<?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-8906084051144919006</id><updated>2012-02-17T12:29:39.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Lil' Cubicle</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-5900294744386189264</id><published>2009-06-18T01:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T01:02:04.154+08:00</updated><title type='text'>She likes me Yes?</title><content type='html'>She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me &lt;br /&gt;Shes likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me &lt;br /&gt;Shes likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes me&lt;br /&gt;She likes me not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-5900294744386189264?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/5900294744386189264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=5900294744386189264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5900294744386189264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5900294744386189264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/06/she-likes-me-yes.html' title='She likes me Yes?'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-4455633430025188578</id><published>2009-05-07T09:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T09:37:09.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Moving</title><content type='html'>Going back to the corner,&lt;br /&gt;where I first saw you&lt;br /&gt;Gonna camp in my sleeping bag,&lt;br /&gt;I’m not gonna move&lt;br /&gt;Got some words on cardboard&lt;br /&gt;Got your picture in my hand&lt;br /&gt;Saying if you see this girl can you tell her were I am&lt;br /&gt;Some try to hand me money&lt;br /&gt;They don’t understand,&lt;br /&gt;I’m not broke I’m just a broken hearted man&lt;br /&gt;I know it makes no sense&lt;br /&gt;What else can i do?&lt;br /&gt;How can I move on&lt;br /&gt;When I’m still in love with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman says Son you cant stay here&lt;br /&gt;I say there’s someone I’m waiting for if its a day, a month, a year,&lt;br /&gt;Gotta stand my ground,&lt;br /&gt;even if it rains or snows,&lt;br /&gt;If she changes her mind,&lt;br /&gt;this is the first place she will go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People talk about the guy,&lt;br /&gt;Who's waiting in on a girl&lt;br /&gt;There are no holes in his shoes,&lt;br /&gt;But a big hole in his world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’ll get famous as the man who can’t be moved,&lt;br /&gt;and maybe you wont mean to but you’ll see me on the news,&lt;br /&gt;and you’d come running to the corner,&lt;br /&gt;Cause’ you’ll know its just for you&lt;br /&gt;I’m the man who cant be moved&lt;br /&gt;I’m the man who cant be moved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause’ if one day you wake up,&lt;br /&gt;and find that you're missing me,&lt;br /&gt;and your heart starts to wonder&lt;br /&gt;where on this earth I could be,&lt;br /&gt;Thinking maybe you’d come back here&lt;br /&gt;to the place that we’d meet&lt;br /&gt;and you’d see me waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;on the corner of the street&lt;br /&gt;so I’m not moving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the corner where I first saw you,&lt;br /&gt;Gonna camp in my sleeping bag and I’m not gonna move&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-4455633430025188578?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/4455633430025188578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=4455633430025188578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4455633430025188578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4455633430025188578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-not-moving.html' title='I&apos;m Not Moving'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7979267742037088746</id><published>2009-04-26T11:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T12:04:28.492+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r419olZeugU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r419olZeugU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply Breathtaking&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7979267742037088746?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7979267742037088746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7979267742037088746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7979267742037088746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7979267742037088746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/04/real.html' title='Real'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-737238381156390772</id><published>2009-04-15T19:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T13:22:03.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SebAdSPdpCI/AAAAAAAAARE/3nNdMV2_WSM/s1600-h/P1010858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SebAdSPdpCI/AAAAAAAAARE/3nNdMV2_WSM/s320/P1010858.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325155218757624866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were down, and i was doing my best to be a part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"aaron, you will be there for me right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"why ask? what's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"just answer me, you will be there for me right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i will try to be"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-737238381156390772?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/737238381156390772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=737238381156390772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/737238381156390772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/737238381156390772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/04/still.html' title='Still'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SebAdSPdpCI/AAAAAAAAARE/3nNdMV2_WSM/s72-c/P1010858.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-3241456389693655020</id><published>2009-03-17T12:33:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T13:26:22.722+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all too familiar</title><content type='html'>The lyrics, they keep alive my praises for you; &lt;br /&gt;And Rachel Greene, she portraits for me the most loving thou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just sad not knowing the reason why everything suddenly unraveled;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not as depressing as how incapable i have become, to make the move again on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An irony it is, trying to put myself to sleep every night,&lt;br /&gt;For how restless it leaves me the moment i close my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were wondering if my feelings for you would last even for a while,&lt;br /&gt;But if only it was just a harmless crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayers help you make peace with everything, Christians believe so,&lt;br /&gt;But i wouldn't pray for myself to make peace with not having you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To imagine the days ahead without having you,&lt;br /&gt;Would be just as hard for me to picture, the days ahead to be blessed with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-3241456389693655020?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/3241456389693655020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=3241456389693655020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3241456389693655020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3241456389693655020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-all-too-familiar.html' title='It&apos;s all too familiar'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-8972209876607801148</id><published>2009-03-11T19:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T19:32:27.589+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pride</title><content type='html'>"Aaron, where is your pride?" &lt;br /&gt;                             &lt;br /&gt;                             "you sounded like a person who isn't good at anything."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-8972209876607801148?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/8972209876607801148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=8972209876607801148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8972209876607801148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8972209876607801148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/03/pride.html' title='Pride'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-9185363429645106229</id><published>2009-03-04T10:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T10:42:55.604+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ain't Got You</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TDoWMc3bYjA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TDoWMc3bYjA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: First Impression?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer: It was this beautiful girl... and i just, i didn't know her name...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-9185363429645106229?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/9185363429645106229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=9185363429645106229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/9185363429645106229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/9185363429645106229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2009/03/aint-got-you.html' title='Ain&apos;t Got You'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-1995824431356298107</id><published>2008-11-12T07:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T08:27:37.167+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vulnerability</title><content type='html'>Vulnerability defines both in a good and bad manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the times when nothing falls short in life, you would still find it tough to look up for that word in your so marvelous pool of vocabulary. It definitely brings ideology into oneself, and blinds him from edging towards the path initially paved in mind. Indulgence in the feeling of being held in comfort and satisfaction may at times instill in oneself the belief of having every little detail of life in control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yea, i was fooled..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vulnerability exposes oneself to the realisation of his in-capabilities, and drives him into submission, the only sensible option left when everything else no longer makes any sense. It points to the Man-in-charge, suggesting that His embrace stands as the ultimate haven for the sick and hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yea, i'm knocking on the door, to my own recovery...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1995824431356298107?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1995824431356298107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1995824431356298107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1995824431356298107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1995824431356298107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/11/vulnerability.html' title='Vulnerability'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7899695731539071101</id><published>2008-11-04T23:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T23:04:21.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>End of Pursuit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SRBjrvQc8GI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YoCoQWalqOQ/s1600-h/134958_33_preview.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 195px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SRBjrvQc8GI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YoCoQWalqOQ/s320/134958_33_preview.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264817567467106402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Real end Ronaldo pursuit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real Madrid have claimed they are no longer interested in signing Manchester United starlet Cristiano Ronaldo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the attention appeared to unsettle Ronaldo and it prompted United manager Sir Alex Ferguson to claim Real "have no moral issues at all".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is forgotten, not only for January but forever," said Real president Ramon Calderon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We would only talk about it if Manchester decide they want to sell him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But the matter is over. We talked about it last season. Manchester decided not to sell the player and we don't want to do anything against a club like Manchester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The player decided to stay in Manchester and we accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Madrid is not doing anything to disturb a 'friend club' like Manchester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are two very big clubs. We want to be good friends forever. We are in the same market. I have a lot of respect for Manchester. I have a good relationship with David Gill and I want it to be like that for a long time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7899695731539071101?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7899695731539071101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7899695731539071101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7899695731539071101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7899695731539071101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/11/end-of-pursuit.html' title='End of Pursuit'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SRBjrvQc8GI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YoCoQWalqOQ/s72-c/134958_33_preview.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-2218663422248069922</id><published>2008-11-03T14:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:42:33.771+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG</title><content type='html'>I AM FINISH"ED"!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2218663422248069922?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2218663422248069922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2218663422248069922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2218663422248069922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2218663422248069922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/11/omg.html' title='OMG'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-758511269091261132</id><published>2008-10-21T00:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T00:21:57.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Se7en</title><content type='html'>Come Back To Me (part 1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bPldMrMW08E&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;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/bPldMrMW08E&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come Back To Me (part 2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7CY0WB9VB1I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;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/7CY0WB9VB1I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad yet Soothing..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-758511269091261132?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/758511269091261132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=758511269091261132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/758511269091261132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/758511269091261132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/10/se7en.html' title='Se7en'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-2596070465700576142</id><published>2008-09-29T09:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T10:04:58.692+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're No Man!</title><content type='html'>He tumbles,&lt;br /&gt;but he refuses to get up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bystanders offer a help,&lt;br /&gt;but he turns them all down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a careless slip,&lt;br /&gt;and yet he fails to reason and get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His ankle aches and knee bleeds,&lt;br /&gt;and that they will ease away soon, is all that he pleads.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2596070465700576142?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2596070465700576142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2596070465700576142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2596070465700576142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2596070465700576142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/09/youre-no-man.html' title='You&apos;re No Man!'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-5320946980322348313</id><published>2008-09-17T17:42:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T09:49:05.037+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It all started hot and furious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;Nothing else was needed for it to be anymore delirious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;I got the message.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;My mind went into a total rampage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;Roughly the first line that u said to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;Was how much more hurry could I possibly be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;It brought into the people a pandemonium.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Not the right time, considering we were living in a world without the knowledge of a valium.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jealousy infiltrated and rumors were spread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But feelings and hopes had never been dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;Endless nights brought with them endless anticipations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Only a simple goodnight could keep us away from sleep deprivation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Waking up in the next morning just to hear you say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;That my buzz had yet again, made your day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Taking things up a notch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Was like handing over a boy a bottle of scotch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Curiosity and anxiety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Were the culprits for the loss of my lips' virginity....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Egoism has always been a guy's thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It is just a matter of when it is finally showing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And you were unaware of the fact that you held the key.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;To unleashing possibly my greatest E.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Just when things could never get anymore of a bliss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;My heart fumbled and started to leave u with no ease.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You said I was the one you could never live without.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But all you got was having left bleeding in gouts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Every attempt of bringing the pieces back into one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Would be shattered as though their values were none.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For I knew you would always be there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I never doubted if you were still within hail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Undeniable that I relished in every game that rolled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In almost all of which I made the call.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And for every resumption that you made.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Came without any redemption to be paid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I brought love into your world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A flavor I hope your memory will forever hold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I forced scars and stitches on your already fragile soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"You have trained me well" was the only words you said without even a yowl....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;Few reasons could underlie an unlikely reminiscence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This one comes with remorse as its very essence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Never had I fully grasped the appreciation for being loved without a reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And for that I am losing my entitlement to loving another person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Further apologies may no longer need to be made in a hurry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But I have every reason in the world to say, &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;I'm sorry&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: rightfont-family:georgia;" align="right" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Aaron&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: rightfont-family:georgia;" align="right" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Judy&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/8906084051144919006-5320946980322348313?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/5320946980322348313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=5320946980322348313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5320946980322348313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5320946980322348313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m Sorry'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-2790124958070203355</id><published>2008-08-29T08:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T09:06:56.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>x(</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-72a9cf5f4c7cade" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D072a9cf5f4c7cade%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331603625%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D86358B41031EAEEBC9A49F91C2D1BD550158B4F6.7F4F9F6C76C1F62920B553BA71A170E72A35F4AB%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D72a9cf5f4c7cade%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dr8yJ-arVPf0A4BO5xfyunV0Kq_c&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D072a9cf5f4c7cade%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331603625%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D86358B41031EAEEBC9A49F91C2D1BD550158B4F6.7F4F9F6C76C1F62920B553BA71A170E72A35F4AB%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D72a9cf5f4c7cade%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dr8yJ-arVPf0A4BO5xfyunV0Kq_c&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2790124958070203355?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=72a9cf5f4c7cade&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2790124958070203355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2790124958070203355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2790124958070203355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2790124958070203355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/08/x.html' title='x('/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-5364220629319231509</id><published>2008-08-27T20:04:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T18:30:05.549+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Behind The Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SRgM3u5EheI/AAAAAAAAAL8/wXu7XWT6SMU/s1600-h/P1010858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SRgM3u5EheI/AAAAAAAAAL8/wXu7XWT6SMU/s320/P1010858.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266973915829536226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Feeling&lt;/span&gt; blue when I'm out of a clue,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; For&lt;/span&gt; every mystery, it's always a misery,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Her &lt;/span&gt;smiles burn, a fact not to be overturned,&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Alone&lt;/span&gt; in the dimmed, everytime when there's another him,&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Is&lt;/span&gt; there a silver lining, behind all these incessant crazing?&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In &lt;/span&gt;ecstasy, whenever he's in his fantasy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                  Itself&lt;/span&gt;,  is to where all the stories are kept,&lt;br /&gt;               &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  A&lt;/span&gt; guy who sinks for a gal who winks,&lt;br /&gt;                 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;   Blessing&lt;/span&gt;, it is gonna be one, when nothing else is missing....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-5364220629319231509?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/5364220629319231509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=5364220629319231509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5364220629319231509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5364220629319231509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/08/behind-story.html' title='Behind The Story'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SRgM3u5EheI/AAAAAAAAAL8/wXu7XWT6SMU/s72-c/P1010858.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-1147481467577897919</id><published>2008-08-20T19:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T19:37:21.868+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wanna Be</title><content type='html'>Imagine if the pillow that you cried on was my chest&lt;br /&gt;And the tissue that you wiped your face with was my hand&lt;br /&gt;Girl, imagine if you needed advice about some other guy, I'm the one that comes to mind&lt;br /&gt;Not try'na hear you tell nobody that I'm just a friend&lt;br /&gt;Just try'na make sure I'm that body that you call your man&lt;br /&gt;And anytime you need a shoulder, it's yours night or day&lt;br /&gt;Well, what I'm try'na say is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, the last number you call late at night&lt;br /&gt;Said I wanna be, the first one that you dial when you open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be the one you run to, wanna be the one that ain't gon' hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be the man making your girls jealous&lt;br /&gt;Be the guy shutting down all the fellas&lt;br /&gt;Whatever you need, girl it's all on me&lt;br /&gt;Your soldier, your friend or your lover &lt;br /&gt;Girl, I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it be cool, would you mind if I called you my boo,&lt;br /&gt;What if the next whip you was pushing was the one I bought for you&lt;br /&gt;Can I be the one that meets your Pops and take your mama shopping&lt;br /&gt;Be the only one they like, have you thought about it, Really thought about it&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you should take some time, call your girls and talk about it&lt;br /&gt;Cause I done already made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;Don't need no more time to know if I wanna be with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, the last number you call late at night&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, the first one that you dial when you open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be the one you run to, wanna be the one that ain't gon' hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be the man making your girls jealous&lt;br /&gt;Be the guy shutting down all the fellas&lt;br /&gt;Whatever you need, girl it's all on me&lt;br /&gt;Your soldier, your friend or your lover&lt;br /&gt;Girl, I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put me on your screensaver, all over your Myspace and&lt;br /&gt;Make me one of your five favorites, that's where I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;The one you crying for, staying up all night fighting for&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be your good, bad, love, hey, Girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cross my heart, hope to die, on everything that's good&lt;br /&gt;I'ma do you right, show you right, Get this understood&lt;br /&gt;Cross my heart, hope to die, on everything that's good&lt;br /&gt;I'ma do you right, show you right, Get this understood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, the last number that you call late at night&lt;br /&gt;first one that you dial when you open your eyes &lt;br /&gt;Wanna be the one you run to&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be the one that ain't gon hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be the man making your girls jealous&lt;br /&gt;Be the guy shutting down all the fellas&lt;br /&gt;Whatever you need,&lt;br /&gt;Girl, it's all on me&lt;br /&gt;Your soldier, your friend or your lover&lt;br /&gt;Girl, I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl, I wanna be,&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be,&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1147481467577897919?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1147481467577897919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1147481467577897919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1147481467577897919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1147481467577897919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-wanna-be.html' title='I Wanna Be'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-2406297753692518168</id><published>2008-08-12T22:40:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:45:51.939+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Man and Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SKGhiSz5uPI/AAAAAAAAAKw/zAQLsXmVJes/s1600-h/P1010182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SKGhiSz5uPI/AAAAAAAAAKw/zAQLsXmVJes/s320/P1010182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233641852518381810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One who wishes not to look old,&lt;br /&gt;One whom we all wish would not grow..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man to whom all my respect goes,&lt;br /&gt;Child to whose brother means the most..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muffled, the footprint and mini mountain may soon be,&lt;br /&gt;Unruffled, the moment forever will be..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2406297753692518168?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2406297753692518168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2406297753692518168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2406297753692518168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2406297753692518168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/08/man-and-child.html' title='Man and Child'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SKGhiSz5uPI/AAAAAAAAAKw/zAQLsXmVJes/s72-c/P1010182.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-8021306485705068172</id><published>2008-06-20T21:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T21:49:38.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 to 21</title><content type='html'>It's gonna end soon and so as the aura of my soul. Staying up late and cramming and getting an hour's sleep between long intervals are absolutely soul-destroying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a break...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-8021306485705068172?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/8021306485705068172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=8021306485705068172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8021306485705068172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8021306485705068172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/06/20-to-21.html' title='20 to 21'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-3759336147039511841</id><published>2008-06-17T00:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T00:30:39.728+08:00</updated><title type='text'>GodamnIT!</title><content type='html'>Goodness!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've just somehow unintentionally halved the hours of sleep I need for a day. Yesterday I woke up at 11 after a quick nap from 7. And that was it for the day. Surprisingly, I've been good as new the entire day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its 2.20 now, I'm all awake, fresh and ready to go.. but wait! I only slept at 12. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLOODY HELL!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-3759336147039511841?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/3759336147039511841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=3759336147039511841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3759336147039511841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3759336147039511841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/06/godamnit.html' title='GodamnIT!'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-2796343385836430432</id><published>2008-06-14T15:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T15:30:17.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Make Your Head Useful</title><content type='html'>At times when inspiration surges in you because of the things you witness or simply for you have nothing else for your time to spend on but aimless daydreaming, you could come out with all sorts of philosophies and ways of perceiving of your own based on differing perspectives you have towards the things revolving around you. I wish I had jotted down every single one of them everywhere I go but I'm the kind of person who refuses to carry an umbrella even when it's pouring relentlessly out there, so how do I expect myself to be carrying a notebook or even a piece of paper along with me all the time? It's a fuss and it only makes you look uncool, and that doesn't accurately portray me as a person at all. =)  So let's start with this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still green in my memory since this happened just yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bus Drivers will never cease to amuse you with their maneuvering. Its all a matter of a split second, they either make it through the inches-wide gap left on the traffic, or die being sandwiched, literally, as in contact is involved, in the middle of a congestion. Somehow they get away with almost all sorts of difficult circumstances laid in front of them, and you started to think if they are just a bunch of naturals.  But there can only be one Hamilton at a time right? So succumb to your destined fate, mates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-BITCHES could well be one of the most gorgeous things the world has to offer. Hour glass shaped figure and enticing behavior are just the beginning. They are born with the instinct to seduce so there's no question why my Bobby gets turned on for no reasons. (Get it??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-You were really fond of a gal and after ages of secret admiration and nights of endless fantasies, you've finally decided to unleash your long-festered feelings by confessing to her. &lt;br /&gt; You walked up: "Hi... erm.. I like you a lot and I think you look incredible...."&lt;br /&gt; The gal      : "Me too"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were over the moon for a few sec until you realized she was busy checking herself away in the mirror. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cant think of more right now. But I assure you, there are definitely more to come. Stay cool~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2796343385836430432?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2796343385836430432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2796343385836430432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2796343385836430432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2796343385836430432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/06/make-your-head-useful.html' title='Make Your Head Useful'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-1469378700987931712</id><published>2008-06-11T03:55:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T04:38:39.634+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winning Formula</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;DISCOVERY OF THE CENTURY!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come out with a marvelous means of helping you staying up all night without feeling like going to bed (unless you're physically worn out). Neither caffeine nor drugs are part of the composition of this very formula and yet it could trigger just as disastrous eventualities like  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7ixg8HUxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/joR2KBQ3YKQ/s1600-h/mess.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7ixg8HUxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/joR2KBQ3YKQ/s320/mess.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210351159197782802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND THIS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7iyBdbC2I/AAAAAAAAAKo/DLVmgekuBLA/s1600-h/rubbish.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7iyBdbC2I/AAAAAAAAAKo/DLVmgekuBLA/s320/rubbish.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210351167927421794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what exactly is this Wonderous Discovery???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; WAit for it.....WAit for it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SAY WAIT FOR IT!!!!..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, here it is,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TA~DA~!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7hnjw1n4I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/dP6EbB79C4c/s1600-h/bed.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7hnjw1n4I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/dP6EbB79C4c/s320/bed.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210349888645472130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a huge mess on your bed until it doesn't even have room for your fat arse to sit on!!! Trust me, just by looking at this masterpiece will spur you all the way up to the next day... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=) Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1469378700987931712?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1469378700987931712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1469378700987931712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1469378700987931712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1469378700987931712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/06/winning-formula.html' title='The Winning Formula'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SE7ixg8HUxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/joR2KBQ3YKQ/s72-c/mess.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-1642123715749311068</id><published>2008-06-05T02:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T02:36:09.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4.34</title><content type='html'>Damn! It's 4.34. Should I go sleep or just continue working for another 3 hours or so until it is time for uni again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1642123715749311068?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1642123715749311068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1642123715749311068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1642123715749311068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1642123715749311068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/06/434.html' title='4.34'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-4693900154129375945</id><published>2008-06-03T20:39:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T20:43:29.902+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finals Approaching!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU7kVVxu6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/Ie2v0HNqb9k/s1600-h/P1010837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU7kVVxu6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/Ie2v0HNqb9k/s320/P1010837.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207634039513660322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU7wlVxu7I/AAAAAAAAAJI/75S6Wo9vCnQ/s1600-h/P1010839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU7wlVxu7I/AAAAAAAAAJI/75S6Wo9vCnQ/s320/P1010839.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207634249967057842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Isn't That Bad Compared to Last Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU73VVxu8I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/HrnlpqBkfhU/s1600-h/P1010838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU73VVxu8I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/HrnlpqBkfhU/s320/P1010838.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207634365931174850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting Up All Night Gives Me Backache &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Want My Life Back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-4693900154129375945?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/4693900154129375945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=4693900154129375945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4693900154129375945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4693900154129375945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/06/finals-approaching.html' title='Finals Approaching!!'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SEU7kVVxu6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/Ie2v0HNqb9k/s72-c/P1010837.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-7252537633157422563</id><published>2008-05-25T12:39:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T12:49:31.789+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back To Square One</title><content type='html'>Slept really late last night due to the stupid acct assignment. And therefore, I could only drag myself out of my comfy bed at 1. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I had a dream moments before I woke up I reckon, since the pictures are still vivid in my memory. And that was probably what left me intoxicated in my sleep. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bingo!! MJ was the theme for my dream, yet again. Except this time, it was one that I'd die for it to come true. I dreamed about the two of us strolling along in the less crowded city, enjoying the soothing night view (ironic since it was in the city) as well as each other's company. As usual, I tried to be chill so it all started when she began a line which brought us through the entire night. =D I can't really remember what the conversation was about, but all I can tell is, she looked stunning as ever in there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could have gone all the way, but somewhere deep down me kept sending 'May-day' signals to my nervous system, constantly reminding me that I was running out of time with regards to the blasted &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Perdisco&lt;/span&gt; assignment. DAMN IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, a dream is a dream, and it may not carry any significance. But at the very least, it does carry a particular implication does it not??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......( Just Updated )......But whether it carries any implication or whether it was just me being pathetic again no longer matters anymore. Readers, I will not break my words no more..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7252537633157422563?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7252537633157422563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7252537633157422563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7252537633157422563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7252537633157422563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/back-to-square-one.html' title='Back To Square One'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-8149854985964758123</id><published>2008-05-22T20:06:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T13:43:32.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belated 19</title><content type='html'>Something to cheer myself up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVigXgLd2I/AAAAAAAAAIE/dDXc8N35Ti4/s1600-h/all.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVigXgLd2I/AAAAAAAAAIE/dDXc8N35Ti4/s320/all.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203173252700796770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Singing the B'day song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVizXgLd4I/AAAAAAAAAIU/g3VkuRMdj6E/s1600-h/cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVizXgLd4I/AAAAAAAAAIU/g3VkuRMdj6E/s320/cake.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203173579118311298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Made from scratch by dearest Natalie (Impressed indeed since she doesn't even know how to use the rice cooker).... (ohh ohh! That's not my hand. I've got much prettier looking fingers than that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVi3HgLd5I/AAAAAAAAAIc/yaU0SMgJslM/s1600-h/more+cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVi3HgLd5I/AAAAAAAAAIc/yaU0SMgJslM/s320/more+cake.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203173643542820754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; More cake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDViuXgLd3I/AAAAAAAAAIM/-woYFTlZydk/s1600-h/another+cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDViuXgLd3I/AAAAAAAAAIM/-woYFTlZydk/s320/another+cake.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203173493218965362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and more... (from Kelly....if you think it was handmade, you're being ridiculous)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVi7HgLd6I/AAAAAAAAAIk/dMqegzXf90g/s1600-h/speaker.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVi7HgLd6I/AAAAAAAAAIk/dMqegzXf90g/s320/speaker.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203173712262297506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I JUST LOVE THE SPEAKERS!! THANKS HEAPS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVi-ngLd7I/AAAAAAAAAIs/mRasRmBgLDU/s1600-h/wii-ing.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVi-ngLd7I/AAAAAAAAAIs/mRasRmBgLDU/s320/wii-ing.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203173772391839666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Luckily we'd got Wii to keep them engaged throughout the celebration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are still heaps of them but I don't feel like showing them all.. xp And I'm sure Kelly will be disappointed to have left out her pics but what the heck, it is MY blog you're reading.. xp  Nah, I don't really look good in those pics so 'for the record' ;) these shall be enough to feast your eyes for now.. I'm being narcissistic again I know.. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it certainly is one celebration to remember. Thanks so much for those who showed up and made my day. Couldn't have been any fun without any of you. Luv ya all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-8149854985964758123?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/8149854985964758123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=8149854985964758123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8149854985964758123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8149854985964758123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/belated-19.html' title='Belated 19'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVigXgLd2I/AAAAAAAAAIE/dDXc8N35Ti4/s72-c/all.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-1607078289529713606</id><published>2008-05-22T17:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T17:48:59.825+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Agonizing</title><content type='html'>How have I been doing, you could be wondering?&lt;br /&gt;This sums everything up:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVAN3gLd1I/AAAAAAAAAH8/GISugeSSQXw/s1600-h/terry-500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVAN3gLd1I/AAAAAAAAAH8/GISugeSSQXw/s320/terry-500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203135551477872466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days have been going downhill, and heartbreaks just come one after another. Sometimes justice just doesn't descend. Hard work throughout the entire process will eventually go down the drain. I'm seriously losing faith, in almost everything, and myself especially.. FUCK!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1607078289529713606?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1607078289529713606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1607078289529713606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1607078289529713606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1607078289529713606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/agonizing.html' title='Agonizing'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SDVAN3gLd1I/AAAAAAAAAH8/GISugeSSQXw/s72-c/terry-500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-4646782877394417918</id><published>2008-05-14T12:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T13:32:36.905+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You And I Both</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Was it you who spoke the words &lt;br /&gt;that things would happen but not to me&lt;br /&gt;Oh things are gonna happen naturally&lt;br /&gt;Oh taking your advice I'm looking on the bright side&lt;br /&gt;And balancing the whole thing&lt;br /&gt;But often times those words get tangled up in lines&lt;br /&gt;And the bright lights turn to night&lt;br /&gt;Until the dawn it brings&lt;br /&gt;Another day to sing about the magic that was you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you and I both loved&lt;br /&gt;What you and I spoke of&lt;br /&gt;And others just read of&lt;br /&gt;Others only read of the love, the love that I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I'm all about them words&lt;br /&gt;Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words&lt;br /&gt;Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards&lt;br /&gt;More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and I, you and I&lt;br /&gt;Not so little you and I anymore&lt;br /&gt;And with this silence brings a moral story&lt;br /&gt;More importantly evolving is the glory of a boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you and I both loved&lt;br /&gt;What you and I spoke of&lt;br /&gt;And others just dream of&lt;br /&gt;And if you could see me now&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm almost finally out of&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally out of&lt;br /&gt;Finally deedeedeedee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm almost finally, finally&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm free, oh, I'm free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's okay if you have to go away&lt;br /&gt;Oh just remember the telephone only work in the both ways&lt;br /&gt;And if I never ever hear them ring&lt;br /&gt;If nothing else I'll think the bells inside&lt;br /&gt;Have finally found you someone else and that's okay&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'll remember everything you sang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of&lt;br /&gt;and others just read of and if you could see now&lt;br /&gt;well I'm almost finally out of.&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally out of, finally, deedeeededede&lt;br /&gt;well I'm almost finally, finally, finally out of words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-4646782877394417918?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/4646782877394417918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=4646782877394417918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4646782877394417918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4646782877394417918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-and-i-both.html' title='You And I Both'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7097634012015845342</id><published>2008-05-13T00:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T00:01:34.405+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen To The Impersonation</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yc5lhChg9m8&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yc5lhChg9m8&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7097634012015845342?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7097634012015845342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7097634012015845342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7097634012015845342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7097634012015845342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/listen-to-impersonation.html' title='Listen To The Impersonation'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-82707724289223711</id><published>2008-05-06T18:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T18:09:56.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Wouldn't Go Green??</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZO7nv5nHy1Q&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZO7nv5nHy1Q&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch this mutedly, and you'll laugh your arse off.. XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-82707724289223711?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/82707724289223711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=82707724289223711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/82707724289223711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/82707724289223711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/who-wouldnt-go-green.html' title='Who Wouldn&apos;t Go Green??'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-3858845830108155011</id><published>2008-05-05T17:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T16:34:25.989+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Blasted Portugese</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kqeXXHjJq24&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kqeXXHjJq24&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&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/8906084051144919006-3858845830108155011?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/3858845830108155011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=3858845830108155011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3858845830108155011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3858845830108155011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/holy-crap-im-going-down-too.html' title='Another Blasted Portugese'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-8419083468277117208</id><published>2008-05-01T13:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T13:23:16.721+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long-awaited Final</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Udl3YcY8FSg&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Udl3YcY8FSg&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moscow, Here We Come!!!&lt;br /&gt;BOoo~YAH!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-8419083468277117208?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/8419083468277117208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=8419083468277117208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8419083468277117208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8419083468277117208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/05/long-awaited-final.html' title='Long-awaited Final'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-369786218736361162</id><published>2008-04-28T17:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T23:11:24.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aero-DYNAMO~</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mc-LH37O_zk&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mc-LH37O_zk&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL!!! Look at the Mandarin scoreboard on the bottom left. It actually writes 2-0 !!! Well, afterall, Riise scored~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways&lt;br /&gt;A luck well deserved~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-369786218736361162?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/369786218736361162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=369786218736361162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/369786218736361162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/369786218736361162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/aero-dynamo_28.html' title='Aero-DYNAMO~'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-5832674766652372615</id><published>2008-04-27T22:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T23:17:36.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumb Arse</title><content type='html'>Stop whining you pathetic jerk!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uni is no longer a place like high school where you're well spoon-fed enough to be able to ace through every exam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop complaining about everything that actually derived from yourself. You are just too incapable to handle financial maths with enough flexibility. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is life, and it's never been and will never be a bed of roses. You won't get scenarios in which you're to deal with that are of exactly the same characteristics as those simplified in your textbooks, you idiot! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up! Read some papers. Do some researches. Watch daily news on Tv. Have extra practice on the subject to further anchoring and knowledge-span widening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Well~ I forgot. You have a life, haven't ya? And your forte is time-wasting. Meeting all these expectations is definitely out of the question. Fuck! Just how long will I have to wait for you to mature????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-5832674766652372615?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/5832674766652372615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=5832674766652372615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5832674766652372615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5832674766652372615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/dumb-arse.html' title='Dumb Arse'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-3463500123322938212</id><published>2008-04-26T17:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T20:54:23.628+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything was just WTF!</title><content type='html'>This post may contain coarse language. Readers' Discretion is Advised!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a bloody crappy qma paper today. It was bloody undoable. I got bloody freaked out reading the paper half way through. And once I realized that they were just as bloody tough as they bloody looked, I started to bloody panic, until I couldnt even get my bloody brain working on the bloody simplest equation in the way I normally do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not like I didn't fucking study and practise on the fucking subject. It was because those fucking questions were not fucking covered in the fucking scope of our fucking subject. Its like you've just finished fucking learning A, B, and C. And they fucking test you until fucking X, Y, Z. I know I'm fucking fucked up right now, but I have my fucking reasons ok. 20% of the finals are fucking gone. FUCK!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went for indoor soccer to de-stress just now. I saw MJ there and I knew it was nothing to get excited about. She's high up on the top and I'm just as pathetic as ever. Khin showed me some pictures of hers in facebook before I left uni today. And they shed lights upon my fucking pathetic-ness. She's attached, yea, another hope gone for good. First Natalie, and now MJ. Goodness, I'm seriously giving it to karma man. I'm fucked!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds ironic but&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please forgive me to have written all these fucking rotten words. There I go~ I've done it again~ I'm just too fucked up to stay within your range of obedience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-3463500123322938212?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/3463500123322938212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=3463500123322938212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3463500123322938212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3463500123322938212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/everything-was-just-wtf.html' title='Everything was just WTF!'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-1225141220508062583</id><published>2008-04-23T22:06:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T22:11:19.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9Cv_c2HAI/AAAAAAAAAHk/X7EStDV8du4/s1600-h/B%26T4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9Cv_c2HAI/AAAAAAAAAHk/X7EStDV8du4/s320/B%26T4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192442287635176450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9CrPc2G_I/AAAAAAAAAHc/K7s2cL_C_3A/s1600-h/B%26T3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9CrPc2G_I/AAAAAAAAAHc/K7s2cL_C_3A/s320/B%26T3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192442206030797810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9Ckfc2G-I/AAAAAAAAAHU/V6MCCpYBl-U/s1600-h/B%26T1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9Ckfc2G-I/AAAAAAAAAHU/V6MCCpYBl-U/s320/B%26T1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192442090066680802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9DGfc2HCI/AAAAAAAAAH0/rgomObgnzSs/s1600-h/B2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9DGfc2HCI/AAAAAAAAAH0/rgomObgnzSs/s320/B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192442674182233122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9C9fc2HBI/AAAAAAAAAHs/hFNS6wshO54/s1600-h/B+in+d+bush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9C9fc2HBI/AAAAAAAAAHs/hFNS6wshO54/s320/B+in+d+bush.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192442519563410450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I miss the kids...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1225141220508062583?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1225141220508062583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1225141220508062583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1225141220508062583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1225141220508062583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/kids.html' title='The Kids'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SA9Cv_c2HAI/AAAAAAAAAHk/X7EStDV8du4/s72-c/B%26T4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-120746118381552425</id><published>2008-04-18T07:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T07:22:24.058+08:00</updated><title type='text'>AvRAm U're The MaN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SAfbgOa2FTI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ACxSlM64nG8/s1600-h/grant_AndrewYates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SAfbgOa2FTI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ACxSlM64nG8/s320/grant_AndrewYates.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190358442240775474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the night Avram Grant said too little and, in the process, did too much to his chances of maintaining the job few believe he merits. In a bizarre press conference, he contrived to undermine his own position with a remarkable sequence of non-committal, unhelpful and at times inaudible answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A deserved win Avram?&lt;br /&gt;Grant said: 'Yes.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What particularly pleased you about the performance?&lt;br /&gt;'I'm pleased.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What in particular pleased you?&lt;br /&gt;After an eight second delay: 'I don't know.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a relief to win here?&lt;br /&gt;'Yes.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seem lost for words by the performance. Are you more satisfied with the performance or the victory?&lt;br /&gt;'Both.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seem distracted. Do you have a problem?&lt;br /&gt;'No problem.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there an issue?&lt;br /&gt;'No. I'm ok. I have nothing to say.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have a message for the Chelsea fans?&lt;br /&gt;'You represent the Chelsea fans?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They must believe you are still in the title race, do you have a message for them?&lt;br /&gt;'No message.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this result mean you are back in it now?&lt;br /&gt;'I don't know.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many steps have you climbed to undertake this press conference?&lt;br /&gt;'I don't know.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seem less voluble than usual. Is it because of Sky TV moving the game to a Thursday?&lt;br /&gt;'Maybe it's because of you. I don't know. I am ok.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are saying that you don't know if you are still in the title race?&lt;br /&gt;'No.' Is it easier to say nothing Avram?&lt;br /&gt;'I don't what to answer. It is a good question. I don't know what to answer.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this because of Sky?&lt;br /&gt;'No. Sky is ok. I enjoy watching them.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a protest against newspapers?&lt;br /&gt;'No. Why?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why else would you come in and refuse to answer our questions?&lt;br /&gt;'I answer every question.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are two points behind Manchester United and you don't know if you are still in the title race?&lt;br /&gt;'No.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you told the players that you don't know if you are back in the title race?&lt;br /&gt;'What I tell the players is something else. You want me to tell you what I say to the players?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just want you to answer the question really. Are you in the title race?&lt;br /&gt;'I don't know.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you not like to gain some positive publicity for the result rather than this bizarre silence?&lt;br /&gt;'I'm sorry. You can write whatever you want and I can answer what I want.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel under pressure to deliver a trophy. Is that the reason for the monosyllabic answers?&lt;br /&gt;'No.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you upset? Do you feel you have been misrepresented?&lt;br /&gt;'Maybe I have said because it is a bad season.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did Michael Essien faint?&lt;br /&gt;'He had some problems, but he is ok.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Ballack?&lt;br /&gt;'Injured.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's his problem?&lt;br /&gt;'Ask the doctor.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not here Avram.&lt;br /&gt;'Well call him then.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever played the yes/no game Avram?&lt;br /&gt;.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-120746118381552425?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/120746118381552425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=120746118381552425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/120746118381552425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/120746118381552425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/avram-ure-man.html' title='AvRAm U&apos;re The MaN!'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/SAfbgOa2FTI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ACxSlM64nG8/s72-c/grant_AndrewYates.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-8162943442078783735</id><published>2008-04-15T15:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T20:27:26.511+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Timothy 1:7</title><content type='html'>“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, God has not given us the spirit of fear, but Satan has. He won't miss out every single opening we've left for him to creep in and work his evil spells. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spirit of Fear, in the name of Christ, Be Gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you go on pestering me again, I'm afraid I'll have to ask my Father to do some ass-kicking. So, FUCK OFF!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-8162943442078783735?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/8162943442078783735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=8162943442078783735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8162943442078783735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/8162943442078783735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/2-timothy-17.html' title='2 Timothy 1:7'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-5838616014515800712</id><published>2008-04-10T17:33:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T20:48:57.213+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Inspired by the way LF did his updating. Quick and effective. So I'm giving it a go myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Got myself another eye candy at Uni. She's a 'crossed-breed' &gt;&gt; Aussie X Singaproean. Too bad she's taken. But no harm done by just befriending her right? I think I'll get to know her soon. Wish me luck =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Surviving well in class. Thanks for ya prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Spent almost the whole hour helping kui mui out last night with her debate but the time seemed to have been wrongly invested. She couldn't get all that I've typed, or at least half of it, due to her sucking internet connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Chelsea booked their place in the semis. And this will be the third time in four UCL seasons in which we face the Reds in the semis. And history shall stay being historical. This time, we're gonna get them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Heard from khin about getting a job at the end of this year. Sounds exciting! I wonder if I can get into an accounting firm and get apprenticed for the summer hol which I'll be spending back in Sibu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Talked to mum last night. Relieved to receive some good news on my uncle's operation, as well as granny's health issue. Relieved to know that the kids are still there. Been worrying if they still wondered out onto the road and got dognapped by some dognappers. In fact, they still do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_3lT01-95I/AAAAAAAAAF0/qvjtfsOrrtQ/s1600-h/B+ball2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_3lT01-95I/AAAAAAAAAF0/qvjtfsOrrtQ/s320/B+ball2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187554474566023058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Miss the kids real much. Especially the gluttonous one who can literally swallow down a whole chicken wing together with the bones in less than 10 secs. And he's just getting warmed up!! I know its unhealthy but that's what happens when he's given chicken or pork. He gorges everything in within a time frame of less than a couple of minutes. I know neither chicken nor pork and the likes will do his health any good but c'mon, he deserves to have a life too ok? Having dog biscuits is almost similar to us having those tasteless wheatbits, and without milk ( because ceteris paribus, they don't have milk or any juice to go with the biscuits either). And dog biscuits for every meal? That's a killer man~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sums out the past few days. Nothing rocking about my life I know. I'm a boring person, deal with it~ 0.o&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-5838616014515800712?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/5838616014515800712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=5838616014515800712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5838616014515800712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5838616014515800712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_3lT01-95I/AAAAAAAAAF0/qvjtfsOrrtQ/s72-c/B+ball2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-6122328480394954751</id><published>2008-04-03T11:30:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T21:37:02.968+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Call</title><content type='html'>HEY!! Guess what!! I'm not sure whether this is good or bad news, but I have the answer to the reason behind the swapping classes of MJ. Apparently, she got in the wrong class on the first week. No wonder her name wasn't on the roll. The good thing is, I didn't scare the crap out of her until she decided to switch to another class. That can't possibly happen because I've even yet to talk to her and also, how on earth can my look scare her off. Sorry for the narcissism again. So the bad thing about the story is, I aint seeing her, knowing her, and you know what follows..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Teng has got a new look!! Many asked if I did this due to some emotional breakdown but nah~ I'm just over with long fuzzy hair. And this time, both sides of my hair have been shaved. YES! SHAVED! I know it looks hooligany and to some, provocative. In fact, there was this young brat showing me his middle finger while his car passed me by at the bus stop days ago. I was surprised at first but managed to grasp his point afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_TdJmJKhQI/AAAAAAAAAFY/i-6K-58cA58/s1600-h/Photo+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_TdJmJKhQI/AAAAAAAAAFY/i-6K-58cA58/s320/Photo+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185012227937830146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Animal Mania Jelly is Addictive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked to dad last night. It was both very insightful and comforting I should say. As soon as I heard it was dad on the phone, I voiced out my concerns and doubts about myself immediately. He urged me to show some patience and give myself time for you wont overnight, learn to be as pushy and vocal as those contenders for the next Trump's apprentice while they are killing each other off in the boardroom. I keep seeing examples and inspiration around everyday &gt;&gt; people who have made a huge success out of nothing from the start. This is the very minority out of the vast majority though. Therefore the question is, Can I be one of the minority? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back, I really was rushing things up for myself to a certain extent that I wouldn't even be able to take them all. The principle underlying this is equivalent to the answer to the question of 'Why hasn't God come to us yet?'. I was asked by my mentor about that question, which was supposed to be a self-inspiring one. And the explanation to it is that we are all too dumb to really comprehend the true wonders of God and His Kingdom. There might be some who are already in a close relationship with Him and ready to accept whatever that's very gradually descending this world of mankind, but for the rest of us, who might not even have the idea that Jesus Christ exists, it'll certainly be something that is beyond our understanding. Worst case scenario? We'll go bizarre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compared to the case above, what I'm dealing with right now is without a doubt, a crunchable peanut. I'm just being an above average whinny person and agitated about getting it all done in a split second. And that's how I put myself in a state of trauma. Luckily I'm still far from the point where I'd run into the crowd naked and scream jibberish. And the call woke me up. It woke me up. I'll just go according to the flow from here on and let the time and experience run their course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6122328480394954751?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6122328480394954751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6122328480394954751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6122328480394954751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6122328480394954751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/call.html' title='The Call'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_TdJmJKhQI/AAAAAAAAAFY/i-6K-58cA58/s72-c/Photo+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-7449899638713027668</id><published>2008-04-01T13:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T14:48:06.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>STRESS</title><content type='html'>Stress! Stress! and more Stress! That's what I've been getting for the past week and it's even intensifying from the moment I sat for my first law lecture in week 3. It's only week 3 and I'm suffocating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being born without English as your first language is really frustrating. I can't speak my mind even when I do have ideas about a certain topic because for most of the time, I'm too engaged in focusing on ideas others bring to the table to put my own mind to answering or asking questions. It's very very demoralizing. I'm beyond belittled or humbled, my inability to be even the most insignificant part of the discussion devalues me to a useless good-for-nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep wondering around, looking for people who could be in the same boat as I am. But nope, Japaneses, Koreans, Chinese, Lebanese and so forth, they are all well ahead of me in terms of our command of English. Most probably because they grew up here, and picking up English as their mother tongue is not really something abnormal. And they probably have the same understanding towards the language issue we, international students are facing. But no matter how understanding they could get, it still doesn't put you in a complacent spot as far as my language is concerned. Not many have too much problem fitting in though, but I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, I really regretted to not have insisted my dad on sending me over before I went on with my form 4. That's probably the worst decision I've made till this point in time. Although I do realize that it doesn't really matter much since it's just a matter of time before I familiarize myself with the local cultures, I could have faced the same problem back then if I were here earlier, but I don't know, I feel so isolated from the majority of the group which consists the locals. We might be just as worse-off but I'm the one alien to this new place, so I'm the one getting all these uneasiness and uncomfiness which I have no idea how to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no one to turn to. I've tried a few mentors but they are injecting even more pressure in me. I did voice out my suffering to dad once and all I got was a lecture on the concept of 'Don't give up, just yet!', followed by a series of disappointment that I could tell from the tone of his voice. So, count that out. I'm clinging to a bunch of Singaporeans who are having more or less the same situation as I do, but that only further strips away my confidence and independence to step up and speak up in the presence of all those unfamiliar faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I know I haven't been doing the best I can in my prayers, not even the praying itself. I'm truely sorry for shutting my mind off and falling asleep straight after throwing myself on the bed. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;God, I need you&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not planning to give this up yet and I don't want to even think about giving up but the pressure is cutting off my lifespan bit by bit. God, I'm drowning~ and I seriously think it's time for a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Bondi rescue!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7449899638713027668?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7449899638713027668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7449899638713027668' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7449899638713027668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7449899638713027668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/04/stress.html' title='STRESS'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7337290076806779769</id><published>2008-03-26T18:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T22:37:29.609+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to Local &amp; Supreme Courts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4lHU1-99I/AAAAAAAAAGU/OKXZVvucA3A/s1600-h/26032008(005).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4lHU1-99I/AAAAAAAAAGU/OKXZVvucA3A/s320/26032008(005).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187624628561835986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a hell of an experience!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have this assignment of a report regarding our visits and observation of the proceedings in two different courts of Australia which will be due in two weeks' time. And if it wasn't for this compulsory individual assignment, I wouldn't have known that anybody, just anybody can step inside a court room regardless of your social status, profession, language qualifications and the likes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to my lack of sense of responsibility, I was informed about the assignment and had to sort out the plan for the trip on short notice. Luckily I had Vivian and Mei Shan to make this thing happen. Although I was pretty much the one scheduling out the details  of the visit, it couldn't have gone as well without their company. Doing this alone would have scared the guts out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4k8k1-98I/AAAAAAAAAGM/N_yaevyoIyw/s1600-h/26032008(004).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:left;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4k8k1-98I/AAAAAAAAAGM/N_yaevyoIyw/s320/26032008(004).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187624443878242242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently you have to go through a scan search before entering the courtrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4kN01-97I/AAAAAAAAAGE/m86ZwvKVGi4/s1600-h/26032008%28001%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4kN01-97I/AAAAAAAAAGE/m86ZwvKVGi4/s320/26032008%28001%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187623640719357874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sneaking to take a picture of this isn't easy at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first we sat for the cases in the local court. I wasn't really surprised to realize that the courtroom was relatively smaller and less sophisticated compared to other superior courts. And you don't get to see barristers with their wigs on but yet, the formality and gloominess of the atmosphere in there has already reached a high enough level that allows you to be intimidated right away. I couldn't help but to address my inability to fully comprehend the entire proceeding of each case. I couldn't recognize the language used between the Magistrate and the other judicial professionals as if they were either speaking in tongue or anyone of those alien languages. I tried and stretched my concentration span to its limit and guess what? The effort not only proved to be worthless, but also fatigued my physique until my body literally ached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I did manage to get a vague idea of what the cases were about, who the defendants were, what charges and sanctions were imposed on the defendants and so forth. They became understandable only when the defendants themselves were questioned or 'preached' by the Magistrate in a much less technical way in regards to the courtroom dialogue. So I'm not sure whether that's a thing to be proud of or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dying in there. There were many other undergrads from presumably the same uni experiencing the court hearing for presumably the same purpose as mine. But what differentiates between me and the rest is, once the justices voiced to take ten, they all started mumbling away; some discussing about the facts, some analyzing, and the rest just busy referring notes taken with each other's. And I? I sat there, yawning while working on the question in mind, "what's for lunch?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after the hearing and the lunch with the gals, it was time to meet up with the two sisters. YEA!! THEY ARE HERE MAN~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Wait for the pictures)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7337290076806779769?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7337290076806779769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7337290076806779769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7337290076806779769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7337290076806779769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/trip-to-local-supreme-courts.html' title='Trip to Local &amp; Supreme Courts'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R_4lHU1-99I/AAAAAAAAAGU/OKXZVvucA3A/s72-c/26032008(005).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-686034436077808886</id><published>2008-03-25T13:57:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T14:59:27.251+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Bbq</title><content type='html'>Been feeling guilty for spending the whole weekend partying. Well, it was Good Friday on Friday and Easter on Sunday, and we're supposed to be religious about these by devoting a lil more time to God. And I think I did and that is partly the reasons behind my flunking of studies. So guess I'm excused for this time. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been here for about a year and excluding the MSO barbeque a week earlier, I had my first barbeque at one of the beaches in Sydney. I can't recall the name of the beach but it is the long-stretched one which you'll come across on the way to Wollongong. It was a Sunday, as part of the celebration for Easter. I know I've always been doing a lot of talking, or writing. So this time, let the pictures take it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWj2JKhCI/AAAAAAAAADo/uSgf02-IEtU/s1600-h/beach4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 4pt 10px 10px 4pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWj2JKhCI/AAAAAAAAADo/uSgf02-IEtU/s320/beach4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181556913863296034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not as bad as it may look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iW_2JKhGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/B76m73kzPrc/s1600-h/beach7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 4pt 10px 10px 4pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iW_2JKhGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/B76m73kzPrc/s320/beach7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181557394899633250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids growing up here are so blessed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWy2JKhEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GK_W4K9FGq4/s1600-h/beach3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWy2JKhEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GK_W4K9FGq4/s320/beach3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181557171561333826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kee Liong welcoming the breeze~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXtGJKhKI/AAAAAAAAAEo/CJCuzSDKA7s/s1600-h/harbour.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXtGJKhKI/AAAAAAAAAEo/CJCuzSDKA7s/s320/harbour.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181558172288713890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the little harbour where everyone just sorta huddle in for reasons I have yet to discover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iW7GJKhFI/AAAAAAAAAEA/-JqICjTjbQs/s1600-h/beach6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iW7GJKhFI/AAAAAAAAAEA/-JqICjTjbQs/s320/beach6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181557313295254610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want one!! Be it a G Retriever. Well, Bobby'll do too.. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWtmJKhDI/AAAAAAAAADw/Vpi0RNIJiNk/s1600-h/beach9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWtmJKhDI/AAAAAAAAADw/Vpi0RNIJiNk/s320/beach9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181557081367020594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very small part of the entire park where the Bbq was held. The place is HUGE!! I haven't got a camera with big enough lenses to fit in the entire scenery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXIGJKhHI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Sh4x9hHEKbc/s1600-h/beach2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXIGJKhHI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Sh4x9hHEKbc/s320/beach2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181557536633554034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's another small section of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXhWJKhII/AAAAAAAAAEY/M0uXdBax_yQ/s1600-h/all+of+us.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXhWJKhII/AAAAAAAAAEY/M0uXdBax_yQ/s320/all+of+us.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181557970425250946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us, almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXnGJKhJI/AAAAAAAAAEg/nTBf9p4Hw9U/s1600-h/funny+joe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iXnGJKhJI/AAAAAAAAAEg/nTBf9p4Hw9U/s320/funny+joe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181558069209498770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Funny Joe~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-686034436077808886?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/686034436077808886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=686034436077808886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/686034436077808886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/686034436077808886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-bbq.html' title='Easter Bbq'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iWj2JKhCI/AAAAAAAAADo/uSgf02-IEtU/s72-c/beach4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-4400725972103608371</id><published>2008-03-21T19:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T18:00:15.082+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Friday</title><content type='html'>Easter's almost here!! How are u guys celebrating? I'm having a week off but still waiting for something interesting to rock on my hol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, nothing much was up for the past couple of weeks. It was more about the transitional period I had, and am still having, to get myself familiar with the way uni life works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you guys have been well-informed by my previous updates about this gal whom I'm having a crush on, I think I have nothing else to add from the last time. Nothing, literally nothing seems to be working out for the time being. It doesn't improve, but only gets worse, somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Law degree is a daunting task to handle. And yet, I'm only doing the foundations of law. What a crap I am. There are heaps of readings to be covered in a given number of days and yet, I'm taking my time on it. I'm back to my old routines which mainly revolve around sitting in front of the desktop and indulging myself in whatever distraction I can get from the screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined the Law Society program via which you get to meet new faces and basically socialize. It is kinda like an informal meeting held regularly and what you do during the session is basically chat around with the rest of the group. It is cool, but I'm still picking up bit by bit of how to barge in the conversation. I know, it may seem to be an easy task for you all, but given that all your group-mates are either caucasians or locals, do you still have the confidence of ensuring me that everything will turn out perfectly fine? Bullshit!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our cell-group meeting last night without any planning beforehand. It was very encouraging and constructive. What we normally do is to have a meal together while sharing with each other our experiences for the past week or two. We are all weak and helpless in varied aspects of our lives and desire attention and blessings from others and, God. But, through the people around you, God has proven the fact that you are not alone, people do care and worry about you, and your needs are taken into account. Ron and Lucy ( group leaders) have fed us with a lot of wisdom towards curbing the issues in each of our lives. I have to give thanks and praises to Lord for such wonderful friends, or perhaps in a more pragmatic term, parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Good Friday and when Jesus was crucified. I heard that it has been a gloomy day for every Good Friday since three or four years ago. After consecutive weeks of sizzling hot temperatures, the sky throughout today was surprisingly covered with miserable clouds whilst heavy winds were effective at sending chills into our veins. I suppose these are all in conformity with the sort of atmosphere we have for the sad occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, three days from now, it'll be Easter!!  So, Happy Easter, everyone!! , in advance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-4400725972103608371?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/4400725972103608371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=4400725972103608371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4400725972103608371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4400725972103608371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/good-friday.html' title='Good Friday'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-2953715067590891928</id><published>2008-03-18T14:01:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T18:26:08.631+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All Over</title><content type='html'>I've got four tutorials altogether every week for the first semester. And I thought I was really lucky enough to have been in the same class with her even though it was just for one tutorial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what?  She just switched to another class. Holy MADNESS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does that imply? There are a few possible reasons behind her switching of classes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a. She didn't find anyone attractive in the class, so she left and hopefully gets to be in another class where there are hot hunks in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;b. She finds me irritating and just couldn't wait for me to get the hell out of her sight. ( That doesn't make sense, at all. How am I irritating? )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;c. She has her own special someone already and wanted to be in the same class with that person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;d. There were clashes between classes and therefore she has to make the switch. ( Hopefully this is the right inference. )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But regardless, she's GONE, and I'm DONE FOR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2953715067590891928?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2953715067590891928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2953715067590891928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2953715067590891928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2953715067590891928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-all-over.html' title='It&apos;s All Over'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7035843446282550613</id><published>2008-03-16T21:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T22:10:59.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MSO BBq</title><content type='html'>MSO stands for Malaysian Students Organization, and as simply written as above, we were having a barbeque. It was yesterday, which was when I was supposed to stay at home cramming my brain with all the legal facts that I've learned for the week. But I went, for solely one reason, and that was to get to be with this gal and hopefully befriend her as the first move I was about to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, it's just one of my nature to keep a distance away from this person I find interested in, and watch out for her every move from afar. It feels safe to just sneak a peak of her once at a time without giving your feelings away; but it kills to realize that that's the only thing you can do if it persists in the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I did try to approach her a couple of times but it was just TOO HARD. To give you a little idea of the level of difficulty associated with doing this, here's what actually happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to get a sausage or two for myself, and quite 'coincidentally', she was helping out with barbequeing the sausages. So, with all the guts I've got, I moved forward and stood a couple of feet away from her, beside the bbq stand. Actually, she was busy with the onions at the same time too. And it turned out that the onions were ready well before the sausages and therefore, she asked if anyone would like to have some of them. A few shouts followed and plates were chucked towards her for a help of the onions. She picked up a tongsful of onions and distributed them around. Ok, around I meant by to the people around her, and I was literally standing among the people AROUND her. Now, she turned to her right, asked every single one of them if they wanted onions, gave a share of the onions to those who handed in their plates; and to her left, repeating the process. I was one of those standing on her left, and I was REALLY excited to just be asked if I wanted onions. But guess what, the asking and distributing stopped right before my turn. And it was neither because the onions had run out, nor because they were not cooked. It was like when she noticed it was me, she just STOPPED. She was wearing sunglasses so I couldn't tell if she was having any awkwardness in her eyes at the instant when she saw me but one thing I'm sure about is that she did notice me, and she turned down immediately, looking at the onions when my turn was supposed to be up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's worse? As you all know, when you're having a bbq, everyone will just huddle around the stand waiting for the food to be ready. So you don't suppose a queue do you? But to my amazement, she did. Apparently I wasn't supposed to stand at one of the sides of the stand while the rest could just surround the other edges of the stand in whatever style there is. So she voiced out : " Guys, we need some organization here." How embarrassing was that? I might have been too sensitive about this, but I'm still sticking to the idea that the comment was meant for myself alone. I'm not offended, I'm discouraged. First, my need in regard to the onions was neglected, and now, I have been asked to behave in the right way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the event went on in a monotonous way, with most of the present chatting away. I was engaged in quite a few conversation with a number of new faces, but for the whole time, my heart and attention belonged to somewhere, someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is pretty much it for the bbq. I was quite disappointed with the whole event, which is not necessarily the indicative of the lack of fun in it. There is no further need for me to put it more bluntly for you guys as to the reason why it stank for me. Well, what the heck, it's all because of this gal. She drives me crazy in every sense possible, both positive and unhealthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARGghhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7035843446282550613?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7035843446282550613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7035843446282550613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7035843446282550613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7035843446282550613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/mso-bbq.html' title='MSO BBq'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-445017778545577752</id><published>2008-03-14T19:05:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T18:10:43.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>Stupid Tagging Thing. And I know I might be just as stupid if I continue with the 'fun' tagging away. But I have had enough stress for the week, it could be something that will pull me out of the ugly picture that has been haunting me for the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here goes nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Given the chance to have any ability or power without foregoing anything, what would you like to have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The ability to grant wishes from others and of course ,myself. Therefore, I could give a helping hand to those in need and at the same time, do whatever I want. But, if that was the case, I think I might be stuck somewhere between heaven and hell. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If u were to be stranded on an island, who are the three person that you would like to take with you? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; a. A gal by the initials MJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;   -because I'm pretty sure I won't be getting any bolster in the island.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; b. My dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;   -I wouldn't have gone this far without him, and being stranded on the island could be regarded as the end of the world for you, but I'm positive that my dad will come out with something. He fixes EVERYTHING!! (well, not the loosen pipes, broken table lamp, short-circuited plugs and so forth though).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; c. My mum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  - This may sound cruel but someone has to cook. XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Where is the place that you would long to go most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  - Heaven. Where else? daa~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you can have one dream come true, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  - End up being someone whom I'm designed to be. I have to fulfill the purposes of my life but I'm not entirely sure what they are , yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you believe in seeing a rainbow after a rainfall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  - WooH WooH !! I know this one!! It is the spectrum thing right? The band of colors produced by the separation of the components of light by their different degrees of refraction according to wavelength right? Shit, I sound scientific.  So HELL YA~~ but what on earth is the question trying to imply anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What or who are you afraid to lose most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; - My soul. Those who answered 'my loved ones' are just being hypocritical (no offense). How could you have put someone else before you when obviously YOU yourself are the one YOU love most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If you win one million bucks, what would you do with the money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; - First, finalise my crazy Uni tuition fees. Second, be the major sponsor/ investor in my dad's most recent investment. Third, put my younger bro through his Uni and my dad's major worry away.. Well, we are talking about one million here, how much more can you do with it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. If you meet with someone you love, would you confess to her (my case) ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; - Principle number one: Always play hard-to-get in the early stages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; -Principle number two: Be proactive in terms of approaching her, spending time with her and so forth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;when the other one's playing hard-to-get.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; BUT not confessing yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; -Principle number three: Only do it when you feel the time is right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sorry for the big U-turn, but yea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. List out three good points about the person who tagged you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- She has the luck of getting away with tagging me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- She has the gut to label me as the type of person who blushes in front of gals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- She is quite consistent with her reasons for not blogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Well, I can go all the way if it hasn't been just three that's required.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What are the requirements that you wish from your better half?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Very presentable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Good at bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Being there when I need her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Not being there when I don't need her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What type of person do you hate most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-People who have a very good chance of losing eternity. (God, please forgive me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What is your ambition?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Being on the press or public in general, arguing with, suffocating and intimidating those who are standing in my way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. If you have a fault, would you rather people point it out for you, or do you prefer them to be quiet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Handle it with tact or else just shut the hell up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What do you think is the most important part of your life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- The fulfillment of my purposes before I leave this world behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Are you a shopaholic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- I'm metrosexual. Well, at least I only patronize the men's sections.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What musical instrument do you like the most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Piano. I really wish I could present really good plays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. If you have a chance, which part of your character would you like to change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- The part of me that bears the conception that I am not at all good at anything and it's better to just let go if I fail at the first attempt. That happened to my law degree, but I've resumed it anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Is there anything that you have done for which you have regrets?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- THIS IS THE SILLIEST QUESTION OUT OF ALL THE LISTED.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Do you love your life at the moment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Having MAJOR problems with it, but in the process of adjusting. Probably a girlfriend would work things out for me. ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Should we all stop tagging?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- No, we MUST.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tagging :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-445017778545577752?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/445017778545577752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=445017778545577752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/445017778545577752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/445017778545577752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-6698727760880157962</id><published>2008-03-11T22:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T22:29:07.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NO!!</title><content type='html'>No!! I'm sticking myself to B Com/Law. I'm doing it no matter what. I'll make a huge humiliation out of myself at first alright but hopefully things will improve as the course goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm sticking to it. Anyone having superglue? Perhaps I should cement myself onto it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, please, this is THE decision out of all the decisions I've made. Please guide me through all the way...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6698727760880157962?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6698727760880157962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6698727760880157962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6698727760880157962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6698727760880157962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/no.html' title='NO!!'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-6417552745123426686</id><published>2008-03-11T12:57:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T13:54:12.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony</title><content type='html'>So the effect of the aftershock is gradually fading. And I was looking forward to attending the second day of my Uni, with hopes that things would turn out better this time. Well, it could not go any worse could it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yea, second day of my Uni turned out to be much better for solely one reason. HeHe~&lt;br /&gt;It was to my surprise that in such a desperate state of mine, it suddenly came a glow of comfort and hopefulness. I walked into the first tut of the day and was immediately cast with a smile by my friend. I wondered why. So I scanned around the class and there she was, the same old gal I've been carrying on with my lips for the past 6 months or so. However, for some reason I acted nonchalant towards her presence. I didn't go nuts having her with me in the same class which is something that I've been wishing for ages. I didn't even look at her when she was leaving the class and was just inches behind me. Guess it's just another Aaron's way of handling stuff. I know, I'm making a really awful example here but changes take time. I'm still learning bit by bit to get more interactive with anyone out there. So this is irony number one of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it is more than good to finally have someone whose every single moves, change of expression, smile, yawn, and so forth can feed my eyes well on a regular basis. Oya, I remember discovering her sun-burnt on her back while she was writing on the board. She's probably gone to Bondi just days ago.  But unfortunately, for now there is just one tutorial in which we are classmates. Hopefully there will be even more occasions or activities in which I can make use of to approach her. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irony number two. I had Finance tutorial today and it was below satisfactory.  There were too many asians from the foundation course I previously attended. This is almost the opposite of the circumstances yesterday during my law lecture, except that there are also quite a number of locals attending the Finance class. Last night I wondered why I had all the locals as my classmates and now, I'm being picky about not having enough locals. Gosh!!. Anyways, I'm planning to fit into anoother tutorial where there are less annoying honkies or chinese in it (sorry if I've offended anyone), but more hot chicks for stimulation. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still feeling terribly sorry for myself not to be able to handle the law degree. I'm not sure if I will be if I persevere with it because anyone will develop along the course of the programme.But the thing is, I'm already getting this extreme feeling of discomfort stepping into the law class. Therefore, I don't see a point why the continuation of the law degree is necessary. I had five Commerce/Law degree undergraduates as my Econ tut today and four of them leaves me no doubt that they will be able to fit in well. Two of them are ABCs, one local, and one senior Singaporean who has already done two years of uni elsewhere. The only one left graduated from the same foundation course I took and just from the mere look of his appearances, I've made a not-so-good judgment about him already. I know, I'm wrong, but that's everyone's nature. He blabbered out loud about the double degree he's taking and the subjects he'll be majoring in to those sitting around him. That reminded me of someone whom no one else knows better except for myself&gt;&gt; Me. It's totally a let down to my dad, my friends and most of all, myself to just give it up like that without a serious try. I used to be very confident and comfortable telling people what degree I'd be doing. And now, not that the Commerce degree is worthless but compared to Com/Law, I could only give a huge sigh of helplessness. Anyways, for that guy, who's gonna be my classmate for the rest of the first sem, wish him luck in his double degree. Just hope he won't get beaten up so early and badly by the culture shock he is to experience. (OH GOSH!! that reminds me, after the first sem, I might not be in the same class with her again. Geezz~ )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter's knocking on the door already... What's your plan for the holiday??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6417552745123426686?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6417552745123426686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6417552745123426686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6417552745123426686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6417552745123426686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/irony.html' title='Irony'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-897783048160155690</id><published>2008-03-10T17:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T18:08:37.819+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Asleep</title><content type='html'>Hi Readers. Sorry to have been away for like ages. You probably assume that the demise of my Grandpa still bothers me so much that I'm still brooding over it. But hell no, I'm just too lazy to blog. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uni started today. First day at uni? &gt;&gt;&gt;&gt; Bloody Hell.  I had one accounting tutorial early in the morning and the moment I stepped into the class, fears immediately crept into me. I looked around and there were a number of caucasians who had already given you the impression of them as a bunch of brainiacs. And I underestimated the rest of my classmates because of the skin color (my color) and only realised that I am actually the one at the bottom of the hierarchy in terms of our language, our understanding of the concepts in accounting, our creativity and so forth. Hi Readers, I'm dealing with caucasians and ABCs here.. Shit!! I feel so isolated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my first day at uni, my first day at accounting tutorial and law lecture. Holy Crap!! And I cant help but to regard the day as my worst nightmare so far. I mentioned about my worries towards my ability and perseverance to cope with the workload of Law degree in the previous blog. But apparently, I have already given up on continuing the subject, or Law course should I say after just one two-hour lecture, let alone trying to cope with the workload. Again, I have caucasians and ABCs as my classmates in that particular lecture, and all of them speak bloody fluent english which I don't think I'll able to catch up with given such a short time frame (2 months and it comes the mid term exam). We were divided into a few groups with four members in each and different tasks were handed to us to come out with as many answers  as we could based on the legal knowledge we have so far. I thought to myself, 'FUCK!! I'm gonna screw up in front of everyone.' And I did. I was allocated to a group with three other members whose creativity shined throughout the entire discussion. I was basically nodding my head or reinforcing their ideas with a 'yea' all the time without really participating in it. Ok, to give you a little bit of idea of what questions we were to deal with, here is one of the questions, in brief:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The availability of oil is getting diminished by the second. So under NASA, the dominant countries with big companies namely the US, China, India, and Japan are trying to come out with a different approach, that is to resorting to a different planet preferably Mars for more oil resources. (HELL LORD!!) So in years to come, the number of people staying in Mars will increase in hundreds. Consequently, a legal system has to be implemented and enforced in Mars to ensure absolute fairness to the society-to-be in Mars. What do you think should be included as part of the legal system?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you think, Readers? Ok, you might need a minute or two to come out with an answer or preferably, answers. But hey, the rest of the class were roaring with countless ideas right after the questions were handed to them. And I could do nothing but to sit with the group on the outside but solitarily on the inside, and to listen and admire at how awesome their grasp of the language and creativity are. They expressed their ideas with a level of ease equal to the one when you fart. They seemed to have all the terminology familiar and running inside every veins in their brains to be able to apply them at all times effectively and impressively. Their sentences are well-structured and could even be expressed in different, fancier ways than how they are usually conveyed. SO THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A LAW UNDERGRADUATE. of course, we're just getting started. More nightmares to come if I continue with the course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And finally one of my groupmates stopped and asked: 'So what else do you think there is to it, Aaron'. I can't say I was shell shock in the face of the enquiry laid in front of me, because it's way beyond that. And I stared hard on the paper where the question was imprinted on and answered: 'I'm trying'.. How convenient and lame is that??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You won't get to know how intimidated I am unless you experience it for yourself. I'm having the smartest among the smart as my peers. And I can't help but to address my inferiority compared to them. And I'm still suffering in the aftershock. So I'm giving up the subject of Law for the time being. But I'm trying to equip myself with as much depth in respect to my proficiency of language as possible before giving it another go, of course in years to come. Hence, Rite Now, Bye Bye, dear dream. I'm putting you to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-897783048160155690?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/897783048160155690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=897783048160155690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/897783048160155690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/897783048160155690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-asleep.html' title='It&apos;s Asleep'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-3589777376091870781</id><published>2008-02-26T22:52:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T23:37:03.735+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When God Takes A Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When God takes a life,&lt;br /&gt;It can happen in just a 'click',&lt;br /&gt;He never gives even the faintest portent of things to come;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When God takes a life,&lt;br /&gt;It can be cruel and ruthless,&lt;br /&gt;He leaves the ones left behind moaning and contemplating in sorrow;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When God takes a life,&lt;br /&gt;It is always beyond the control of human power,&lt;br /&gt;Not a single soul would be able to revive the dead if it is against His will;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;When God takes a life,&lt;br /&gt;It could have been anyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;But He chose my Grandpa's...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-3589777376091870781?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/3589777376091870781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=3589777376091870781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3589777376091870781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/3589777376091870781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/when-god-takes-life.html' title='When God Takes A Life'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-299164775626238701</id><published>2008-02-19T19:35:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T16:34:22.892+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Set and Ready</title><content type='html'>Which one rings a bell with you? Absence makes the heart grow fonder; or Absence underlies the receding of an affection. Well, I made the latter up, but practically speaking, the sentence still makes sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book " The Purpose Driven Life " has been very constructive and encouraging. It is like the bible, except you don't have to be of an immense spiritual intelligence to understand every scripture and verse; you don't have to go through all of His words, together with constant contemplation and still get the messages He intends to implant in you. I'm not suggesting a quick fix to finish reading a bible, but for a starter whose spirit and perseverance might waver at anytime, this book is definitely one of the temporary antidotes to spiritual self-fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, what about the book this time? Well, another chapter of the book spoke to me again, this time with the title " Defeating Temptation ". Summing up, it goes like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temptation is often too overpowering for anyone to bear, let alone to overcome it. Although God has promised never to allow more burden on us than the level of capability to handle the burden He has already equipped us with, it would always be a safer and more effective option to just stay out of the picture. Refocus your attention on something else, change the channel of your mind and get preoccupied with what really matters, what does good to you and what brings the best out of you. If you insist on accepting the challenge and persist with the fight against temptation, the likelihood of your resignation to the Devil's onslaughts will be overwhelming since he is always better at arguing, having had thousands of years to practice. Therefore, next time when temptation rings you on the phone, don't argue with it, just hang up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it worked! Although what I am dealing with is not entirely a temptation, the same principle still applies. I am back to feeling as light as a feather again as soon as the focal point of my day is changed. I tried filling myself with colorful excitement and anticipation for the times right ahead of me and at the same time, putting those unpleasant behind me. Being sealed in a particular confined area in me, emotions and negativity can neither linger nor work their spells on me. However, they do struggle constantly with the lock and try to break free. Perhaps, I am only distracted from the ugly pictures for the time being and yes, eventually the lock will loosen up and they will be back in reign again. But for now, let's just have some peace shall we not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R7uth-rwt1I/AAAAAAAAABw/Y-T4TLBHIZE/s1600-h/ostrich+paste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R7uth-rwt1I/AAAAAAAAABw/Y-T4TLBHIZE/s320/ostrich+paste.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168915796611610450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it seems like I'm just burying my head in the soil in the face of various difficulties. But hey, at the end of the day, it will strike you that none of these issues actually requires your attention and focus. Ok, there might be an understatement somewhere in between. Bottom line, be selective and only invest your time and effort in your top priorities. For the rest of it, just PLAY DUMB =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 3 month's time back in my hometown had me gone through a short, yet intense burst of growth, in terms of my spiritual, mental and moral qualities. I have no one but Him and friends to thank for. And it is just a matter of days before this brief chapter of my life becomes a history. I'm all set and ready to move on to the next phase of my story; to explore and experience the wonders the world has to offer; and to unveil what the future holds...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-299164775626238701?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/299164775626238701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=299164775626238701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/299164775626238701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/299164775626238701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/all-set-and-ready.html' title='All Set and Ready'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R7uth-rwt1I/AAAAAAAAABw/Y-T4TLBHIZE/s72-c/ostrich+paste.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-6469339449040336730</id><published>2008-02-14T20:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T23:08:34.642+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will You Be My Valentine?</title><content type='html'>It's Valentine's Day and I'm counting down for it to be over. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a little while with Andy yesterday at one of those accessories and toys shops where you can get whatever funny and weird stuff you can think of. Well, it was neither for my gal nor myself because firstly, I am still out in the wild hunting for the juiciest one and second, none of those fancy miscellaneous really fascinate me ( Unless it's from my special someone. Then that will be a different case). It was for Andy's gal, who apparently did not even make an effort to appreciate the gift that had us spent a whole hour and racked our brains to finally come out with. Note: Gals are troublesome beings, and yet we guys tend to enjoy the process of trying to overcome all sorts of complications that the fairer sex have for us. I guess life will be a little more fun with different spices added to it,no matter sweet, spicy, sour or bitter, than just living it in a monotonous way. I've been there, done that, so I dare to make such a statement ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIENDS series have given me an impression that asking a girl out for a drink should no longer be a daunting task. If she turns you down, easy~, look around, WOoH WoOH!! there's another one over there, pick yourself up and start again.... until you get yourself a "yes". But does it apply the same way in reality? Yes I bet, but the chances still are you'll raise the white flag in the middle of the entire process, saying goodbye to the next attempt because you are done with expressing your feelings toward those heartless and yet emotional beings just to find yourself getting rejection and dejection in return. But hey, please don't be discouraged. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff commented that I am no longer as jovial as before. What does the word mean anyway? Perky? Jerky? Full of spirit? More or less I reckon. And yea, I AM no longer the old Aaron who jokes about people, plays pranks on people and carries around with him a mischievous smile signaling a series of misfortune is going to happen to the next person he sees. So what about the new, grown-up Aaron? I contemplated about this and I could only describe myself as a person who has covered himself with a cloak which prevents him from giving himself away too cheaply. It safeguards him from most of the less intense, incoming threats from the outside. It prepares him to be in an absolute defense state and ready to seize every single opportunity for a counter attack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there are people of whom I will take my veil off when around and to whom I will show my most genuine sincerity. But that does not necessarily mean they will be able to find the quality of cheekiness and wackiness from me. I WILL, join the fun and be involved in the craze if there is one, but will not go beyond the edge where pure insanity lies. I am Me. I am living up my life and at the same time, enjoying the process of maturing. After all, we all have to grow up for the better. It is just a matter of time and our own readiness for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Great! One more hour to go before my sense of loneliness and being left out becomes less prevailing. Aaron, work hard to ensure a better Valentine's Day next time ya... =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6469339449040336730?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6469339449040336730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6469339449040336730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6469339449040336730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6469339449040336730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/will-you-be-my-valentine.html' title='Will You Be My Valentine?'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7697144706865139939</id><published>2008-02-13T23:04:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T13:58:45.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry and Thank You</title><content type='html'>They say ' A sharp tongue kindles a temper-fire '. True enough. But in most of the occasions than not, it is just blunt and spontaneous talking that generates the heat, touches the sensitivity and brings an end to a conversation, worse, a friendship or a relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CNY drifted past in a much cooler fashion this time. There was a little difference to the way I celebrated it than how it has always been. I spent more time visiting MY friends' houses with MY friends. I'm no longer a papa's boy who used to just sit around at the corner while house visiting, listening and picking up slowly the ways to be a brilliant braggart. This time, I finally got to join the conversation, with MY friends of course and we could have all the topics the world has to offer to talk  about, although we were just plainly boasting around ( credit to my dad and his mates). Anyway, this CNY is one occasion to remember for there is some speciality associated with it. It might not have been the best, most fun and wacky CNY I've ever had, but my friends' company really did make it special and distinctive to the previous ones. So thank you all =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all the fun and laughters we shared, looking back, there is one thing that had put a flaw on the perfection. Let me ask you something. If you have met with a familiar face of whom you have not been in contact with for ages, and you would like to spend some time refreshing and reestablishing the memories you have towards that old friend, what will you do? Ok, you'd probably answer ' Da~ approach that person and begin the conversation with a "Hi buddy, how's it going?" ' Sure. And what follows? I know, this will never end if I don't get straight to my point. So here it is &gt;&gt;&gt; Eventually, you guys will ask and talk about your past experience of each other's further education. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That happens to everyone of my peers and myself I reckon. It seems to be one necessary issue to discuss about. But, I'll only resort to bringing about that topic when I have run out of ideas trying to break the ice. Even adults join the fun. It is probably the only issue that comes across their mind when communicating with a bunch of kiddos like us. So we'll find questions in respect to your past and future educational undertakings raining heavily upon us. Some deal with it with pleasure and pride, some present an answer to each question with a smile, while clenching their teeth with distaste in the dark. I am not being showy here. I am just here to express my repentance for my insensitivity and inconsiderateness to whom I have offended unintentionally. And also, I am here to thank you for I have learned to become a little more self-conscious of when I am in the 'don't go beyond that'-zone and how to handle awkward situations without putting anyone in an uncomfortable spot. So, sorry and thank you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7697144706865139939?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7697144706865139939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7697144706865139939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7697144706865139939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7697144706865139939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/sorry-and-thank-you.html' title='Sorry and Thank You'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-7405675135063323798</id><published>2008-02-11T13:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T16:12:39.597+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It brings PEACE in me</title><content type='html'>I've been searching for an answer for the last couple of days. I showered myself with hundreds of 'WH' questions. Why is this problem occurring to me? Why can't I make it go away? What should I do to end this torment? What might be the consequences if I do it this way, n that way? And a whole lot down the list...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did name a number of solutions to every question and also two different outcomes (the good and the bad) for every action I take. So the chances are fifty-fifty, if you don't fail, you succeed and the otherwise. But obviously the risk is too hard to bear, so finally I turn to Him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up 'The Purpose Driven Life' and continued from where I stopped the last time. The bookmark was sandwiched in between two pages of the same chapter. That reminded me that I didn't finish the previous chapter before turning in. I stopped at the point where it says 'The Best Use of Life is Love'. And the next point is entitled 'The Best Expression of Love is Time'. So I went on reading the rest of the chapter in the routine way (reading aloud, a word after another). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly speaking, I wasn't really reading the book with an inquiry for THE answer. I was just trying to find a peace of my mind. But suddenly I noticed there seemed to be a number of pieces of a puzzle which was yet to be assembled and if i manage to put them all together in one piece, I might get what I've been looking for all day long. I came across a sentence '&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Relationships take time and effort, and the best way to spell love is "T-I-M-E"&lt;/span&gt; '. Therefore, the first message that occurred to me is to show a little bit of patience and let the time take its course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I told myself 'alright, Aaron, hold it right there, don't let your hormones conquer you', another chapter followed, with the sub-heading '&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Best Time to Love is NOW&lt;/span&gt;'. -_-! It says there '&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;whenever we have the opportunity to do good (love someone), we should do good to everyone&lt;/span&gt;.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I spent quite a while contemplating those two sentences, trying to find a connection and link those two messages together. And finally the light bulb moment came. Here's my interpretation: Spare yourself some time, and only act when you've matured along with the time. You may think you're mature enough to know what you're looking for, but it is not entirely a mature way of thinking when you assume yourself to be ready to handle everything with tact based on the current understanding you have. We never stop to mature as we're allowed by our ongoing, yet very limited time in this world to be exposed to new and different aspects of lives. Those views you have towards life today may contradict with those perspectives you'll be having tomorrow. Those components constructing your life that you find dear and important the previous second may mean nothing to you at all the second later. Therefore, take your time to mature, both psychologically and intellectually, so as to make sure when you're faced with the real deal, you will be able to handle it with considerable enough an amount of wisdom and intelligence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R7ADRerwt0I/AAAAAAAAABo/KJ_-OwQC9M8/s1600-h/Copy+of+Acclaim_Images_comp_0501-0611-1617-4224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R7ADRerwt0I/AAAAAAAAABo/KJ_-OwQC9M8/s320/Copy+of+Acclaim_Images_comp_0501-0611-1617-4224.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165632371423229762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey readers, I know some of you might have finished the book and be thinking that the content of that chapter doesn't have any relevance with any of my problem in any way whatsoever. But I still firmly believe this is the message from Him. I asked for a direction of which He has given me, and I'm already setting my foot on the path towards THAT direction. It brings PEACE in me... =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-7405675135063323798?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/7405675135063323798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=7405675135063323798' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7405675135063323798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/7405675135063323798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/ive-been-searching-for-answer-for-last.html' title='It brings PEACE in me'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp3.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R7ADRerwt0I/AAAAAAAAABo/KJ_-OwQC9M8/s72-c/Copy+of+Acclaim_Images_comp_0501-0611-1617-4224.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-4798476512861359965</id><published>2008-02-08T23:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T17:51:07.813+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bougainvillea or Cactus?</title><content type='html'>A mixture of emotions is running in me. It consists of those of the positive ones namely happiness, gratitude, thrill and sensation as well as those of the negative kinds such as disappointment, confusion, indecision and cowardliness. Imagine having these two opposite charges working side by side with each other. They produce magical sparks as the outcome of continuous friction. It burns inside you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was staring at the artificial plant on the cellar when a sudden 'click' occurred to me. I feel inspired to illustrate the situation I'm in now by taking plants and flowers as the subjects of my illustration. It may sound confusing, in fact, you may still not have the faintest idea of what I'm trying to convey even after you're done reading the post. Anyways, here goes nothing~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R6221urwtvI/AAAAAAAAABA/lqTSrMikM2s/s1600-h/bunga+kertas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R6221urwtvI/AAAAAAAAABA/lqTSrMikM2s/s320/bunga+kertas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164985381844727538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the last time, I was gifted a Bougainvillea seed which I happily accepted and immediately covered it with soil. I watered it, fertilized it everyday, in the hopes that a magnificent flower will grow up well and strong. After a week or two, the stem started to show up, and soon followed by a number of baby green leaves. I wished the flowers could embody the plant as soon as possible, since I would not be able to stay with her for too long. I wanted to be the first to witness for myself this little babe mature and become a real beauty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I could not. I had to go, leaving promises and hopes behind for her and myself that we would be reunited in not too long a period of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My absence proved to be a massive impact for the growth of my Bougainvillea. No one helped take over my responsibility when I was away. No one watered her, no one feed her. Very soon, she died. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screwed myself for giving empty hopes and demanding a strong faith for and from the gone plant. I felt like killing myself for having started this cultivation of the gone plant. I was too blind and foolish to realize that she would die sooner or later because I would not be there to nourish, to nurture her. I vowed not to repeat the same mistake again, not to start a life when you'll only be reason why it ends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R623burwtxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/kGUfiU9MUHg/s1600-h/stand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R623burwtxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/kGUfiU9MUHg/s320/stand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164986034679756562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who knows, lightning strikes the same place twice sometimes. There it is again, another baby plant, standing in front of me. Except this time, I have no idea what species it is and what it will end up becoming. Another Bougainvillea perhaps, or maybe something different. I hope it will grow up to be a cactus. A baby cactus does not need much attention and nourishing and yet it stands up strong against all the odds to finally mature into a striking lady cactus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R623KerwtwI/AAAAAAAAABI/AynuIHrd5ZI/s1600-h/cactus+flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R623KerwtwI/AAAAAAAAABI/AynuIHrd5ZI/s320/cactus+flower.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164985738327013122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, I would have the guts to tell her, " you take your time to grow, I'll be back soon ". I would have the confidence to assure her that there will even be rosy red flowers embodying parts of her and I will be there to witness and admire her wondrous beauty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy and grateful for another chance to make things right. I am thrilled about what the baby plant will grow up to be if I take over the responsibility of nurturing this plant. At the same time, I am worry if I will just end up taking another life. I am indecisive as to whether I should give it another go no matter what the outcome will be. I show signs of cowardliness towards the opportunity standing right in front of me whenever the past manages to haunt me. But deep in me, there is this faint little glow somewhere, lighting hopes up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God, please don't fool me again. Don't make me take another roller-coaster ride just to end up arriving at the initial spot, as if nothing had happened. If this is real, make it happen. If this is it, there's no reason to hold back. I am being truthful with my feelings to You which is something I know that gladdens You. So God, will she be just another Bougainvillea that will die due to its fragility or a strong independent cactus that will still flower even when she does not receive enough care and attention?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-4798476512861359965?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/4798476512861359965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=4798476512861359965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4798476512861359965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/4798476512861359965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/bougainvillea-or-cactus.html' title='Bougainvillea or Cactus?'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R6221urwtvI/AAAAAAAAABA/lqTSrMikM2s/s72-c/bunga+kertas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-6612989138677730323</id><published>2008-02-04T21:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T15:59:13.117+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Counting Sheeps</title><content type='html'>Insomnia has struck, yet again. I close my eyes and try to clear everything outta my mind, but the brain just refuses to give itself a break....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I had soccer earlier this evening, against a bunch of decent players. Overall, our team performance was hideous. 2-1 certainly fails to illustrate how dominant the opposition team were for almost the entire game. About the only goal we managed to score, I hereby take full credit of it, XD. It was more of an individual effort, an one-on-one situation where you either go for your own glory or miss in distasteful disgrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Now you must be wondering, 'what does this soccer game have to do with the insomnia I mentioned earlier??' Easy~ I am intoxicated in my own individual performance in that game, ;) I had forced a couple of genuine threats, sending occasional alarms to the seemingly impenetrable defense, before living up my team from desperation via the elusive goal I produced. Yea yea~ I know I sound like a self-promoting commentator, but the words just flow out incessantly, and I can't help but to 'go with the flow'. Bear with me would ya, perhaps this is another one of Aaron's ways of self-appreciating, XD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Ok now, you must be fucked up and assuming that I am one massive idiot to have thought that the reason behind my insomnia is simply because I can't stop brooding over the game. But, that's not all to it. I have had frequent nights with sleeping disorder out of no reason wadsoever. I'd even purposely tire myself with sports during the day and sometimes workout before bed, thinking that the fatigue would put me well to a nice and deep slumber. But WHAT THE F***?? My body was fatigued alright, but this brain of mine just ain't shutting down, it's even functioning ever so effectively. I think if I were to solve a mathematical equation which involves massive rocket science at this point of time, I'd certainly come out with a solution that would leave all of you shell-shocked, ;) (yea, dream on~)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Well, after I've been through some serious meditation, I have finally sorted out an answer to my sleeping disorder issue. I believe I can't be drifted into my fantasy land due to a single dominant factor -&gt;&gt;&gt; I have nothing in the world RIGHT AT THIS POINT OF MY LIFE to keep my head engaged with. I haven't been polishing those screws in my head and they are rusting real fast. Now, I'm no different than those gossipy women whose lives are so devoid of dramas to an extent that they have no choice but to barge into somebody else's life to spice their owns' up. But don't get me wrong, I'm no gossiper, I just share the commonality on the ground that those things that have been in my mind are nothing but crappy trivialities. Ok, for example, what's for supper?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The longer I stay here, the rustier those screws will be getting. Having gone through so long a time of mental inactivity, I am already losing gradually my sense of direction as to where I should be heading, what I should be doing in order to put myself a step closer at a time to my goals. I've been staying for too long a period in my comfort zone that I'm also losing touch of the cruel reality out there. I'm really worry about how intimidating things will get once I find myself to be much more inferior to my peers at times ahead; how I am gonna deal with this and that, turn things around and never cease to push forward.. The pressure is suffocating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Not that I'm fully unaware of how wasteful I have been towards the time spared for me. At the end of everyday, I will start self-questioning of what I have gained from the day, self-evaluating how better a person I have learnt to become after all that I have experienced today. And shit, more often than not, I am left groping in the dark for an answer for hours and hours. But that doesn't mean I will get one eventually, I'd purposely divert my attention to other little details ranging from making sure if the red top fits well with the white trousers I bought the other day; to admiring and fantasizing about the gal who is making my head go WEEEEeeeeee~, until my brain finally succumbs to the mental fatigue and leaves me alone to sleep. I do all these for I know I have spent the day fucking craps outta nothing and therefore I can't possibly have achieved anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It's a quarter past 2 now. I can hear the rubbish collectors busy on their duty..... The noise is getting fainter, fainterer, faintererer and.... it's gone now. The car must have left. Now it's just complete silence and me, enjoying each other's company.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6612989138677730323?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6612989138677730323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6612989138677730323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6612989138677730323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6612989138677730323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/insomnia-has-struck-yet-again.html' title='Counting Sheeps'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-6090492350680108589</id><published>2008-02-01T00:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T14:32:43.177+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonderful World</title><content type='html'>Idol audition is always the classic. From the pop-star middle aged Asian who sang 'I love you, my brothers'(or something like that) and made Simon shined like an angel through his river-flowing compliments and praises about Simon, to the ex-woman wrestler who dressed up in goth, smacked down almost everyone she came across with and screeched at the top of her bewitching voice, claiming that was her trademark evil laugh (if you've been catching up season 08). And always, i'm truly amazed and  fascinated by those piercing words and heartbreaking sarcasm Simon has for those who truly deserve them. Sometimes, a simple "horrendous" does it all. Way to go, mr COW~&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Well, one of the shows happened to have one of James Morrison's as a good finishing   and summing up of that particular show. It was one of my personal favorites.                &lt;br /&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;             &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Wonderful World"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I've been down so low&lt;br /&gt;             People look at me and they know&lt;br /&gt;             They can tell something is wrong&lt;br /&gt;             Like I don't belong, well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             Staring through a window&lt;br /&gt;             Standing outside, they're just too happy to care tonight&lt;br /&gt;             I want to be like them&lt;br /&gt;             But I'll mess it up again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             I tripped on my way in&lt;br /&gt;             And got kicked outside, everybody saw...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             And I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             But I can't feel it right now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I thought that I was doing well&lt;br /&gt;             But I just wanna cry now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             From the sky down to the sea&lt;br /&gt;             But I can only see it when you're here, here with me, mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             Sometimes I feel so full of love&lt;br /&gt;             It just comes spilling out&lt;br /&gt;             It's uncomfortable to see&lt;br /&gt;             I give it away so easily&lt;br /&gt;             But if I had someone I would do anything&lt;br /&gt;             I'd never, never, ever let you feel alone&lt;br /&gt;             I won't, I won't leave you, on your own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             But who am I to dream?&lt;br /&gt;             Dreams are for fools, they let you down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             And I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             But I can't feel it right now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I thought that I was doing well&lt;br /&gt;             But I just want to cry now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             From the sky down to the sea&lt;br /&gt;             But I can only see it when you're here, here with me, mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             And I wish that I could make it better&lt;br /&gt;             I'd give anything for you to call me, maybe just a little letter&lt;br /&gt;             Oh, it could start again, oh oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             Well I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             But I can't feel it right now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I thought that I was doing well&lt;br /&gt;             But I just want to cry now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             From the sky down to the sea&lt;br /&gt;             But I can only see it when you're here, here with me, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             And I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             I can't feel it right now&lt;br /&gt;             I got all the right clothes to wear&lt;br /&gt;             I just want to cry now, cry now&lt;br /&gt;             Well I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             From the sky down to the sea&lt;br /&gt;             But I can only see it when you're here, here with me, mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             And I know that it's a wonderful world&lt;br /&gt;             When you're with me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It certainly brings back memories ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6090492350680108589?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6090492350680108589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6090492350680108589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6090492350680108589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6090492350680108589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/02/idol-audition-is-always-classic.html' title='Wonderful World'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-2242895024208877689</id><published>2008-01-28T20:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T21:08:18.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bent  It  Like   You -Know -Who</title><content type='html'>I happened to discover this little hilarious section from the bottom corner of a page in Readers' Digest Jan 08:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Football star David Beckham took America by storm. Learn a few things about him here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I definitely want (my son) Brooklyn christened, but I don't know into what religion yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents have been there for me, ever since I was about seven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex Ferguson is the best manager I've ever had at this level (while he was still in Manchester United). Well, he's the only manager I've actually had at this level. But he's the best manager I've ever had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2242895024208877689?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2242895024208877689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2242895024208877689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2242895024208877689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2242895024208877689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/01/bent-it-like-you-know-who.html' title='Bent  It  Like   You -Know -Who'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-1447591842911025910</id><published>2008-01-19T11:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T13:55:56.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Month</title><content type='html'>Its really been a while~ I should have lost all my readers by now. Well, no worries, i'm sure friendster will send all of you a message announcing this new publication of mine right after i'm done with it. So, i'm expecting to see a massive boost to the number of views of my profile, don't disappoint me ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iSnWJKhAI/AAAAAAAAADY/fTEIzN7dNNA/s1600-h/Sleepover1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iSnWJKhAI/AAAAAAAAADY/fTEIzN7dNNA/s320/Sleepover1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181552575946327042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, i should have done this a long time ago ---&gt; express my gratitude and thanks to my bestest buddies who had kept me from my boredom and given me quite an experience to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sien Ding- One of those conservative guys that i've befriended. And once he begins to speak, he can get really cheeky and good with words. Anyways, thanks for your company for the month we have had. Although we didn't really talk much, without you, it couldn't have been as great a moment as the one we shared.  p.s. Good luck in your stpm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wei Yu-  Now somebody gets to have a lil' taste of the pleasure and the thrill of getting hooked up with the opposite sex huh~ The fact that you are unable to be in control of all your ridiculous so-called 'jokes' , and at the same time, still being able to get hold of a gal's heart really amazes me. Haha, no offence. Well, don't take it seriously whenever we throw our insults and sarcism on you, or basically, making fun of you, because YOU ASKED FOR IT!!!  No la, its because that's the way u have always been treated and "old habit dies hard', we're used to it already (xp). Despite all, many thanks for your company, Andy wouldn't have shined without you ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy, we love you for your pressumably pretended childishness. You have always been the one living up a never ending conversation, having all of us engaged in it, and indirectly bonding all of us together. Oya, we really appreciate your effort of taking us on a tour around this tiny little town i call, Sibu, daily. It's through you and sing hoe that now i've become more of a Sibu person in terms of knowing the whereabouts of the landmarks or 'the must-go-places' of this local town. And again, we have another fella here who is also currently experiencing quite a magnificent time with 'some gal out there'. Who would have thought that an irreversible disaster you have had with you-know-who, would be followed by an intoxicating love with 'some gal out ther'. Well, you never know what's ahead of you. Anyways, thanks again, the absurdity of your madness and the idiotism of your earth-shaking screams and laughters ( btw, my ear still hurts) are very much appreciated.   p.s. Good luck in your coming stpm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing Hoe- One full of ideas and inspirations. You never fail to show how much passion and desire for everything circulating in your every vein. Its apparent that the journey you've embarked on so far has been incredible academically, socially and spiritually and we are more than happy for you. The six months' time in the west has definitely trained you to become a person of composure, few words, wisdom, and a whole lot down the list. Besides, you're making a positive impact on the people around you, by sharing the ups and downs along the path you've taken, by indirectly awakening people from their slumber, by motivating and inspiring others to move towards their own objectives and purposes of their lives. I can't thank you enough for that and i'm looking forward to more lectures and philosophies from you. All the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iTgmJKhBI/AAAAAAAAADg/N0oHHXZT2d8/s1600-h/Andy+n+Yk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iTgmJKhBI/AAAAAAAAADg/N0oHHXZT2d8/s320/Andy+n+Yk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181553559493837842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear ol' Yeo Kiong- Still one heck of a tall guy. I'm seriously and secretively envious of your height man~ I'm sure its not a surprise for you huh :/  Anyways, we could never have hanged out during the days when 3883 was not available if it wasnt of you. Although you seemed to love driving in circles which made us a good bunch of people to have asked you to drive us around, we really appreciate your effort in taking all the trouble to make sure everything goes according to plan. And by the way, since when did we first talk about ladies~?? We seemed to have been really engaged in our conversation whenever it came to ladies~ Don't worry, i'm not gonna make a confession for you as to who you have your eyes on (well, i havent got a wide scope anyway). This conversation about gals of ours always reminds me of the sleepover we had the other night. It was indeed one hell of an experience!!! Readers, Andy, Yeo Kiong and I were actually planning to turn in at 3 am after watching late night games, but who knows the three of us, sleeping in one room, would blabber and blabber and blabber and blabber,  and blabber until the dark room was somewhat lightened up by the faint sun beams coming in through the windows and curtains. IT WAS 6 AM !!!! Well, anyone could say "Da~ its a sleepover, u're supposed to stay awake all night anyway~". Right, go ahead and give that a try~ Anyways, throughout the conversation, as you can see, gals had been the main subject. The topic just didn't bore and stop us from continuing, in fact, it kept Andy energetic all night long. What eventually stopped us were the fatigue and sleepiness we carried all the way to the morning. And for your information, Andy only got 2 hours of sleep that night, or should i say, that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is definitely a memory to be kept green in mind. If the color fades, no worries, i'll still have this post as a testament of the great moments we have had during the month's time. Many thanks to All. Many thanks indeed. Till the next time. Ciao~ =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-1447591842911025910?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/1447591842911025910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=1447591842911025910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1447591842911025910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/1447591842911025910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/01/great-month_19.html' title='Great Month'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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://bp1.blogger.com/_cZIo9eoP8UY/R-iSnWJKhAI/AAAAAAAAADY/fTEIzN7dNNA/s72-c/Sleepover1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906084051144919006.post-2479682303275835742</id><published>2008-01-18T11:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T11:34:11.257+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So Far~</title><content type='html'>Its been a while since i parted with my precious iMac. You may think i'm exaggerating, but life without my iMac + AdsL 2 really kills. I cant youtube, i cant prison break, i cant simpsons, i cant nothing. I remember during the peak period when my mind was supposed to be on the preparation for my exam, i could'nt help refreshing my thougths about the plans or basically, stuffs i'd do as soon as i got home. But now, i can hardly recall every single one of them. My point is, one never learns to appreciate the opportunities laid in front of him and will only realise that its too little too late for any amendments eventually. I'd die to be back here when i was in Sydney and now, i'd rather be killed than to live the rest of my days here. But i know, deep down somewhere, that by the time the 28th of Feb comes, it'd be a totally different case again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, this trip home is based on a single dominant purpose-----&gt; to spend more time with my Bobby and Tiny. ( sorry papa and mama ). And yes, i've been doing that as promised. I walked them daily, as many time as i can but its sibu we're talking bout here, so don't expect anyone to walk his dog in the middle of the day when even the dogs themselves refuse to be walked. I really wish i could have the two of them 'shipped' to Sydney and end their suffering under this incredibly insane temperature here. But i know, this sort of request is out of the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanging out with my buddies is used to be my favourite pastime. I don't mean i hate doing that now but not as keen as before. I realised now that all we can do is to have a meal or two together and spend the rest of the time doing basically, nothing in particular. But good on one of my best dudes, he's been doing great throughout his course and has heaps to share. Whenever we have a chance to have a get-together these days, we'll usually share some of our past experiences gained from the days we've spent in people's land. This kind of conversation really reflects how much we've improved over the year and how far away we still are from the goals we've yet to achieve. Therefore, hanging out with friends isn't really a waste of time afterall, but on the condition that you have to improvise the time available to you in as meaningful a way as can be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about tv programmes, you have no idea how much i miss Aussie channels. Channel 7, 9 , and ten. They were the bread and wheats which kept me alive throughout my time in Sydney. They ensured that i was at all times updated on every single news happening around and out of the country, from the congestion-triggering APEC summit meeting, the postponed Melbourne Cup, all the way to the insignificant rehab of the disgraceful Lindsay Lohan and the massive arrival of the money making machine---&gt; Beckham. Sadly, i havent been able to keep up with this good habit because of this low definition of the malaysian tv channels. CNN, BBC, CNBC, everything is a blur. The sound is alright, but c'mon, you don't get high definitioned pictures even when u're watching via a Lcd. Therefore, if you ask about how well Rudd has been doing lately, i have no idea; if you ask if Putin is a threat to other dominant countries, i have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.. Till then~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-2479682303275835742?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/2479682303275835742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=2479682303275835742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2479682303275835742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/2479682303275835742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/01/so-far_18.html' title='So Far~'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-5884015170064535056</id><published>2008-01-17T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T22:57:17.322+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolution</title><content type='html'>I'm not a blog person, but seriously i don't have nothing to do to kill the time that's left of me here until the day i return home. So, here goes nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, i still have khin siong to help me escape from my boredom, temporarily. For the last couple of days, all i've done revolve around visiting his place, hanging out with my other friends before they go, and doing a lil bit of work out. I know this kinda lifestyle is pathetic but it's necessary though, i mean the spending time with friends part. We are gonna part with each other when the time for us to get together runs out. i know it's not like the end of the world and i 'm obviously exaggerating but still, they've played quite a part in my life and i hope those memories that we've shared will stay rooted in my mind for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's been a year since i first stepped my feet on this place called Sydney. Well, not exactly a year. Nevertheless, i realized that time really does fly and if you are up against time in a race, you'll always end up being the loser no matter how fast and furious you can get. I remember during the first couple of months here, i kept counting down the number of MONTHS left until the day i finally get to be back with my Bobby. And now, i don't even feel like counting down the number of DAYs left bla bla bla... how ironic things sometimes can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is, i've been troubled for the past few days by this self-evaluation of what i've really achieved after going through a period as long as eight months here. To tell you the truth, it's been disappointing. I'm still far from the goals that i've set for myself in the very early stages. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Communication &amp; Socialisation&lt;br /&gt;I did make heaps of friends. Sadly, it's not the buddy and buddy type, but the 'hi bro, how's it going? cya man~' type. Therefore, does that really count? I hope so, even though i don't even know all their names. Lucky for me that i'm more of the sporty type through which my circle of friends widens. I joined the indoor soccer tournament from which i get to know lots of dudes who share the same passion for soccer with me. Besides, i'm lucky enough to have a cousin who is good at friends-bonding. I get to hang out with his friends and at the end of the day, my friends. However, that is obviously taking me nowhere as far as my goal is concerned. I'm looking forward to joining a club or organisation next year by which i believe will boost my socialising skills and confidence when dealing with speakers with profound language proficiency. So, it is now clear to all that one of my goals is to bring my language proficiency to a totally different level where very few can reach, for if you carry the capability to intimidate people with words alone, you are already in an advantageous position in almost every circumstance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Untouchable&lt;br /&gt;She is the one whom i have my eyes on since our very first acquaintance. It happened when i was actually standing behind her in a queue for the chicken kebab on the orientation day. What has really caught my attention is the way she handles herself when it comes to talking. Her words are said in the most delicate voice one could ever imagine, as well as with composure and considerable sophistication. She gives me the impression of a gal who has a good judgment at weighing the level of intelligence and absurdity of the words that come out of her lips. She is not the kind of gal who can blabber all day long without realising that she is out of control. She is the kind of gal who knows when and where to stop, without irritating the people she is around with. This is definitely one of the gals' secret weapon to hold their men down. Otherwise, i guarantee you gals will be of no value at all after you and your men have had 'you know what'. Well, i know i'm making a huge statement here, sorry if i've offended anyone but don't you think i have a point right there? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, let's move on. I love her KL english accent. Not the broken pua chu kang singlish, but the typical yet perfect malaysian english. I could tell that she's a KL-ian after overhearing the KL-ian accent of hers in her conversation with her friends. But one thing puzzled me for months and that was she doesnt speak chinese, which rules out the possibility of her being a malaysian chinese. However, pieces of the puzzle were able to be constructed into one piece when i finally found out (through words of mouth, not stalking) that she IS a malaysian and the reason why she doesnt speak chinese lies on the fact that she used to study in an international school where english is their first language. That sounds impressive right, i know. This is certainly a big fish, XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But dear oL my, i've got a hell of a lot to prove to myself that there's no gap whatsoever between us. Because it seems to me that she's much more superior than i am in almost every aspect. She's the sporty kinda gal, who loves belunda whales, horse ridding, quad biking and a whole lot down the list. As far as my lifestlye is concerned, i feel like we are from two different worlds and that is what intimidates me most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still to come.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-5884015170064535056?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/5884015170064535056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=5884015170064535056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5884015170064535056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/5884015170064535056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2008/01/resolution.html' title='Resolution'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-6675358085878946082</id><published>2006-08-26T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T12:06:24.014+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intimidating</title><content type='html'>U think ur skills r sooooo very impressive?? Think again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Futsal Skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/138370/futsal_skills.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/138370/futsal_skills/"&gt;Futsal Skills - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indoor Soccer Skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/117044/amazing_indoor_soccer_skills.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/117044/amazing_indoor_soccer_skills/"&gt;Amazing Indoor Soccer Skills - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memolinho Vs Apolao&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/217498/memolinho_vs_apolao_ii.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/217498/memolinho_vs_apolao_ii/"&gt;Memolinho Vs Apolao  II - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ronaldinho's Skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/126244/ronaldinho_skills.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/126244/ronaldinho_skills/"&gt;Ronaldinho Skills - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C.Ronaldo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/131168/cristiano_ronaldo.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/131168/cristiano_ronaldo/"&gt;Cristiano Ronaldo - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6675358085878946082?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6675358085878946082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6675358085878946082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6675358085878946082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6675358085878946082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2006/08/intimidating.html' title='Intimidating'/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</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-8906084051144919006.post-6495102228314016450</id><published>2006-08-26T22:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T22:51:18.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Check these out!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT LAUGH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/128811/do_not_laugh.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/128811/do_not_laugh/"&gt;Do Not Laugh - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D Shaolin Of China&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/219603/the_chaolin_of_china.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/219603/the_chaolin_of_china/"&gt;The Chaolin of China - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doggy Style&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/167108/doggy_style.swf" width="400" height="300" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/167108/doggy_style/"&gt;Doggy Style - video powered by Metacafe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8906084051144919006-6495102228314016450?l=tengsaaron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/feeds/6495102228314016450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8906084051144919006&amp;postID=6495102228314016450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6495102228314016450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8906084051144919006/posts/default/6495102228314016450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tengsaaron.blogspot.com/2006/08/check-these-out-do-not-laugh-do-not.html' title=''/><author><name>aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17465064889606300207</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
