289642010627574107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4289642010627574107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/how-do-you-live-your-life.html' title='how do you live your life'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1043697079078138858</id><published>2007-06-16T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T19:17:40.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>old pops</title><content type='html'>old pops are slow. The words are simple. There is less electronic and distorted sound. Please do not colour me an old-fashioned geek. I do enjoy music from Pussycat dolls, Black Eyed Peas, Chris Brown, Linking Park, Hoobastank, ... too ... but I guess those music is more for entertainment. To seek meanings and some genuine feelings, I have a tendency to look more to slow music and old pops ... Michael Buble, some of Craig David's songs, Westlife ... let me share with you some of the lines I love the most:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Westlife - Close:&lt;br /&gt;You give me strength&lt;br /&gt;You give me hope&lt;br /&gt;You give me someone to love, someone to hold&lt;br /&gt;When I'm in your arms, I need you to know&lt;br /&gt;I've never been, never been ... this ... close&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the love I used to know,&lt;br /&gt;I kept my distance, I never let go&lt;br /&gt;But in your arms, I know i'm safe .......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig David - Unbelievable:&lt;br /&gt;Always said I would know where to find love&lt;br /&gt;Always thought I'd be ready and strong enough&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes I just felt I could give up&lt;br /&gt;But you came and you changed my whole world now&lt;br /&gt;I'm somewhere I've never been before&lt;br /&gt;Now I see&lt;br /&gt;What word love means&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so unbelievable&lt;br /&gt;And I don't wanna let it go&lt;br /&gt;Its something so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Flowin down like a waterfall&lt;br /&gt;I feel like you've always been&lt;br /&gt;Forever a part of me&lt;br /&gt;And it's so unbelievable&lt;br /&gt;To finally be in love&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere I never thought I'd be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today, an old pop song sings to my heart:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love you so&lt;br /&gt;And I love you so,&lt;br /&gt;The people ask me how,&lt;br /&gt;How I've lived 'till now,&lt;br /&gt;I tell them I don't know!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I guess they understand,&lt;br /&gt;How lonely life has been,&lt;br /&gt;But life began again,&lt;br /&gt;The day you took my hand!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And yes, I know,&lt;br /&gt;How lonely life can be,&lt;br /&gt;The shadows follow me,&lt;br /&gt;And the night won't set me free!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But I don't let . . .&lt;br /&gt;The evening get me down,&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're around,&lt;br /&gt;Me!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And you love me too,&lt;br /&gt;Your thoughts are just for me,&lt;br /&gt;You set my spirit free,&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy that you do!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The book of life is brief,&lt;br /&gt;And once a page is read,&lt;br /&gt;All but love is dead,&lt;br /&gt;That is my belief!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And yes, I know,&lt;br /&gt;How lonely life can be,&lt;br /&gt;The shadows follow me,&lt;br /&gt;And the night won't set me free!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But I don't let . . .&lt;br /&gt;The evening get me down,&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're around,&lt;br /&gt;Me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1043697079078138858?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1043697079078138858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1043697079078138858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1043697079078138858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1043697079078138858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/old-pops.html' title='old pops'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3105125500572891715</id><published>2007-06-16T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T18:47:46.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i need some motivation</title><content type='html'>i'm feeling so lethargic today. Despite my slacking level in the past few days and all those previous weeks, I still do not feel any urge to study harder for my term exams. Aiya. I need something or someone to boost my energy level. Please do not laught at me or give me the sarcastic look if I tell you I like to study. Yes, I do like to study a lot. To understand the things around me, to give insights into different things and sometimes to come up with some philosophical things from those things I know really intrigue me. It's hard to explain this but I just feel that way. But I guess, my love for studying must be put in the context or side by side with my love for other things too ... if you want to say it in economic term ... it is diversification ... Haha! I want to watch TV, anime, Disney Channel, planet earth, HBO, CNA (i dun mind if they have some good show), some game shows, ... No TV here. Oh no, there's a TV here but the TV room is so not conducive for me to watch. Imagine myself sitting on that rattan round thing, tsk tsk, a little bit pathetic ... I want to talk to somebody. No, I should be more specific ... somebodIES. It would be super nice if Mai, I and our dreamed loves can form a group of close friends and then we go out together ... maybe the beach ... or Pulau Ubin. Mai, you do not know how to cycle, aren't you? Then, you can sit on your darling's bike! Ha! That will be even better ... or maybe we can just go to those game corners in the shopping mall ... you know, the game machines that you have to use coins ... do some boxing there. Haha! Or maybe we can learn some new things together ... oh, or we can do some puzzles ... 4 of us can buy a picture puzzle of 4 puppies and do together ... Hehe ... aiya, i dream too much already. With our super packed schedules, we cannot do anything ... aiya ... sad already! I'm not sure if it's just our nature to yearn for some kind of love besides that for our families when we reach this age. But I want no puppy love, no short-term fashionable love ... No no ... I want somebody to make me feel like everyday can be a good day ... but then, I'm super scared again. I don't want to steal the freedom from anyone. They too also need to do a lot of things. They too need to fly, need to meet a lot of people before they can make their choice. ok lah, i'll be fine lah ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3105125500572891715?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3105125500572891715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3105125500572891715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3105125500572891715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3105125500572891715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-need-some-motivation.html' title='i need some motivation'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8796623268401594376</id><published>2007-06-15T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T00:36:03.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dear blog</title><content type='html'>Dearest blog! Do you understand me? I do not know where to start. My friend already told me long long time ago living like me would cause a lot of pain to myself. I agreed and until now, I still much agree because I'm feeling the pain right now. Why should I be living like this? I can't seem to be able to be living otherwise anyway. Living otherwise means denying my own self, which of course I don't want. But living like this ... *sign*....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A scholar's life is certainly not meant for a weak spirit. Today, I had training just to know how lousy I am. I didn't feel discouraged. It is not me to feel discouraged because deep inside of me, I always tell myself I can do anything I want. But just as I was standing strong, the water heater did not work so I could not eat my lunch, which is just instant noodle. I couldn't drink milo either so I just had to stick to oreo and the little junk food that I had left. Oh well, this made me miss my home so much. Remembering no matter how late I came home, I could always be sure that there would be something delicious for me to eat or drink, someone to scold me why I had not put sunblock and hence, turned into charcoal. Yep! I miss all those things. No, I should not be weak. I should not be dependent. I should be strong. I want to do something great in my life. If I cannot endure even these small little things, how can I ever achieve my ambitions? But oh well, we all have our soft sides, don't we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to write about my Bintan trip and how much I have enjoyed it but in this sombre mood of mine, I can only remember the sad things that I experienced or realised there. I discovered that after a long long time of living alone, caring about myself alone, I've lost something. I have become clumsy in caring about others. I did not know what to say when I had to say something. My behaviour has become weird when it comes to caring about others. And that's not all. More pathetically, I did not even know how to receive care from others. I did not know how to receive it properly without over-appreciating or under-appreciating. Everything has become so difficult for me. Yes, how funny it is when if you have not had love and care for a long time, you lose the skill to receive it. I feel so much pity for myself now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so at this point in time, how much I want to fall for somebody and that somebody will like me too. I will have somebody to care for me and I will have somebody to care for. But then again, if I cannot really take care of myself, how can I take care of somebody else? No no, I am too scared of relationships already. Relationship will fill my heart with joy, will recharge me anytime I need but relationship takes my time away and sometimes causes too much pain. Relationship has a lot of uncertainty because you never know if your partner is the right one and thus, jealousy comes, degrading your dignity. "Wise men say: only fools rush in" (if you ever remember this line in "can't help falling in love with you). But without relationship, your life is lonely. You look to the left, you see your lonely shadow. You look to the right, you see your soul drying up. I don't want to be like this. But the fear of being cheated, of breaking up, of not being loved back scares me ... yes, it scares me a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's a line in "how to touch a girl" that i really like: are you fiction or fact? And then I realise my fantasy and my imagination are just too good to be true. I am not important. I am not attractive. I am nothing but just a normal person. and then I understand now when people say "i don't want to face the truth". The truth is too painful when you have been living in your fantasy for so long ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8796623268401594376?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8796623268401594376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8796623268401594376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8796623268401594376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8796623268401594376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/dear-blog.html' title='dear blog'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-5845345427203048380</id><published>2007-06-02T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T05:37:39.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>record-breaking week</title><content type='html'>this week is the record-breaking week. There is no week like this week. My gosh! After arriving at my home, I indulged myself in my mom's good food for the good part of the week. The whole week consists of time for eating, sleeping, more eating and sleeping ... and maybe some more time to go shopping and buy some new clothes ... and cut my hair also. Ha! I love this hair ... looks nice on me, I guess ... and so, i gained 2kg in just 5 days. Last year, I could gain 2kg in 2 weeks but this year ... whoa ... speechless ... no other words to say. But then today, the last day I stayed at home, I lost that 2kg in just 1 day ... diarrhoea if you want to know the reason why. Tsk tsk. Let's see ... I woke up at 0530 in the morning because of the sudden painful contraction in my stomach and found out I got diarrhoea and for the next 7 hours, I tossed and turned in pain on the mattress. My dad also got it. think it should be because those things we had eaten outside last night. Lucky enough, my mom did not eat it and thus, was still healthy and strong this morning to look after my dad and me ... my gosh! the whole morning of pain, medicine, concentrated mineral water, going to the toilet, vomitting, whining, ... then at round 1230, i got a little bit better and ate some porridge and went to sleep. At 1700, i woke up to find myself having a fever. Huhu. I wanted to cry. My mom had to go and ask the pharmacist near my house again. He said it was just because i lost too much water .. that's why i ran the fever. This is terrible ... some more medicine and concentrated mineral water ... I can tell you that the concentrated mineral water tastes awful but I have to drink it. Otherwise, i will not have enough salt in my body and all the cramps will come in. This is terrible! Now i know what it means to have diarrhoea. Remember those who wanted to skip PE saying that they had diarrhoea ... hmm ... bluff ... bluff ... BLUFF! you can't have diarrhoea and still "hihi haha" you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was another episode of my mom and me trying to hunt the anti-malaria pills. two days wasted for those pills. Before I came back, my parents had already went and asked those local medical centre specialising in preventing the spread of infectious diseases. They already said that they do not use anti-malaria pills nowadays so they directed my parents to Pasteur vaccination centre. So, when i came back, my parents took me there. The receptionist said that I had to go to the vaccination centre for people going abroad because they don't have anything anti-malaria there. So we had to go there to find out we had to come back the following day because it was the end of their working day. *Angry already*. The next day, we went to that centre again and they said they don't have anything anti-malaria either (?) and then, directed us back to Pasteur vaccination centre (????!!!!!). The receptionist at Pasteur vaccination was such an annoying woman, she wanted to scold us because we didn't listen to her ... but she didn't listen to us either ... we already told her that they had no anti-malaria thing at the other centre! Lucky we met a doctor and he allowed us to go into one of the consultation room and asked. The doctor said we had to go to the Hospital for tropical diseases which is super duper very terribly far away. After arriving there, because I'm very tired now (haha), I won't tell you the whole long story there again .... haha ... anyway, we met one very good pharmacist who gave us the anti-malaria pills ... This is to know how inefficient the system here is. How much productive time is wasted just to go around and around and around like this! Never know to find anti-malaria pills is that difficult because anyway, this country is breeding ground for malaria ... not to degrade my country of origin but ... oh well, that's the way it is&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-5845345427203048380?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/5845345427203048380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=5845345427203048380&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5845345427203048380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5845345427203048380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/06/record-breaking-week.html' title='record-breaking week'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4671433366711654256</id><published>2007-05-26T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T22:35:14.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>home sweet home</title><content type='html'>I'm finally at home. As I was walking the familiar and beloved staircase of my house to my room, I smelled the oh-so-endearing smell that I have loved since I was young. I don't know how to describe this smell to you. It is just a very special smell that I can only find in my home and I can only begin to smell it somewhere in the middle of the staircase. Yes, I'm home now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday night, almost all my relatives came over to have a little party that I have come back home. I only stay here for one week but they just like to see me and to ask me how my life is going ... yeah ... Once again, I sat in my living room, with all those delicious dishes cooked by my mom and was surrounded by the noise and fuss of my beloved cousins and aunts of what to eat next. I also stayed in the living room after that to have a "women's talk" with my mom, my 2 aunts and my grandmother. a while after that, my bro came down and joined us but he just remained silent. Haha. After everybody went back home, my mom and I continued talking until it was one. Tsk tsk. Women are talkative, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no place like home. Yes, it's so true. There is no other place that I can feel at peace like this. The moment I wake up in the morning, neither do I feel lethargic or stressed or tired, or anything of that sort although in the back of my mind, I'm still aware that I have tons and tons and tons of work to finish. But who cares? I'm in my room now. My mom is reading the paper. If I turned to my right now, I will see the half-closed curtains, and in the half-open part, I will see a tree standing there. My mom has just bought it recently. No noise ... just the sound of me typing ... I feel my soul being healed, my energy bar being filled up ... slowly but surely ... yes. There is no place like home. My mom also bought some kind of decoration made from stone ... which two lines of poem on it ... and i would like to share with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"con du lon van la con cua me&lt;br /&gt;Di het doi long me van theo con" (Vietnamese)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no matter how mature you are, you are still my child&lt;br /&gt;Until the end of the life, my love is still with you" (English)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pardon my poor translation for those who know both Vietnamese and English. My mom said she bought it in a high-quality product fair. She said they (my father and she) saw two pieces of decoration of this kind. The other one is some kind of a teaching. She doesn't want to force any type of philosophy or moral values on me. she just wanted to express some feelings ... yeah ... I guess, now you know why I'm quite a sentimental and emotional person ........ coz i was born in an emotional family . :) . i will bring this piece of decoration back to Singapore ... quite heavy though ... but ... if u know what i mean :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4671433366711654256?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4671433366711654256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4671433366711654256&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4671433366711654256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4671433366711654256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/home-sweet-home.html' title='home sweet home'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-17247118251059551</id><published>2007-05-24T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T23:06:59.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random</title><content type='html'>Thank you, my team captain. You've brightened my day in the way that I have never expected. Somehow, you have recharged me and all my sadness and laziness just suddenly went away. I guess you are not aware of this. But you somehow let me know that I have so many more things to give and the small little burdens and nuisances should be just discarded because I will always have people like you here. You just appeared when I felt most lethargic and want to give up. In the morning, I wanted to say my life sometimes was like a sad song. But you came. you didn't do much. you just talked to me. And now, i'm ready to take this sad song and make it better. Thank you a lot, my team captain!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-17247118251059551?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/17247118251059551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=17247118251059551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/17247118251059551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/17247118251059551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/r.html' title='Random'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4009408686192692622</id><published>2007-05-24T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T08:03:56.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1 + 1 = 0</title><content type='html'>Yes, when 1 + 1 = 0, or in other words, when it is a one-sided affair, one party will suffer. You sit at one corner and observe the other party, notice those small little things that he does and find yourself endeared to those very small little things that no one notices except you. Or maybe a lot of people notice but who cares what other people see or feel about it, you see it and you feel something. And at that very moment when you feel the gush of strong emotional attachments to that particular person from your heart, you also feel another tide of cold reality pouring down from your brain, trying to stop your feelings from developing and growing any further. That cold, harsh reality is that you can never be together with that person. Even in your wildest dream, it will never happen. That person will never look your way. When that person looks at you, he see no more than another friend, another normal person that he meets everyday. It is totally irrational to continue to have anything more for a person if you have already realized this fact. But why do all these things not go away and leave me in peace? Yes, when 1 + 1 = 0, one party will suffer. Or may be i am just stupid and blinded by my own sentiments and thus, have the illusion that there is the second number one there. I guess after all, there is only one "1" in the equation. The other party is not present in the equation, we only have 1 + 0 = 0 ... just one "1" standing alone, leaving itself with no happy endings&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4009408686192692622?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4009408686192692622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4009408686192692622&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4009408686192692622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4009408686192692622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/1-1-0.html' title='1 + 1 = 0'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7851979054311884216</id><published>2007-05-24T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T07:41:24.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>smart</title><content type='html'>It's hard to be a smart girl. It's not easy to be smart boy either but ... to be a smart girl, maybe a bit harder or perhaps, because i'm a girl, i have not seen the various adversities faced by guys but never mind, let me talk about the adversities faced by a girl first. To be smart, you have to have a brain, to have an opinion and sometimes to be assertive and maybe even aggressive. But a girl, traditionally, is expected to be feminine, that is to be gentle, to be humble and sometimes a little bit (or not a lot) submissive. How are you gonna mix these two concepts together? Today, smart girls usually choose to be assertive rather than feminine. They want to be strong, to be independent, to be viewed as being able to do whatever a guy can do. I'm not saying that this is bad ... but i just feel that it is a bit dangerous. If you are too smart, too assertive, guys will most probably admire you to the extent that they fear you. BUT, a girl ultimately will be a mother, or in other words, a care-giver. So should they be fierce and be feared by other people? It's true that smart guys may find smart girls attractive just because those girls are very smart and will argue and even make guys plunge into the power struggle with them. Those smart girls make guys feel challenged and more compelled to chase after them. Yes, smart girls are attractive. But, are those characteristics of challenging and argueing a lot ideal for a wife and a mother. You cannot have husband and wife engaged in a debate everytime you turn on the TV or everytime, the child brings back a test paper, right? But it is stupid to dumb yourself down just because you want to be called feminine or cute. So how? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is obvious, I guess. It is an as old as the Earth, ever-so-expected answer. Strike a balance. While you are smart, you need to be make your intelligence an endearing intelligence or in other words, a humble intelligence. Your intelligence should be the one that people love, not the one that people fear. In order to do that, I guess you must use your intelligence to serve other people. Intelligence should be built in the relationship with other people in the community. Nevertheless, there is always danger in every solution to any problem. when you are make your intelligence a humble one, some people tend to exploit it. This leads me to another observation. There are two things that are attached to intelligence, the cause of intelligence (determination, diligence) and the effect of intelligence (ability to do many things). There are people who love you because they treasure the cause of your intelligence but others love you because they want the effect of your intelligence. The latter will exploit you if you are humble. so be careful! you just cannot avoid them. there's no way to reduce the number of this type of people ... so yah, live with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm ... i do not consider myself a smart girl but other people say so, so let just think of it that way. Just because of that tag name pasted on me, I have been suffering a bit from the effect of my smartness. I have not been able to find a lot of people who fall into the first category of loving me because of the cause of my intelligence. I'm thankful for the few who do but this gratitude sometimes is not enough to compensate the sufferings. Sometimes, I just really feel used. If one day, i stop being smart, my brain grow smaller, i guess those people will stop bothering me and i will be free again. I guess i will feel a bit of a loss after quite a long time having that kind of attention but i guess i will feel safer because those who stay with me are truly those i need in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7851979054311884216?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7851979054311884216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7851979054311884216&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7851979054311884216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7851979054311884216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/smart.html' title='smart'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4936045150992114183</id><published>2007-05-19T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T19:29:11.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unchained melody - Justin Guarini</title><content type='html'>Less than one week more and i will be back home. At this moment, i want to listen to this song again, over and over again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"&gt;Unchained melody - Justin Guarini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooooh my love,&lt;br /&gt;my darling,&lt;br /&gt;ive hungered for your touch,&lt;br /&gt;a long, lonely time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and time, goes by,&lt;br /&gt;so slowly, and time,&lt;br /&gt;can do so much.&lt;br /&gt;are you, still mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need, your love,&lt;br /&gt;i, i need your love.&lt;br /&gt;godspeed your love, to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lonely rivers flow,&lt;br /&gt;to the sea, to the sea,&lt;br /&gt;to the open arms, of the sea, yeaah&lt;br /&gt;lonely rivers sigh, wait for me, wait for me,&lt;br /&gt;ill be coming home, wait for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oooooh my love,&lt;br /&gt;my darling,&lt;br /&gt;ive hungered, hungered,&lt;br /&gt;for your touch,&lt;br /&gt;a long lonely time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and time, goes by,&lt;br /&gt;so slowly, and time,&lt;br /&gt;can do so much,&lt;br /&gt;are you, still mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need your love,&lt;br /&gt;i, i need you love,&lt;br /&gt;godspeed your love, to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4936045150992114183?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4936045150992114183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4936045150992114183&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4936045150992114183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4936045150992114183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/unchained-melody-justin-guarini.html' title='Unchained melody - Justin Guarini'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7137558867714240687</id><published>2007-05-13T04:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T04:34:30.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how do you communicate</title><content type='html'>Haha! I've become a bit addicted to this blogthing!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEE9E9" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Communicate With Your Body&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFAFA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howdoyoucommunicatequiz/body.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't as bad as it sounds, it just means that you're a "touchy-feely" person.&lt;br /&gt;You need a lot of affection in your life. And for you, this means both giving and receiving little touches.&lt;br /&gt;Warm hearted, you bond with people easily. In fact, you often feel a little sad when you're not in the company of others.&lt;br /&gt;A little moody, you tend to be controlled by your emotions. But a bit hug always comforts you!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howdoyoucommunicatequiz/"&gt;How Do You Communicate?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7137558867714240687?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7137558867714240687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7137558867714240687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7137558867714240687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7137558867714240687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-do-you-communicate.html' title='how do you communicate'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6602855366398277428</id><published>2007-05-11T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T04:37:07.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What should you major in</title><content type='html'>YES YES YES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Scholastic Strength Is Innovating&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatshouldyoumajorinquiz/innovating.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the master of new ideas, techniques, and ways of looking at things.&lt;br /&gt;You are talented at structuring thoughts, decision making, clarifying, and making deadlines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should major in:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marketing&lt;br /&gt;Psychology&lt;br /&gt;Desgin&lt;br /&gt;Cognitive Science &lt;br /&gt;Economics&lt;br /&gt;Photography&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatshouldyoumajorinquiz/"&gt;What Should You Major In?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6602855366398277428?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6602855366398277428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6602855366398277428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6602855366398277428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6602855366398277428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/yes-yes-yes-your-scholastic-strength-is.html' title='What should you major in'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-5915384277802097335</id><published>2007-05-11T17:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T04:37:34.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How are you in love</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEE9E9" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;How You Are In Love&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFAFA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howareyouinlovequiz/rose.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In relationships, you tend to be a bit selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need your space and privacy. You don't like to be smothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stay in love for a long time, even if you aren't loved back. When you fall, you fall hard.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howareyouinlovequiz/"&gt;How Are You In Love?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-5915384277802097335?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/5915384277802097335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=5915384277802097335&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5915384277802097335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5915384277802097335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-you-are-in-love-you-take-while-to.html' title='How are you in love'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6694988552235039581</id><published>2007-05-11T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T16:24:57.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>coming back to my beloved blog</title><content type='html'>*sign* Yep! It's been a long time since I last wrote my blog. My life has been super duper hectic. Everyday, I came back at 6 plus and still had tons of homework to do. In fact, now is not a good time to write blog because I still have a GP reading package, the GP IL learning, Chemystery newsletter, Maths EPQ, GP essay plan, Econs DRQ, blah blah blah ... But I guess I need to take some time off to talk to my blog as a means of taking care of my batterd body and soul ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was the Economics Week in school. Hehe, it is super fun. Everyday of the week we had the stock trainging game ... yeah ... I was at the booth for most of my break. The most fun part for the game was saying, "you are losing your money". Haha. Monday, Tuesday, econs quiz for J1, J2. Wednesday, Thursday, econs talk. Hmm .. about the talk ..I think the talks are quite okay but the words they said did not go straight to my head as what Mr Lancelot Lim said ... I guess the speakers were trying to provide information only. I feel they lacked that bit of genuine sharing and undying passion. Haha. I guess lah. I think it is that passion that helps to inject so much wisdom into Mr Lim's words that they make so much sense to me and I nearly remember every words he said. :D... Oh yah, about Mr Lancelot Lim, this thing is super freaky. The other day, they were trying to tease him so they typed his name on Google and search ... and guess what? Google led them straight to my blog!!!!!!!! I felt my heart stop beating! Argg! Actually, there's nothing to be embarrassed about if people read my blog but because sometimes, you don't want other people to know what you think about them .. Hix ... but then, the strangest thing is that when I got back home and tried searching for his name again ... nothing came out ... I couldn't see my blog even at page 4, 5 of google search results! Oh my God, is somebody trying to play on me? This is scary ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conscious kindness! I don't like it. I have seen so many consciously kind people. They try to let you know, they try to let you see that they are kind and that you should recognize them, admire them, acknowlegde them ... But is it good or bad? Anyway, they are kind .. just that the way they are kind is a bit different. I just don't feel that it is very right. But then, on second thought, I'm wondering if I am conscioulsy kind also. People talk too much about kindness, praise too much about kindness, consciously hammer too much into our heads about kindness ... They don't allow us to learn it subconsciouly ... We learn it consciously, so obviously we manifest it consciouly to show people that we have learnt it .. so no need to talk about it anymore. After all, I do not know if praise is a good thing. It induces too much fakeness in this world that I cannot stand it. So foolish people are doing things just because of praises, or in the more practical term, testimony. But, like what Mr Lancelot Lim has said, "money is not evil. It's the love for money that is the root of all evil." Yes, we fool create the good things and make evil out of them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly feel sad because of one thing that should have made me feel sad long long ago. Yes, I should have felt this sadness long long ago and have gotten over it by now ... but I didn't and now, I do. There is one thing I have not realized that people come and go. Whenever there is notion of "coming into my life", there is always the possible continuance of "goint out of my life". There's nothing harmful to you when you are the one who comes and goes ... but what if you are the one who stays? You suddenly feel the some sense of completeness at one moment, the next moment, you feel the emptiness. I certainly don't like it. Why do they have to come to let you know there's a hole inside your heart that needs to be filled then they just go away, leaving it hollow again? Then, I realize there's one thing or rather one person, or rather two persone who do not go away. It's because they do not come into your life. You come into their lives ... your parents ... Yes, they were there when you were born. They are just naturally a part of your life. but you, you come into their lives and then you leave them to find something else in the world outside. It is just like ... the tree will never leave the flowers ... just the flowers leaving the tree ... But now, let me fly home so that i know there's one place in this world I'm safe .. safe from jealousy, safe from fakeness, safe from schemes, safe from sadness ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6694988552235039581?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6694988552235039581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6694988552235039581&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6694988552235039581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6694988552235039581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/05/coming-back-to-my-beloved-blog.html' title='coming back to my beloved blog'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1391844921536929209</id><published>2007-04-28T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T04:25:34.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Articles</title><content type='html'>Something to read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Girls, It's be Yourself and Be Perfect too&lt;br /&gt;http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/01/education/01girls.html?ei=5087&amp;en=004644a8b8d11ae9&amp;ex=1191470400&amp;excamp=mkt_atlink2&amp;pagewanted=all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther Mobley's College Essay&lt;br /&gt;http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/30/us/girls-esther-essay.html?ex=1177905600&amp;en=3cb7a27b95647ec4&amp;ei=5070&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1391844921536929209?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1391844921536929209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1391844921536929209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1391844921536929209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1391844921536929209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/articles.html' title='Articles'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3392023599452851420</id><published>2007-04-20T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T08:54:10.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh gosh</title><content type='html'>This is a very short post just to vent something out of my heart. Arg ... can you please shut up for a while? Can you please stop calling my name? My parents gave me a short name not for you to make it sound super sharp and piercing. You give no soul, no rhythm, no emotion, no attention, no care to my name when you use it ... in other words, you just use my name to attract my attention for your own purpose, not caring anything about what i am doing, what i am focusing, what i am feeling. It's not meant to be like that, you know. My parents and those who love never call me like that. The same word coming out of their mouths but it sounds very soothing and makes me want to turn and attend to them ... not like you ... the moment you call out my name, I just want to turn away. BECAUSE MY NAME IS NOT MEANT TO BE CALLED LIKE THAT ... it is short and sweet, not short and sharp ... arg .........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3392023599452851420?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3392023599452851420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3392023599452851420&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3392023599452851420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3392023599452851420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/oh-gosh.html' title='oh gosh'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-5703271277475441977</id><published>2007-04-20T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T07:12:31.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what artist should paint your portrait?</title><content type='html'>Oh man ... speechless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who Should Paint You: Pablo Picasso&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatartistshouldpaintyourportraitquiz/pablo-picasso.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your an expressive soul who shows many emotions, with many subtleties&lt;br /&gt;Only a master painter could represent your glorious contradictions&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatartistshouldpaintyourportraitquiz/"&gt;What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-5703271277475441977?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/5703271277475441977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=5703271277475441977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5703271277475441977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/5703271277475441977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-artist-should-paint-your-portrait.html' title='what artist should paint your portrait?'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-8847133950395954204</id><published>2007-04-20T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T05:45:33.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the part of you that no one sees</title><content type='html'>Hehe. Take the link from Mai's blog and just choose 1 picture from the list. Just chose that picture because of the colour ... hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg align="center" style="color:#DDDDDD;"&gt;&lt;span style="'color:black;font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Part of You That No One Sees&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsthepartofyouthatnooneseesquiz/green.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You are balanced, peaceful, and sincere.You're the type of person who goes along to get along.And you're definitely afraid of rocking the boat.&lt;br /&gt;Underneath it all, you fear your world falling apart.You'll put up with a situation that you don't like in fear of changing it.Disruptive and forceful people intimidate you - and sometimes exploit you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsthepartofyouthatnooneseesquiz/"&gt;What's" the Part of You That No One Sees?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-8847133950395954204?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/8847133950395954204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=8847133950395954204&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8847133950395954204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/8847133950395954204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/part-of-you-that-no-one-sees.html' title='the part of you that no one sees'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6668648521838421108</id><published>2007-04-20T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T05:25:15.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem, love - the chemical way</title><content type='html'>Haha, this poem is inside the Chemystery - newsletter, just issued today. Very nice reading, haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poem, Love - The Chemical Way&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#006600;"&gt;By Mr K.Kunasegaran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;How do I love thee? Allow me to quantify the ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved thee when first I observed thy configuration,&lt;br /&gt;Falling in love with thee was a chemical reaction&lt;br /&gt;And, I jumped from the ground state to an excited state.&lt;br /&gt;Before I met thee, I was a free radical - aimless and unsettled&lt;br /&gt;But, now thou has made me more stable.&lt;br /&gt;I loved thy reaction when I presented thee with a joule (jewel)&lt;br /&gt;So exothermic thy was and so endothermic I was, absorbing thy love,&lt;br /&gt;We bonded spontaneously liberating Gibbs free energy&lt;br /&gt;and are now at equilibrium in the combined state.&lt;br /&gt;Thou maketh me feel almost noble with your presence&lt;br /&gt;And become inert when you are absent&lt;br /&gt;My love for you is too intense and cannot be measured even in megajoules&lt;br /&gt;And so complex, that no empirical formul exists to describe it&lt;br /&gt;Our bond is strong - like a covalent bond,&lt;br /&gt;Stirred, but not shaken, because it came out of sp hybridisation&lt;br /&gt;Out of our bondage, as unique as an orbital,&lt;br /&gt;Filled with just the two of us - happily spin pair,&lt;br /&gt;We have now expanded beyond our stable duplet,&lt;br /&gt;I love thee for the children thou hast generated,&lt;br /&gt;Who daily prove the second law of thermodynamics.&lt;br /&gt;I love thee infinitely, much more than even, Avogadro could quantify,&lt;br /&gt;Because it's never going to be constant even for Faraday's constant to apply.&lt;br /&gt;But brevity sake, I can only tell thee how I love thee,&lt;br /&gt;And that our love can never be reduced or quantized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe! I want to meet Mr Kuna's wife now. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6668648521838421108?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6668648521838421108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6668648521838421108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6668648521838421108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6668648521838421108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/poem-love-chemical-way.html' title='Poem, love - the chemical way'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3510495311390560924</id><published>2007-04-20T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T05:08:57.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing home</title><content type='html'>Hi blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my school announced we could take part in the Singapore Maths Olympiad. I did not sign up for it. Somebody asked me why. I said I wanted to go back home ... yes, I want to go back home. Blog, do you understand me? No, you will not understand me unless you are living very far far away from your parents. Everyday, when you come back home from school, when you open your room's door, you always imagine the sight of them sitting there, waiting for you. And when it comes to you that they are obviously not here, and when all you can see are your things remaining at the place where you have put them, your heart just loses one beat. Then, you realize, they, too, in that far far away place, are missing you too. They are waiting for you. They are waiting for that sms that says, "I've bought the air ticket. I'll be home on ...., arriving at the airport at ....". They are waiting for that message ... but it will not come anytime very soon ... :((&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3510495311390560924?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3510495311390560924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3510495311390560924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3510495311390560924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3510495311390560924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/missing-home.html' title='Missing home'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2362063818386955070</id><published>2007-04-18T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T07:59:55.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Purpose in life</title><content type='html'>As I am typing this blog, my limbs are trembling in exhaustion. I can feel my heart trying very hard to keep a steady rate of beating. There is an uneasy feeling in my throat. My eyes are very tired. My brain is not working very well. I have spent the whole afternoon at Turf City supporting my school's cross-country team in some championship. My effort to be there is nothing. I did not do anything strenuous or beyond my ability. Just that long hours of being there made me quite tired ... I am waiting for my friend to send his PI over so that I can help him print so I am writing this post now ... to express the many feelings I have inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had an NE lesson on CIP planning. Mr Kayden Lim said something about objectives which rang so true to me. He said you should have your objectives in mind when you are planning something. Don't just do something and then as you do, you find the good objectives out of it. It is quite strange, he said. YES! It is so true, true not in planning something alone but also in life. I've been feeling like I'm floating in the air for quite some time with no support, no anchor. I go to school to do my work. I go back to the hostel to eat, to sleep and to do some more work. My whole day and my whole week is work. I work too much up to the point that I just feel like I'm working just for the sake of working, with the hope in working I will find some goods out of it. Mind you, I'm not a workaholic. I do not love working very much ... hmm ... i do like working but because I do find some meanings in working ... I do not work because I want to work. BUT, all the rush and deadlines are making me work just because I need to work. I have seemed to lose my objective to work. I do stop working once in a while during the day when I am tired to think about why I am in such a state of floating like crazy like this. But I can't find the reason why I have lost my objectives. Then, I have come to reflect what my objectives had been all the while before this happened. And I realized ... my objectives have always been other people. When I was back in my country, I came to school to work because other people were working with me or rather were walking beside me in my journey. I enthusiastically worked through the day in the excitement, the joy of coming home because my parents would be waiting for me at my home. They would be smiling at me, asking me how my days had been. Then, I continued doing my homework because subconsciously, I knew that when I finished my homework, I could join my parents in their conversation, in watching TV and I knew when I finished my homework, I would find a personal satisfaction in the satisfaction of my parents and my teachers knowing that I have done my work well. It was never because of me. Am I confusing you? I'm not very sure ... but recently, I think I have lost my objectives. I come to school because of nobody. I come back to the hostel because of nobody. It's just me, myself and I. Noone knows or maybe I am just too busy to notice if anyone knows. so I just work in the hope of finding meaning in the work itself. But no, it has failed .... BUT, today, I think I have found my objectives again ... just the realization that I have lost my objectives has helped me find a way to make my life more meaningful ... yes, I think I have found my objectives again ... in somebody ... a version of me. That is a version of me ... yes, a version of me, just a different physical form ... but i am sure inside, that is me ... nobody else. Yes, I am talking about somebody that I have found ... who have been able to give me my objectives again ... of course, my parents still remain the main objectives in my life but I think I have found another person to give me that. That person does not know that. That person, sadly, only treats me like a normal person to meet everyday, nothing more, nothing less. But that is ok ... I have found something most meaningful at this stage of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have so many things to say? I do not know how to continue this post. Oh yes, it's him. He used to be the man I most loved in this world. He used to be the one whom I wanted to marry after I graduated from university. Now, I guess the chemisty is no longer here but I still care a lot about him. We do not call ourselves a couple any longer but we still keep a lookout for each other. I do not contact him very frequently. Actually, I have not talked to him for like 2 or 3 months. We seem so far away from each other now. But, no matter how I treat him, he remains faithful to me. He patiently sends me sms to encourage me because he knows I am suffering from my own passion though I do not want to complain about it. He rarely receives a reply thanks to all my exhaustion and laziness but he never says a word. He just continues to be a faithful friend who keeps being there for me. Where else in the world can I find such an unconditional love? He loves me just for the sake of having a love of his own. He just gives, never expects to receive back although he very much wants to receive in response. I am so blessed ... I receive more than I give ... then why should I keep making a big fuss about how my life has been so hectic and unbearable? Yes, he has touched my heart the way no one else has ever done before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, God! Please give me the strength that I need to carry on with my life with all the passion and energy that I have inside. I have been asking you to help other people who trust in you ... so now, I am asking you to help me. I need to survive and live very well to give back all the things that I have received and more importantly, to pass on the passion and the spirit I have found in the people surrounding me. I am trembling inside. My bones are tired. My body is calling me to rest. I guess you have made some arrangement in my life. You have helped me to make things happen because now and then, I can sense your presence in making all those coincidence and all those opportunities to come my way. So, if you have given me a chance to lead a meaningful life that is useful for others, please give me the strength to do so ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2362063818386955070?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2362063818386955070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2362063818386955070&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2362063818386955070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2362063818386955070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/purpose-in-life.html' title='Purpose in life'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7580699603551168121</id><published>2007-04-13T21:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T22:27:09.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A donkey</title><content type='html'>Have you ever heard of the story of the donkey before? Maybe it's a mule ... but I can't remember. I guess you have read it somewhere ... just let me retell it here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A farmer bought a donkey. He brought his new donkey to the market to help him carry his stuffs back home. At the market, happy with the new income he had from the harvest, he bought a lot of things and then loaded onto the donkey. On the way home, he also visited a lot of shops and bought a few more things and then, loaded again on the donkey. That was a new donkey. He was not used to carrying so many things. His strength was limited and his feet began to tremble as the farmer loaded more and more things onto his back. The donkey could only walk very slowly. Worse still, it was scorching hot. The donkey was trying very hard to walk back while the farmer was walking beside him. Then, since it was too hot to bear, the farmer took out his shirt and put on top of the pile of things that he had loaded. Up to this point, the donkey had been totally exhausted ... so he collapsed. And the farmer shouted, "what a useless donkey! He can't even carry a shirt!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound familiar? Yay! I think it's not a very new story. But I just want to ask 1 question. Is it the farmer who is stupid or the donkey which is stupid? The farmer was insensitive to the donkey's tiredness and exhaustion. The farmer was blinded, literraly. He could only see the top of the amount of work he had put on the donkey, not the whole picture of it. BUT! The donkey is stupid too. He should have moaned. He should have groaned. He should not have kept silent ... so that the farmer would be aware of his sufferings. No, the farmer was oblivious of the donkey's sufferings. It was the donkey fault not to tell the farmer anything ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the donkey. YES, I AM THE DONKEY. I remember reading somewhere that, "when you work, no one cares. When you rest, everyone stares." Huh! What is that? I don't know. I quietly do anything that I am supposed to do. I quietly do things that I don't need to do but I want to do. I make no fuss about it. I don't want to shout so that the whole world knows that I'm doing my things and I do suffer from tiredness and exhaustion. But, the moment I fail to do something ... there are complaints, there are "wa lau"s (don't know how to spell it), ... . ARG! Just give me a rest! Yes, I should have whined about the amount of work that I am doing. But no, I do not want to do it because I choose to do things that I'm doing. so, why should I moan and groan and complain? But it does seem that I have to TALK about my sufferings then people will know that I am suffering. Oh my god! What am i supposed to do? Self-pity, the pathetic, perpetual illness of human beings. People are blinded by their own work, their own things, and they can't see what other people are doing or feeling. They can only see themselves. For other people, they can only see what is visible, they can only hear what is audible ... they can't see beyond the eyes ... they can't hear beyond silence. If they do not achieve what they want to achieve, they find excuses to pity themselves that they do not know things that they do not know. Oh my God! I'm sick of your self-pity. Just free me from all your selfishness. I'm not trying to be anything more than humans. I'm not saying that I don't have self-pity as well. If I don't, I won't be writing this post, pitying myself having to suffer from all your crazy self-pity. But can you please put yourself a little bit lower in your scale of preferrences? You can't have everything you want. You choose to live your life the way you are doing now. So you can't be living your life the way I'm living my life. So, just be happy with what you have and stop looking at my life and criticize it. Arg... I'm sick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who do love me and care for me, you also have a very tiring and hectic week. At the end of the week, you want to rest, you want to enjoy yourself, you want good company. You don't want to read some more complains, you don't want to see some more criticisms which you have seen so much during your weekdays. You want weekends, you don't want an extension of weekdays. I'm just like you. But I have suppressed my frustration for 5 days and I need to vent it out. So please bear with me. And join me today for breakfast, lunch or dinner or maybe even supper. We will have a good laugh. We will leave all those crazy things behind and do the things we do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7580699603551168121?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7580699603551168121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7580699603551168121&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7580699603551168121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7580699603551168121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/donkey.html' title='A donkey'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4194966879230524914</id><published>2007-04-13T21:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T21:56:30.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random</title><content type='html'>Please touch my heart the way no one has ever done before&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4194966879230524914?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4194966879230524914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4194966879230524914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4194966879230524914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4194966879230524914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/random.html' title='Random'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-407961802759143154</id><published>2007-04-07T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:12:20.328-08:00</updated><title type='text'>long weekend</title><content type='html'>Hah! After all my stubbornness of not going to the doctor's, I finally went to Clementi polyclinic today because my flu seemed to worsen. Actually, this morning, I was still in the middle of the road, half wanted to go to the doctor's and half wanted to stay at the hostel. After eating breakfast, I had a terrible headache again, so I told myself that I must go to see the doctor but after I took panadol, I got better so I became lazy again but then, just realized that I should not be stubborn any more because next week is full of tests and timed assignment. Mai accompanied me to the clinic ... hehe, without her, I might just faint on the bus and have a good sleep there :D. Ok ... got to the clinic, took the queue number, waited for the doctor, answered my dad's call with the full-of-phlegm voice ... and this is my medicine :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050646179965730018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/Rhd_8PMKfOI/AAAAAAAAABI/peJie1-GJiI/s400/Picture0012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling much better now ... oh yah, the lozenge that the doctor gave me is just as sweet as candy, haha. ok, it tastes like some vitamin C tablet lah ... i don't mind chewing more of it lah haha&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hehe, yesterday was Good Friday. Mai and I decided to break away from our super tight saving schemes for once and returned to the even tighter saving schemes later, haha. We went to see "because I said so". I really liked the line, "I am trying too hard to prevent you from being me" from the mother. Yah, motherhood is hard ... did not really know how my mom has raised me ... i just want to copy her, hehe! Yay! And cheesecake also&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050648280204737778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RheB2fMKfPI/AAAAAAAAABQ/b2v60I236DM/s400/Picture0009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yah, and Mai bought this pair of outrageous shoes. Haha! She was scared that she looked like some kind of Korean bimbo. Haha! It's ok, Mai. Being a bimbo is very hard, haha! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh yah, when we were waiting for the movie. We went around to window-shop. And I saw these two very nice male's T-shirts. Arg ... They would look really nice on my bro and my cousin ... but they are a bit too expensive for me to buy two at the same time :((. I'm still thinking about those two shirts now ... feeling so uncomfortable now ... arg ............................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-407961802759143154?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/407961802759143154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=407961802759143154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/407961802759143154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/407961802759143154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/long-weekend.html' title='long weekend'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/Rhd_8PMKfOI/AAAAAAAAABI/peJie1-GJiI/s72-c/Picture0012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-1547004352623236603</id><published>2007-04-05T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T02:49:09.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SICK</title><content type='html'>Today is one of the saddest day of my life. Every moment of today is a suitable moment to cry. I want to scream. I want to shout. I want to yell ... just to let all my depression and frustration go away ... away ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept from 7pm last night until 5.30 am this morning because I was too sick to get up. And when I woke up, I heard myself whining into the dark. Yes! I heard my voice, the sickening voice, the broken voice ... answered by no other voice. And that just flew my soul straight back to my home ... a small home with a small room, a small bed and my beloved parents there who would always be there the moment I opened my eyes and let out my groaning and moaning. Then, I suddenly woke up again to the reality that I'm here, in this room, no one is here to answer me, no one will notice my voice is different. Oh no no no, I should not be unfair. Someone will notice but that does not make any difference to them. Oh, what should I expect more? If they ever notice I am sick, that is already very nice of them. They have spared a little bit of their time to hear my voice already ... what am I asking for? The world is not revolving around me! After all, I am just one person in the whole world. Why should anyone care about me at all? No no, you should not care about me at all. I will just bring trouble to your life. Just leave me alone, fly me home to the place where my parents are awaiting me. There's no other place I'd rather be than in that place. Just in this moment of your life, when you are sick, when no one cares for you, you will be missing your parents the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You! What do you want from me? You're asking me if I am feeling well? Oh ho ho! That is very nice of you but can you just zip your mouth and leave me alone? Why are you asking me? You have never ever cared about my existence then why should you care if I am sick? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? You want my grades? You want my work? You want me to be responsible for the myriad things that you can think of? But you never want my presence as a true person! Oh just shut up, all of you! You make me sick, you exhaust me, you erode my soul! I don't want you here. Don't look at me with that sympathetic look. I don't want that. Just go away. You never ever want me. Don't talk to me any more. Ironic as it may seem, the moment you talk to me, you just remind me that I am just a little, tiny, insignificant person in your life. So DON'T TALK TO ME! I know I am unimportant, insignificant,  a pebble in your pathway but you do not have to remind me of that. GO AWAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I despise words. Words cannot describe the way that I am feeling now. Worse, words distort my feelings. People who read my words usually misunderstand what I am made of. Oh ho ho just shut up pathetic, desperate little girl! Just because you do not know how to use words, just because your vocabulary is so poor, you do not have the right to blame words. Yes! It's true! I am just a lonely person.  The only two persons who can keep me alive until today are my parents. Without them, how am I going to survive? The world around me just makes me cry. They just want to exploit me. They will not stand by me. They just hop in and hop out of my life when they want, where they want. People say, when much is give, much is expected. Yes, I admit that I am given some gift and I am aware that I will have to give back to the society in the future. Yes, I want to be a care-giver. But my soul is now just like a drying-up river. It is losing its spirit. Why? Because care-giver also needs some care to be given to him or her as well. I'm tired of being alone and lonely. I'm tired of being strong because I am just not ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are men like? They are actually just good at breaking women's heart. 9 out of 10 men will be breaking women's heart. The last one will crush your heart into thousands of pieces. Yes! That's what they are. Haha! Wrong again, little person! You are just making a wrong generalisation based on your own agony. Men here have no fault. Actually, it is us, women who are responsible for our own agony. We hope for too much. We plunge into our one-sided romance in the attempt of finding the love that is as beautiful as those written in fictions. No no, girl, that is fiction. They are not real. Do not dream! Do not think  too highly of yourself that you think that you can make things happen. You are just a little, tiny person ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am the cause of my own agony. Nobody forces me to be desperate. Nobody forces me to be sad. Nobody forces me to cry. I cry. I am sad ... everything because of me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-1547004352623236603?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/1547004352623236603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=1547004352623236603&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1547004352623236603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/1547004352623236603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/sick.html' title='SICK'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-6746280104501398359</id><published>2007-04-03T07:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T07:20:27.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thankful</title><content type='html'>erh ... i'm very sick today. I slept the whold of yesterday night from 8 pm until 6.30 am this morning, feeling just a bit better. Then, I prepared myself for school. As I was walking down the steps to the canteen, I was just wishing for a bowl of porridge rather than any types of cake that they usually give for breakfast. And miracle happened. They provided porridge for today's breakfast. I smiled to myself. I just really wanted to say thank to the cook who had prepared this bowl of porridge for the day and I also wanted to thank some divine hand which has made this coincidence to happen. I guess I was lucky and I was blessed. A little bit of miracle had happened this morning to make my life a bit brighter. So I just want to pray a prayer for all the people who are sick now. I pray that the divine hand will do what He did for me this morning to all those who are sick, unwell and especially to those who are lonely. I am lucky enough to be surrounded with friends and those who will care for me when I'm not well. So I pray those who are sick and lonely will have someone sent into their lives to take care of them. I ask now for the mighty power to help those people because I'm certainly unable to do this. I'm a small and powerless person. I am thankful for everybody's help in my times of need and I ask for the almighty to use your healing power to help those who are much more in need than me. Help them find their ways please. You, the divine hand, who can make people want to sing, want to praise you ... so please help them be able to continue to sing and to seek joy everyday of their lives. When all are taken care of, I will be taken care of. Because of you, people find strength and hope to face any challenges and crises ... please continue to help them find this mental strength that they most need ... take care of them please ... i can take care of myself ... just please do not make those people who love you and trust in you well and strong ... and this is my prayer for today&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-6746280104501398359?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/6746280104501398359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=6746280104501398359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6746280104501398359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/6746280104501398359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/thankful_03.html' title='thankful'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-377491651705062279</id><published>2007-04-01T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T07:56:11.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh woman!</title><content type='html'>huh! I've just asked all the Vietnamese J1s to take one picture for the teacher mentor just now. My goodness! It was just because it's really really hard to find the time so that all of them will come down and take one picture so I asked them to come down at roll call. It was my fault actually not to tell all of them but just ask one of them to tell the rest ... so some of them were in a kind of a rush ... It was my fault ... ai ya! But then, just one photo, and they talked too much about where to take, how to pose, blah blah blah. They said it was shameful to take picture in front of other people who were going for roll call as well, so just take and then go, let me print the picture and that's it lah! Why mess around and talk too loudly to attract some more attention? One guy said just take and go lah. The other two just stand there and smile ... me ... hopeless ... i don't know what to do ... oh womaen! Can you please care less about your appearance? just one photo does not make a lot of difference. Just one photo so that the teacher knows who is who ... they will see you everyday in school anyway. They just need the photo as the first step. You will have plenty of chances to show your beauty and your liveliness instead of one dead pose ... ai ya ... women&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very sick today! When i woke up in the afternoon, I had a very very terrible headache. Use the piece of Salonpas to ease the pain ... not too bad ... a bit better now ... but my nose ... :(( ... then my throat :(((((. Taken paracetamol. It's so not good to be sick when all the work is coming up like a flood. I need a lifeguard now! Haha! Stupid me, breaking the mobile phone chain that my friend gave me already! Hixhix! It's my birthday present! Now my phone is chain-less again. Poor my phone which was unfortunate to belong to me! Hehe! but mobile phone, listen! though i may not treat you very well, i do love you, you know because you are MINE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-377491651705062279?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/377491651705062279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=377491651705062279&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/377491651705062279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/377491651705062279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/04/oh-woman.html' title='oh woman!'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2671390841059662597</id><published>2007-03-31T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T16:57:43.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday morning</title><content type='html'>*sign* It's now Sunday morning. I woke up early to wash my clothes or else, all the washing machines will never be available for my use. I am already sickening for something. My throat is sore. My jaw is tired. My limbs are weary. Whoa! These are the list of things that I have rushed myself to do last week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: went to support water polo match during PE lessons and then rushed back to attend the talk on "globalisation and global inequality" (oh yes, touching on this topic, i have something to say ... erh ... later lah)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: lifeguards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: economics society (though i went back early coz i was too tired) and then rehearsal for the musical at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: meeting with Ms Doreen Lim to apply to renew student's pass (so i skipped lifeguards)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday: NRP launch + rehearsal for musical&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: volunteered to be an usher in the Sports Education Programme + another rehearsal + the performance itself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm ... actually, on writing all these things down, I did not feel that these things are a lot leh but I'm really exhausted now. Mai still has to go for some ASEAN comm meeting. Whoa! If I were her, maybe I'll ask to skip lessons on Monday to compensate my weekend. Haha! Today, I still have to do quite a number of things. Oh gosh! I just want to stone or perhaps have a good conversation with somebody who understands me ... touching on this, I'm thinking about living alone again. I'm still quite confused about this. I'm only in JC now, and sometimes, I don't even have time for myself ... so if i live with somebody, I may just neglect that somebody --&gt; not good. But if i live alone, i will be lonely ... a bit scared ... hixhix. Ok, never mind. Have to finish some PI thing for project work and go to Jurong today to buy something and then, some more tutorials .... clean the room also ... aiya ... Next week, have to go for rehearsal for Friendship Day Concert ... Arg ... it's on Wednesday ... have to skip economics society again ... don't want to skip ... maybe i'll just be there then, ask for permission for next week only ... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2671390841059662597?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2671390841059662597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2671390841059662597&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2671390841059662597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2671390841059662597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/sunday-morning.html' title='Sunday morning'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-9040894111732028408</id><published>2007-03-31T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T08:49:40.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>magical words</title><content type='html'>I came back quite late on Friday night after the NRP launch. Then, i would have the rehearsal for the musical until much later. so, after i arrived at my room, i quickly took the voucher and came down to have dinner. I was sitting alone, focusing on my food. Then, she came to me. We only knew each other by name. We had never talked to each other before but we always waved at each other if we saw each other. she was actually sitting with her friends but she saw me sitting alone and she decided to bring her dinner over and sit with me ... an act of kindness and friendliness, i was thinking! Then, we started to talk a little bit. She just came here this year. She could not speak English very well. Her sentences were fragmented but it's ok ... i was like that before. Despite all her difficulties, she tried her best to express herself and with her smile, everything seemed to go along quite well. Then, she finished her dinner. I told her "you can go first if you want". And then, she let out the magical words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no, i wait for you. Today is Friday"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! Today is Friday and tomorrow is Saturday. Tomorrow i will have a break. i will have the break from the weekdays' routine, so why the weariness i have been carrying with me throughout the afternoon? Yes! Today is Friday, the end of another hectic, exhausting and sometimes frustrating week, so why still carry all the exhaustion and frustration? I have had no time to notice what day is today. BUT this girl has reminded me, today is Friday. There's no rush. I will have time for you. Today is Friday. If you do not have time for me, never mind, because this girl has had time for me. She has come to me because today is Friday. Today is Friday, and i want to go home. Today is Friday, and i want to sing. Today is Friday, and i want to thank the divine hand to have sent this messenger to my life to tell me that today is Friday ... the small little thing that makes your heart want to sing ... yes, today is Friday! Tomorrow is Saturday, the next day is Sunday, the next day is Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and then Friday will come again, and then, i will have time for you again. You don't have time for me again? Never mind because today is Friday ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-9040894111732028408?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/9040894111732028408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=9040894111732028408&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/9040894111732028408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/9040894111732028408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/magical-words.html' title='magical words'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-7464272437639505852</id><published>2007-03-31T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T08:29:34.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you</title><content type='html'>arg ... due to my super tight schedule, i only have time to update my blog today, after the musical. Gosh! I'm super duper tired and only want to jump onto my bed now but i do not want to pile up a lot of things that i need to say any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! it's you ... so you say you don't have time for me ... so i say i don't have time for somebody else ... so another somebody else might have said she did not have time for you ... BUT ... i say i have time for you ... you say you have time for somebody else ... and another somebody else say he/she has time for me ... why should i mess about it? I can spend the time that i want to spend with you with somebody else who are willing to spend their time with me ... but then, i still want to spend my time with you ... why should this mismatch go on and on and on and on? We are limited in our ways. We do not have time for everybody. We are not willing to spend time with everybody ... then why those "lucky few" whom we have chosen do not choose us? Oh, just shut up! you are just a passer-by in my life and i am just a passer-by in your life too. why should you care to give me your time and why should i care if you don't want to give me your time? ... but then, if we both care, perhaps ... perhaps ... perhaps ... we will not be just passer-bys ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! it's you ... so you are popular ... so everybody likes you ... so what? I should have known it well before. I'm picky, i'm fussy, i'm a perfectionist, i demand everything, everyone to be at a higher level. I'm not satisfied with things people are satisfied with. But then, i lay my eyes on you ... so i should have known better that everyone else will do the same because you are good, you are nice, you are who you are. What can i do? what can i say? competition? i'm competing? Hah! i'm not going to do that! I'm proud! If you are not going to keep me, i will let you go ... away ... away ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... then i let my chance go away ... perhaps i did not have a chance at all ... but i know i can create that chance if i want to ... i can create that chance to make you sit down ... but before i do that, i stand up ... my pride was hurt ... yes! it's you who hurt me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-7464272437639505852?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/7464272437639505852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=7464272437639505852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7464272437639505852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/7464272437639505852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/you.html' title='you'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-3263116943389282683</id><published>2007-03-27T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T05:12:49.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so many things I want to say</title><content type='html'>Arg ... there are so many things I want to say. Yesterday was a day when there were so many feelings ran high that I cannot really remember how many feeling I felt yesterday and I could not figure out how to start ... actually, I don't think I have the luxury to write my blog at this moment in time because I'm super duper busy but since the Chinese is using the bathroom, I have no other way but to go online and do this ... hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I had realized how introvert I am. Whoa! Sitting next to David, the extremely extrovert guy in my class, for only 2 tutorials, I felt very tired already. It was like all the energy I had accumulated during the weekend had suddenly disappeared just in those 2 tutorials ... 2 days of being introvert to gather energy were gone in just 2 tutorials ... oh my God! After that 2 tutorials, I really had to go to the bleaches to rejuvenate myself. I felt my heart beat fast just like I just ran several rounds around the track. How strange! Never knew it would be like this before ... never knew what kind of perso I have become. I was used to be very different from now ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A message to "you": I've thought I was good enough to be noticed, to stand out and that I was a bit more special than others ... but yesterday, I had painfully realized something. When you looked at me, you would just see an obscure face in the crowd ... nothing much ... just a face in a million of faces ... but from my view, I could always see you. I've just realized how it feels like to stand on the outside, looking in the inside and to yearn to be inside ... me ... just a face ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arg ... there are several more things but the Chinese has finished bathing ... so yah, will come back later ... haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-3263116943389282683?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/3263116943389282683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=3263116943389282683&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3263116943389282683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/3263116943389282683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/so-many-things-i-want-to-say.html' title='so many things I want to say'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4427052579990179807</id><published>2007-03-24T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T08:18:01.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Selena - Dreaming of you</title><content type='html'>I dream of that pure and unconditional love. I imagine how I will be accompanied throughout my whole life. I visualize how I will smile the day that you come up to me and then I smile. I live in my own fantasy, sometimes wake up to the reality just to go back to my dreams again. Never mind if fantasy is always fantasy. I will still keep the memory of you somewhere in my soul even when I have to move on. Just please do not break my heart when I'm still here. If you are not going to go with me, please stay with me until I go. I'm glad that I know you for this part of my life ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... For someone whom I'm thinking about right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Selena - Dreaming of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late at night when all the world is sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;I stay up and think of you.&lt;br /&gt;And I wish on a star, that somewhere you are.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Till tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight.&lt;br /&gt;And there's nowhere in the world, I'd rather be.&lt;br /&gt;Than here in my room, dreaming about you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder if you ever see me, and I.&lt;br /&gt;Wonder if you know I'm there. (am I there, am I?)&lt;br /&gt;If you looked in my eyes would you see what's inside?&lt;br /&gt;Would you even care?&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna hold you close but so far.&lt;br /&gt;All I have are dreams of you.&lt;br /&gt;So I wait for the day. (wait for the day)&lt;br /&gt;And the courage to say how much, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be dreaming of you tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Till tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight.&lt;br /&gt;And there's nowhere in the world, I'd rather be.&lt;br /&gt;Than here in my room dreaming about, you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Spanish):                                (Translation):&lt;br /&gt;Corazon.                                  Sweetheart.&lt;br /&gt;No puedo dejar de pensar en ti.           I can't stop thinking of you.&lt;br /&gt;Como te necesito.                         How I need you.&lt;br /&gt;Mi amor, como t'extrano.                  My love, how I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late at night when all the world is sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;I stay up and think of you.&lt;br /&gt;And I still can't believe.&lt;br /&gt;That you came up to me, and said "I love you.";&lt;br /&gt;"I love you too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm dreaming with you, tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Till tomorrow (till tomorrow).&lt;br /&gt;And for all of my life.&lt;br /&gt;And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be.&lt;br /&gt;than here in my room.&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming with you endlessly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4427052579990179807?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4427052579990179807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4427052579990179807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4427052579990179807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4427052579990179807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/selena-dreaming-of-you.html' title='Selena - Dreaming of you'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-4259667064668471345</id><published>2007-03-24T04:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:12:20.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'>buying things</title><content type='html'>Ah! Today, I went to Jurong to buy some stuffs. Just the normal stuffs like sandwiches ... but got to buy a new water bottle! Yay! I'm not very sure if this is already the third or the fourth bottle that I bought ... kept losing water bottles because of my annoying absent-mindedness :((. But this time, i'm really happy with the new bottle that i bought, especially after the little personalized decoration that I put on it Haha! Let you see it here ... i guess it's kinda cute ... feeling a bit emotionally attached to it already ... haha ... hope i will not lose it this time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RgUQ80QT88I/AAAAAAAAAA8/8W5pbUlq0js/s1600-h/P1000116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RgUQ80QT88I/AAAAAAAAAA8/8W5pbUlq0js/s400/P1000116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045457594543764418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yah! I saw the shoes!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been eyeing that pair of shoes for such a long long long time already. Have wanted to buy that pair for such a long long long time already ... but i know it's branded, adidas, so don't really dare to think about it lah. BUT, today, when i was walking around to find cheap water bottle in Jurong, I saw THE SHOES! The shoes are obviously not the original, branded one lah ... but they look the same, and after i examined them for some moment ... not very bad ... and the price is $9.9.... whoa! BUT the larger size they have is 37 --&gt; :(( oa, oa, oa, huhuhuhuhu, cry me a river, cry me a river, cry me a river, cry me a river .... my feet are bigger than 37 .............................................. never mind ... they are inferor goods .. not worth my attention ... anyway, i have saved that $9.9. It's good! It's good (still crying)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-4259667064668471345?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/4259667064668471345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=4259667064668471345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4259667064668471345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/4259667064668471345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/buying-things.html' title='buying things'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RgUQ80QT88I/AAAAAAAAAA8/8W5pbUlq0js/s72-c/P1000116.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960215768092647320.post-2975418470860165628</id><published>2007-03-23T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:12:20.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eventful</title><content type='html'>Whoa! Yesterday was an eventful day. Lectures were normal. Playing bridge during breaks was normal ... Hehe! But then, yesterday, I was once again lured to buy another economics textbook. There are 2 textbooks and I bought the more expensive one .... arg ... hixhix ... just received the allowance and I have begun to spend so much already. Oh no! But never mind. I should keep telling myself that this is a good investment. Yes! Buying economics textbook is a good investment. I'm going to study economics anyway. It is exciting. So why not buy the textbook? Uhmmm ... But I've already had 2 textbooks sitting on the shelf. Now, I still buy one more ... hixhix ... actually, the concept is still the same but what appealed most to me when I browsed through the text is all the application section ... I can't help it lah! OMG! Though I know there are textbooks in the library also ... but oh well, from a feeler's perspective like mine, buying makes me feel good though it may not make any economic sense! OMG! Then how I am gonna do economics ... ok ... never mind! :"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yes! Talking about the feeler's perpective, we had an MBTI workshop yesterday. So cool! Actually, I've already had some kind of personality workshop back in IJ but I always love to attend those workshops. It is great fun! Maria, Timothy and I had a good 2-hour laughing session. The trainer is super funny! Actually, at first, I did not have a very good impression of her when she was talking about the uniform and the girls in her secondary school ... was feeling it was quite inappropriate, especially when AC is a mixed school ... but all the funny things afterwards were just simply so funny! Haha! When I heard all about those characteristics, I just wanted to laugh at myself ... of course, what she described is a bit to the extreme and exaggerated but I am to the extreme anyway. Haha! According to the interpretation, I am the protector, a deeply passionate type. I want to save the world. Sometimes, I get a bit too emotional ... uhmm ... what else? Oh yah, there are very few things that I care about but if I care about something, I really care about it. Hehe! Quite true ... Nice workshop, I guess. But I just feel that 16 personality types are a lot to cover in 1 workshop. People get bored easily. Obviously, we cannot have 2 workshops. That will be silly because no one will attend the 2nd one. We cannot lump anything together to make the workshop shorter either ... ok, never mind, hehe, i guess that's the best that they can do already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OMG! I've got my timetable. And I just wanted to scream the moment I saw it. Oh gosh! It's so terrible lah! Mon, Thu --&gt; full day, cannot go home any earlier. Tue --&gt; just 20 mins early .. but i will have lifeguards on Tue and Thu anyway ... but still, it will be nicer to have a bit of break before starting CCA instead of exiting the lab and jumping into the swimming pool immediately! Arg ......... And i have physics everyday, EVERYDAY, ok? I should soon change my name to Han Bonkers ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045306471824487346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RgSHgUQT87I/AAAAAAAAAA0/i2Hp6fvz4iE/s400/P1000113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Will have to sell tickets for the residence's musical. Quite fun writing the advertisement on the class's blog though I know few will be interested. Never mind. I try to do my best&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5960215768092647320-2975418470860165628?l=thepageinpencil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/feeds/2975418470860165628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5960215768092647320&amp;postID=2975418470860165628&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2975418470860165628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5960215768092647320/posts/default/2975418470860165628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepageinpencil.blogspot.com/2007/03/eventful.html' title='Eventful'/><author><name>-For the Pencil-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08977920600885806486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXgw7Z0unA8/RgSHgUQT87I/AAAAAAAAAA0/i2Hp6fvz4iE/s72-c/P1000113.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
