<?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-996208619450719126</id><updated>2012-01-28T00:35:38.157+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be moved</title><subtitle type='html'>The Life of a 17 year old boy.
simplified into a tiny webpage. =)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>194</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-272236842692897574</id><published>2012-01-28T00:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T00:35:38.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I'm lost. I have no motivation at all to do anything to improve my future. I'm a failure. My parents don't want me anymore and my mom told me to leave the house. Tough life. I have non to blame for myself for not studying every time. I don't know what to do now. One thing is for sure is...&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-272236842692897574?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/272236842692897574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-lost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/272236842692897574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/272236842692897574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-lost.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4147142615802250299</id><published>2012-01-20T23:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T23:31:20.768+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I miss you. I miss calling you mine. I miss calling you my baby. I miss calling you Superwoman. I miss calling you my baby girl. I miss everything. Especially the hugs and the heartwarming talks. I miss you so much.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4147142615802250299?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4147142615802250299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4147142615802250299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4147142615802250299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6929864430323739369</id><published>2012-01-15T20:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T20:47:36.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Actually yesterday during our 9 month anniversary, I wanted to tell you I missed you too. But.. in order to make you forget me quickly, I needed to treated you like I have forgotten and gave up on you. Sorry baby doll... :'( thank you for texting me yesterday, I was the happiest man alive and I know how hard it took for you to send that text to me. Love you! &amp;lt;3&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6929864430323739369?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6929864430323739369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/actually-yesterday-during-our-9-month.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6929864430323739369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6929864430323739369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/actually-yesterday-during-our-9-month.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4358464126430547894</id><published>2012-01-15T18:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T18:58:22.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yah.. i know im not the best boyfriend in the world.. tq for judging me but spare a thought for the things i did for you that i didn't want to tell you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4358464126430547894?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4358464126430547894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/yah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4358464126430547894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4358464126430547894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/yah.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7601474481448465495</id><published>2012-01-14T18:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T18:43:38.568+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy 9 months anniversary! I thought it was going to be a great day but, again it wasn't. Anyway, wish you all the best with you and your peers and your life.. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7601474481448465495?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7601474481448465495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-9-months-anniversary-i-thought-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7601474481448465495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7601474481448465495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-9-months-anniversary-i-thought-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8016810992287362091</id><published>2012-01-13T23:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T23:03:51.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I went pass by you today. No, I did not see you. But I was very happy and touched because I know are hearts were so close to each other for a very long time. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8016810992287362091?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8016810992287362091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-went-pass-by-you-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8016810992287362091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8016810992287362091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-went-pass-by-you-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7915217538476070023</id><published>2012-01-12T20:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T21:52:07.903+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy 40 weeks anniversary!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit : You made me sad :(&lt;br /&gt;:'( why u cheat me :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7915217538476070023?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7915217538476070023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-40-weeks-anniversary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7915217538476070023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7915217538476070023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-40-weeks-anniversary.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4496436005866750711</id><published>2012-01-10T21:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T21:34:50.052+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Remember our little sheep and what you used to call me? Well I still remember! Hehehhe. Gonna have a good talk with you now before I sleep. Have fun without me okay..&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-xDpsookfWTI/Tww-d9Uo39I/AAAAAAAAAYo/_jq16cHHENs/1326202459184.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'&gt;&lt;img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-xDpsookfWTI/Tww-d9Uo39I/AAAAAAAAAYo/_jq16cHHENs/s288/1326202459184.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 288px;'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4496436005866750711?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4496436005866750711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/remember-our-little-sheep-and-what-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4496436005866750711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4496436005866750711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/remember-our-little-sheep-and-what-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-xDpsookfWTI/Tww-d9Uo39I/AAAAAAAAAYo/_jq16cHHENs/s72-c/1326202459184.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4361904800936485486</id><published>2012-01-09T11:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T11:28:58.659+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-vS3c8VHDh7I/Twpe91lWSwI/AAAAAAAAAYI/9HTJ6gOpDuc/1326079714856.png' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'&gt;&lt;img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-vS3c8VHDh7I/Twpe91lWSwI/AAAAAAAAAYI/9HTJ6gOpDuc/s288/1326079714856.png' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 288px;'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Technically my phone's screen saver.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4361904800936485486?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4361904800936485486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/technically-my-phones-screen-saver.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4361904800936485486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4361904800936485486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/technically-my-phones-screen-saver.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-vS3c8VHDh7I/Twpe91lWSwI/AAAAAAAAAYI/9HTJ6gOpDuc/s72-c/1326079714856.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8240574488721357698</id><published>2012-01-08T19:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T19:40:14.587+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love you Joan Lim :( I still miss you. I still want you. I still miss everything we did together. I love you my baby girl. &amp;lt;3 but i know we are not meant to be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8240574488721357698?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8240574488721357698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-love-you-joan-lim-i-still-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8240574488721357698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8240574488721357698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-love-you-joan-lim-i-still-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5164309107590791570</id><published>2012-01-05T09:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T09:17:15.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you only knew</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;If you only knew what I went through for you.. I wish I could tell you, but, no.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5164309107590791570?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5164309107590791570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-you-only-knew.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5164309107590791570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5164309107590791570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-you-only-knew.html' title='If you only knew'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4030343273629641674</id><published>2012-01-03T23:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T23:50:44.391+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Testing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I am blogging this through my phone. Testing new app on new phone. Testing.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'&gt;posted from &lt;a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'&gt;Bloggeroid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4030343273629641674?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4030343273629641674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/testing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4030343273629641674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4030343273629641674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2012/01/testing.html' title='Testing'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5501991106919837166</id><published>2011-12-29T21:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T21:30:12.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loss</title><content type='html'>Heavy loss for one. A huge load of pain is lifted off for the other one. I'm happy with my decision. Thought it through for a long time. And this one will make you happier. I'm sure of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5501991106919837166?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5501991106919837166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/loss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5501991106919837166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5501991106919837166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/loss.html' title='Loss'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2179205627316607008</id><published>2011-12-25T20:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T20:49:27.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss You All the Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="So I made that awesome girl a drawing... Girls love drawings" src="http://d24w6bsrhbeh9d.cloudfront.net/photo/1255819_700b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2179205627316607008?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2179205627316607008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/miss-you-all-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2179205627316607008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2179205627316607008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/miss-you-all-day.html' title='Miss You All the Day.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1502660890126001830</id><published>2011-12-05T14:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T15:02:34.461+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 – A song to match your mood.</title><content type='html'>Hmmm I have been feeling blue for about a week or so now. And I think the song that most probably matches my mood is;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ePQe5E69INg" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is a really good song on how two people have met in the past but due to some unfortunate incident which caused one of them to die, they were forced to separate and the one who lived got married but he/she still could not forget the memories spent with her true love. Anyway, the lyrics tells it all!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This song really gets me everytime. It is a beautiful song, sang by a beautiful singer but one comment is. This song has a top comment on Youtube which brings a point, " I think this song has too much potential, but I don't think she is a strong enough singer to pull this kind of song off. Also, the drums are too loud. " I agree with it. But yet, it is still a really good song which can describe anyone's mood who just went through a break up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;PS: Sorry for not blogging for 3 days straight. My computer had no internet so everything had to be delayed. :( I'm sorry. See you guys soon for Day 9.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1502660890126001830?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1502660890126001830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-8-song-to-match-your-mood.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1502660890126001830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1502660890126001830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-8-song-to-match-your-mood.html' title='Day 8 – A song to match your mood.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ePQe5E69INg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2665273188292931775</id><published>2011-12-05T14:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T14:54:30.355+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7 – Your dream wedding.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;My dream wedding. Hmm, I want my wedding to be like how it was in Twilight. It was so cool to have a wedding like that. But thinking it again, neh. I want something more original. Having it outdoors in a must. Maybe a sunset wedding near the beach so I could take awesome sunset wedding pictures with my wife. My wife would wear the most beautiful wedding gown ever accompanied by her dad down the aisle. I would be wearing black because white just does not suit me at all. Grey would be nice? The best man and the flower girls must dress the same and they must be couples as well. So sweet and unique at the same time. Getting experience before they get married. After the wedding dinner and everything is all done, I would go for a slow dance with my wife under the moonlight. That would be cool and romantic and I can feel the love of the both of us. :) Yeahhh that's about it :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2665273188292931775?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2665273188292931775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-7-your-dream-wedding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2665273188292931775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2665273188292931775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-7-your-dream-wedding.html' title='Day 7 – Your dream wedding.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6717748959441367851</id><published>2011-12-05T14:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T14:47:16.865+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 06 - A photo of an animal you would keep as a pet.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img height="320" id="il_fi" src="http://images.pictureshunt.com/pics/b/basset_hound-12658.jpg_w450" style="background-color: white; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="246" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hound! Yes a hound ! I would so have a hound as my pet dog. It could be my best friend. Hounds are so cute because they are so cute and have short legs but a long body which makes them even cuter. Not to mention their long ears. I used to have a hound when I was 10. But then my dad had to give it away to a foreigner because it was too naughty and my mom hated pets. :( Don't worry! I will have a pet when I have a house to myself :D Maybe I would change pets then. Hmmmm, anyhow I would still want a pet. It makes the house more lively.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6717748959441367851?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6717748959441367851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-06-photo-of-animal-you-would-keep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6717748959441367851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6717748959441367851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-06-photo-of-animal-you-would-keep.html' title='Day 06 - A photo of an animal you would keep as a pet.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4340824126428120916</id><published>2011-12-02T23:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T00:00:46.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5 – How important you think education is?</title><content type='html'>Education. Education is really an important thing I think. Well at least it is important to me, because I'm Asian and Asians have this mindset to have a really good education so that people will see them as a very successful fella. When most people hear about this topic being mentioned, they will reply, "Who cares?" I mean like are you serious?!&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Well guess what! Your future cares okay! If you have a shitty education, oh I can tell you that you are going to live a shitty life, failing to find your life partner and, possibly living with your parents till you are mid 30s working in McDonalds. Do you want a life like that? I guess not.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Even people in movies who act like school is just a chore went to school and now they’re filthy rich and you have to pay money just go see them in a movie! Don’t you want to be that person that people pay to see? Education is hard but imagine what you life will be like in the future. Homework is a pain but it helps you get better. You can also get an education anywhere and not just in school. If you don’t want an education then you need some help because that’s a&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;stupid decision. This is how I think :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Now let me entertain you with some... wait no videos from Youtube today because I have been really busy with school. I might not have any time to blog tomorrow but we'll see!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4340824126428120916?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4340824126428120916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-5-how-important-you-think-education.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4340824126428120916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4340824126428120916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-5-how-important-you-think-education.html' title='Day 5 – How important you think education is?'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8952794314469874980</id><published>2011-12-01T20:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T20:27:33.527+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 04 - Your favourite photograph of your best friend.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/163986_480631189822_766549822_6023781_6754432_n.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Clifern. He's like one of my best friends. Been friends since 3-4 years old. Lost contact for 6-7 years due to different class but reunited again in the same class with I was in Form 2. He's like an all time good friend. Always happy and never frown, though I seen him cried before. He's a good listener and looks at love at many perspective like many people don't. He always helps me when I'm in need or just needs a good laugh. He now has a girlfriend but, HE IS STILL MINE FOREVER. &amp;gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img height="320" src="https://fbcdn-photos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/378917_10150418072327860_814642859_8152873_1988307793_a.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is Gregory. One of my best buddies too. Been really good friends with him for 6-7 years now. Assigned to the same class since the first day of school. Really good fella and we both teased each other as well. HAHA. I was always there when he is in time of need, and vice versa. He understands me and I understand him. We meet almost everyday, like maybe 6 times a week. HAHAHA I know. It's like brotherly love but yeah, that's the fact. His birthday just past and I just want to wish him Happy Birthday again. So, Happy Birthday dude! All the best in your life!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: I have more good friend but there is no point to list all of em' because they are technically the same..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a shoutout to, Soo Jer Yenn and Jeremy Lim. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me entertain you with a really SEXY video I found shared on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/h3SLAar1Rbo" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you tomorrow for Day 05.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;I did not like what you uploaded today. I thought we had a chance. But then, I THINK you went out with him. Which technically ruined my day and I will cry myself to sleep again. Like everyday other day and wake up in tears. I love you and I still love you Joan. My love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8952794314469874980?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8952794314469874980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-04-your-favourite-photograph-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8952794314469874980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8952794314469874980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-04-your-favourite-photograph-of.html' title='Day 04 - Your favourite photograph of your best friend.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/h3SLAar1Rbo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1828604683837830676</id><published>2011-11-30T17:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T17:42:31.987+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 03 - Your idea of a perfect first date.</title><content type='html'>My idea of a perfect first date, first of course, both me and the lady has to look and smell good as hygiene is really important.&amp;nbsp;I too also like girl to have long straight natural hair because I like girls with long straight hair. :D&amp;nbsp;Then we would maybe go for a movie or something. Actually I don't like the movies because many couples has their first dates like that. I would personally prefer a place like the amusement park. I would not bring her to those thrilling ride unless she wants to. We would just play mini games and I would try my best to win prizes for her and win her heart in the process at well. That would be a great chance for the bond of the relationship to be tighter. But sadly my area doesn't even have an amusement park so the movie would do just right. After the movie/amusement park thing, time for dinner! Technically a Italian or a western cuisine will do. Would order my appetizer, entree, and desserts and have a good talk with her. I like when my lady responds to the topic at hand and try to let it live as long as possible. I too like if she starts to talk about herself and her family. That would be really good use in the future! After dinner, I would take her to the beach or just on top of a hill to see the stars. Over there I would try to express myself on how much I love her and cuddle with her and kiss her forehead telling her that she's beautiful and really amazing. End the night by sending her home and give her those cliche but true quotes about the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, pratically my view on how a perfect first date could be.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking about beaches/amusement parks, malls are good as well.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this may not be your view of a perfect first date, if you think it is a perfect date, then it is a perfect date. As simple as that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, and see you tomorrow for day 04. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1828604683837830676?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1828604683837830676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-03-your-idea-of-perfect-first-date.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1828604683837830676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1828604683837830676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-03-your-idea-of-perfect-first-date.html' title='Day 03 - Your idea of a perfect first date.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7291078212978868563</id><published>2011-11-29T16:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T16:24:32.277+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 02 - Your favourite movie</title><content type='html'>Day 2 already? Oh well. School ended fast today too. :O&lt;div&gt;My favourite movie?! One has got to be Inception :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61Ug%2BK8o5FL._AA300_.jpg" id="il_fi" height="300" width="300" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As you can see, it is headed by Leornado Di-Caprio. Sorry if I spelt it wrong. I'm not good with Italian/French names. :( Anyway, this is a really good movie as it surprises you every single time with its' concept about that you can go 5 levels of dreams. Like when you are dreaming, you can dream, and so on.. Makes me wonder, if we die, will be wake up from a dream as well? Mind fuck? ;) This movie is really good!! I give it like a 10/10 because it was just too epic and awesome. Watch it 3 times and wouldn't mind watching it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.wikia.com/harrypotter/images/c/cd/Tt0241527_largeCover.jpg" id="il_fi" height="589" width="397" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.hauntedhouses.com/photos-movies/cover-harrypotter2.jpg" id="il_fi" height="329" width="252" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.altiusdirectory.com/Entertainment/images/Harry%20Potter%20and%20the%20Prisoner%20of%20Azkaban%20movie.jpg" id="il_fi" height="375" width="275" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/c/c9/Harry_Potter_and_the_Goblet_of_Fire_Poster.jpg/220px-Harry_Potter_and_the_Goblet_of_Fire_Poster.jpg" id="il_fi" height="325" width="220" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRsfvPOs5QO3XjAf0boPMY_CIpjU72AFjsm0qxD2aKZSXpEAjjOi71_j9M-lA" id="il_fi" height="253" width="171" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.megaleecher.net/uploads/harry-potter-the-half-blood-prince.jpg" id="il_fi" height="415" width="281" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRBLrwjApGglfZfSmu5K9cD7rhGtIZsooPsYqNYcuzMpX66SNDlCo27U8jnVQ" id="il_fi" height="253" width="171" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRSbmPL19Uzm6clQrtSYfnEW7ZY4gsIDLRUiO-ik5PPWyp1abDzGn_GGhf6qw" id="il_fi" height="273" width="184" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Harry potter too is in the list of my favourite movies. I mean who doesn't like Harry Potter? It's a really good movie about spells and I love how the plot builds up towards the end of the story. Really good really good. I have watched all of the movie but only read the first 4 of the 8 books in the series. I wish I could read all of them but I am too lazy to do it. :( *Sorry if the you guys can't see the posters carefully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now, let me entertain you with a new music video I found on Youtube. Really good song. Credits to brodiesmith21 for letting me hit this up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Im-_PLVQBi0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That is it for today!! stay tune for day 3 :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7291078212978868563?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7291078212978868563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-02-your-favourite-movie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7291078212978868563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7291078212978868563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-02-your-favourite-movie.html' title='Day 02 - Your favourite movie'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Im-_PLVQBi0/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-331356508672122727</id><published>2011-11-28T21:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T21:40:59.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heyyy!</title><content type='html'>Heyy how have you been doing? &lt;div&gt;Do you still have feelings for me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because I still do..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in this life, we were not meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-331356508672122727?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/331356508672122727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/heyyy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/331356508672122727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/331356508672122727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/heyyy.html' title='Heyyy!'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1634689218046776985</id><published>2011-11-28T13:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T14:18:02.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 - My favourite song</title><content type='html'>Hello guys, I'm starting this 30-day-blog-challenge thing because I'm really bored and this is my first post for this challenge after my half-final examination.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thief in the Night - David Choi ; A really touching song that always get my every single time. Fell in love with it the second time I heard it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1JJxwC6S4wk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Miserable at best - Mayday Parade ; A song which describes my flaws as a person(in terms of love). Fell in love with the band's song but this has got to be my best. Hits me every time! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/frk3L8mVQNk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are about it. Also, I adore songs about 5 years in the past. They are much more meaningful and hits the heart more than songs these days. See you tomorrow for Day 2!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1634689218046776985?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1634689218046776985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-1-my-favourite-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1634689218046776985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1634689218046776985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-1-my-favourite-song.html' title='Day 1 - My favourite song'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/1JJxwC6S4wk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1706200213022036711</id><published>2011-09-07T22:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T22:56:42.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just can't it go.</title><content type='html'>There's something that has been bothering me since it happen. I just can't seem to forget them. They seem to come back and haunt me. It's something that she did to me a few months ago. So, on her birthday, her classmates and good friends together with me and my friend went to her house to surprise her with gifts and cakes. My present was, cookies, cakes and flowers. Okay, so some of her friends and I sneaked into her house and waited for her. Long wait. From 7-8 in her hot kitchen with the lights off. So skipping forward, her friends managed to surprise her and a cake. Then it was my turn to surprise her with the flowers. She was speechless. Okay then picture taken with all her friends and me. I gave her the box of cookies too. Privately :) Then we all went out, for chit-chat. We didn't talk much for the whole night. I understood because of her friends and I didn't took the initiative to. When all of her friends left, I apologize for not talking much to her during her surprise and told her how serious I was in the relationship. She said she trusted me. I was really glad to hear that! Head over heels. The next day she posted up what she got for her birthday, non of them were mine. Okay I understand. Private relationship like we promised. No pictures of me as well. Okay understood. Then it hit me. Her friends gave a present with a bra in it and she said it was the best present she had? Did you know how sad was I? I cried that night but I didn't want to tell her about it. And the cookies, she never commented anything about it.Yet, I never complained at all. But it breaks my heart you know.  Then come Sunday, she said she wanted to take a break in our relationship. I was like.. @.@? Confused as fuck. She said she trusted me? But this?! Of course I denied it and eventually she skipped me with a different topic leaving that one hanging. On the next Sunday 11am. She broke up with me. She said that I was a really good man and can see that I really love her. She also said that she likes me, she doesn't love me. Since that day, I was haunted by that sentence. I couldn't eat I couldn't sleep. I have no mood for studying, skip dinners and all the things you expect a heartbroken guy to do. I acted like it was okay though. Put a smile on my face. It was tough and I manage to do it. 2 weeks passed and we texted again. Not sure how or why. But we did. I told her how I felt about us breaking up, how I cry just thinking about it. The pain was just unbearable. Then it happen, she admitted she regretted breaking up with me. She said that she broke up with me because she thought she didn't deserve me. Then it got me to think, so it was a lie? That sentence was a lie? She lied to me? After all my honesty, she lied to me? I told her i can not trust her anymore and if she wants to be with me again, she needs to gain my trust towards her again. But out of all that, I asked her to be my girlfriend again after 2 weeks. 3rd time ready. I hope everything will work out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1706200213022036711?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1706200213022036711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-just-can-it-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1706200213022036711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1706200213022036711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-just-can-it-go.html' title='I just can&amp;#39;t it go.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4036600838346483997</id><published>2011-09-03T23:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T23:55:48.959+08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's leaving</title><content type='html'>Hello, as I am writing this. I just want to tell you guys that I've got a girlfriend. :) although she broke up with me twice, I stood by what I said and got her back for the third time. I just want to say that she's leaving next year to Adelaide. As soon as I heard that she bought her school uniform, my heart sank. No don't get me wrong. I knew this a long time ago. But I'm just not ready for it. I can't even sleep. Not even for 10&lt;br /&gt;minutes. I can't believe she's leaving like next year. I just cannot accept it. It hurts so much you know? I barely get to see her and now she is leaving to Adelaide next year. What am I suppose to do? It's just too hard.. Tears just keep coming down as I think of this. And I wanted to cry when I see her just now. But I just held in because I don't want to tell her how weak of a person I am. :( she may not be the best person, but she's good enough for me. I wish I could spend time with her more often though. It's not easy it's not easy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost for words now... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4036600838346483997?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4036600838346483997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/09/she-leaving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4036600838346483997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4036600838346483997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/09/she-leaving.html' title='She&amp;#39;s leaving'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4075972442959618650</id><published>2011-07-07T21:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T21:17:12.628+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting loose</title><content type='html'>My relationship with my parents are getting worse and worse as days go by. Constantly quarreling with my mom and I hardly communicate with em. It's not that I don't want to, but I think it's was meant to be like it. I can't get along with my mom because she has a mind of an Asian and I always and I mean always think different with her. Conflicts always start from there. For example, she always say that to have better chance of getting girls. I need to have lots and lots of money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? Mom? You mindset is like that? I'm sad. Not all relationships need to have money in em. To me, being in a successful relationship means being happy, a place where I can be myself and still loves me. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for my dad, sigh. He's always been a grumpy guy. Hardly talks to me :/ and when everytime he does, it's like world war III is going to start. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish my family was not like this. Well, anyhow, they are still my family and I still love every bit of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah. I started Facebook again. It pulled me back because of it's Facebook Skype addition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. Tomorrow again! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm feeling down again because of her. But I just have to accept that she's busy busy busy. There is nothing I can do and wait. I know my effort won't go to waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4075972442959618650?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4075972442959618650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/07/getting-loose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4075972442959618650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4075972442959618650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/07/getting-loose.html' title='Getting loose'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6098231092569425298</id><published>2011-07-06T07:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T07:17:14.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Hi guys! As you all know, I'm back into the blogging industry. Actually I came back because I forced myself to quit Facebook. So I ended up here ranting about this and that. Ahahaha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates updates updates. I wish I could update you. But I think someone would like to keep a secret. Anyway, I'm not in a single status anymore. Yes, I'm in a relationship. I think a number of friends has seen it yesterday hahaha! Because it was her birthday yesterday :) I'm really happy that she's happy and we sorted things out near to the end of the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna stop here for now. See you guys tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6098231092569425298?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6098231092569425298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6098231092569425298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6098231092569425298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-back.html' title='I&amp;#39;m back!'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1433651887884828489</id><published>2011-04-27T19:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T19:31:19.322+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday</title><content type='html'>How can I smile when the one I love isn't even smiling at all? Instead she's in tears. Oh my, what am I to do? She didn't want to tell me so that puts me to thi k that she's okay with it. But I think she isn't? Should I jump in and help? But i to am Abit nervous about it because everytime I try to help people I love. I ended up mlaking it worse. Sigh. What am I to do? What can this emo boy do to make his love one smile again?! Ahhhhh... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be your Mr.Right..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1433651887884828489?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1433651887884828489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/wednesday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1433651887884828489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1433651887884828489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/wednesday.html' title='Wednesday'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2935240297357601932</id><published>2011-04-26T11:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T11:54:11.465+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Hi everyone. I'm trying out this new iPhone app where I go I still can blog. It cool because I could write more and therefore express more &lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/e/57431.gif' border='0' align='left' /&gt; So.. Need to be emo then can write post hah! Goodbye all ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=KK,%20Sabah&amp;z=10'&gt;KK, Sabah&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2935240297357601932?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2935240297357601932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/test.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2935240297357601932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2935240297357601932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/test.html' title='Test'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2773162546319029227</id><published>2011-04-25T21:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T21:13:49.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life so far</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2773162546319029227?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2773162546319029227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/life-so-far.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2773162546319029227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2773162546319029227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/life-so-far.html' title='Life so far'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7620166643596896181</id><published>2011-04-01T21:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T21:49:54.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'>God Speak For Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oy086QZ3ug4/TZXXuhnxqzI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Hf4ofnUV0Tg/s1600/iphone_wallpaper.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oy086QZ3ug4/TZXXuhnxqzI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Hf4ofnUV0Tg/s320/iphone_wallpaper.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590611706749496114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;God speaks for people like me. The ones who are different, misunderstood, have a hard time making friends, make mistakes, are sometimes a little unsure, who have been hurt many times by others, who accept who they are. have taught me to love who I am, never﻿ back down to the people who do me wrong and make me want to hate my self, to love who I am, reminded me that being different is fun, faith, and to always believe that things can and will be better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just a short post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;PS: Post with pictures are post that regards about my life. The ones without it are all stories. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;PSS: Get lost haters. Shoo.&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/996208619450719126-7620166643596896181?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7620166643596896181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-speak-for-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7620166643596896181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7620166643596896181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-speak-for-me.html' title='God Speak For Me.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oy086QZ3ug4/TZXXuhnxqzI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Hf4ofnUV0Tg/s72-c/iphone_wallpaper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5214341814654759141</id><published>2011-02-17T21:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T21:27:56.197+08:00</updated><title type='text'>People I love</title><content type='html'>I was on twitter and while I was reading through the tweets, I saw Joshua Ho's tweet about him writing a note of people who he love and he challenges us to write a love post on the people I love. The ending went accidentally like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I challenge you to dedicate a love post to people that you love. People you are grateful for. Acknowledge them. Let them know they're loved. Because people wants people to love them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, the person that I loved the most has got to be the one and only almighty God. You know, without our heavenly father, none of us would even be here. Well, about 3 to 4 years ago, I was so love sick. I needed love so bad you know? (DESPO) I loved this girl but I am incapable of doing anything so. And all my friends are in a solid relationship excluding me. Well, that made me kind of an atheist? I don't know. I just did not believe that God will help us out. I knew he was there. But he's just THERE. Doing nothing but staring at us. BUT BUT BUT ! When I was in a relationship, I found out that He was there the whole time. At times when I feel so devastated, so lonely and so.. whatever sad emotion you could think of. I would automatically talk Him. Instantly, I knew that through thick or thin, no matter rain or shine You'll always be there for me. So I love my God. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, my parents. Erm, start off with my dad. My dad is the type of person who is very impatient and hot-tempered. He always comes home at late at night. Mostly around 2am at the very least. So it is pretty obvious we talk really less. He also don't really socialize much with the family. Besides, meeting him is a nono. The only time we can interact is on Sunday. Unfortunately, even on that day, we have nothing to talk about. It is like, what my dad like. I don't like. Vice Versa. But, my dad has another way of showing his love and affection towards the family. He normally buys new gadgets for the family. I think he's not spoiling me or anything. But I think it is his way of showing his love you know ? And I love him for that. :) Now my mom, in my opinion my mom too is also impatient and hot-tempered. But she talks to me a lot. Because she picks me up from school and brings me for tea in the afternoon. Sadly, she's really narrow minded though. Mainly because she comes from a Chinese background. So until now she still thinks that I do not know the meaning of sex, speaking vulgar and all those. I'm sorry mom, this is norm to me and we're evolving. Anyway, she's a really good person and I thank her for bringing me to this world ! :D&lt;br /&gt;And my dad too :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for my peers. My friends are the best things that happened in my life. They never ever fail to make me smile. They are so funny, so open minded, so sporting, etc. They are always there for me when I'm at my weakest and my strongest. My bond with them is getting stronger everyday second. Without them, I wouldn't really be called Isaac Leong. It is because of them I have stray away from cigarettes, drugs, and all those negative stuffs. It is because of them I knew a lot about love. Words cannot express how much I appreciate their help. And the only thing I can do to repay their debt is to offer my help to them like they offered their help to me !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, these are roughly about the people I love. And you ! The readers I love you too ? HAHAH I'm not gay fyi. So, who do you love ? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5214341814654759141?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5214341814654759141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/02/people-i-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5214341814654759141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5214341814654759141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/02/people-i-love.html' title='People I love'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8290257801969421667</id><published>2011-01-04T15:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T15:40:00.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New School</title><content type='html'>Hi guys ! It has been about 2 and a half months since I last blogged. Pretty long time. I was too caught up in my SPM and having my vacation and so on so forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm here because I'm in a new school now. IS ! I'm a college freshman now! Man, that sounds so cool. COLLEGE baby, COLLEGE. We're having our orientation week now. Haven't been doing any real studying yet so I can't wait tomorrow since we are learning :D I too also am taking the so-called hardest subject in A-levels which is Further Mathematics. That made me nervous but I think I'm gonna be fine because.. I love maths ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Also, I'm a bit freak out that people from other continents are viewing my blog :X&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8290257801969421667?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8290257801969421667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8290257801969421667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8290257801969421667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-school.html' title='New School'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-707802056976829555</id><published>2010-10-27T17:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T17:38:01.555+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The nature of sleeping</title><content type='html'>Here is a little something I wrote during my examination. Just wanted to share with you guys :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The definition of sleeping is commonly known as a period where one takes some time off from their everyday life to regenerate themselves. Statistics shows that sleeping is one of the highest stress reliever activities in the world. That is why, everyone should sleep, at least 8 hours a day. Unfortunately, a number of people have sleeping problems or many call it as a 'sleeping disorder'. Now, what is this so-called sleeping disorder?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   A sleep disorder is where one is unable to sleep or is having a very hard time doing it. Research shows that sleep disorder are fairly common among teenagers and working adults. This is because at that moment of their life, teens and working adults are having extreme pressure. Studying, future, love as some of the factors of stress for teens while money, outstanding bills, family are some primary factors of stress for working adults. These stress causes insomnia, a common sleep disorder that is known worldwide. Insomnia happens when someone is unable to sleep. Insomnia can go both ways. It can go either short term or chronic. If is is short-term, good for you, you would not have to worry that much. But, if it is chronic, one will experience a very severe change in time zones, sleep schedules and have poor bed time habits. They would not know when it is night or day. They would also only sleep if they have no more energy left in them and they most probably will sleep for just a couple of hours because of the stress and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   One of the effects of having sleeping disorder is that it causes sleepy driving. This sleepy driving can cause serious accidents or injuries not only to one self, but also to others who are driving. All of this happen due to the lack of sleep. Moving over, another effect of having sleep disorders is that it affects with work, concentration and social activities. When you are at work, I'm pretty sure that you will doze off every 5 minutes and that will endanger your career now wouldn't it ? Adding to that, when interacting with your friends and loved ones, you will not be able to catch what you are trying to receive. Sometimes, when someone wants to speak to you, you will instantly crack, get moody and blindly swear at everyone at everything that causes problems around you. Blaming them at everything they do, including machines. Also, having a problem with sleep disorder, your liver will experience serious damage because if you sleep late, you damage your live, what more if you can't sleep at all ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Now, there are many ways to overcome problems like this. One of the more modern ways is to consult a doctor to evaluate your health. By doing this, doctors will know how serious your sleep disorder is and will prescribed you will tranquilizer-like-medicine that will make you sleep for sure. You also can go for treatment that includes identifying the types of behavior that worsen insomnia. At the very least, you can understand and respond to what you are dealing with. And if you are having emotional problems, you can go for an anger management. You can also feed yourself with sleeping pills which can be easily located at a pharmacy. This is not very good as these pills contain drugs and is not recommended by doctors. But still, it is also a good way to sleep. Moving on, if you really need a long sleep and you are too lazy to consult a doctor, one can also try taking in traditional medicine. Traditional medicine has a long history about making you sleep. Plus, it is not harmful to your body. By taking in traditional medicine, you can sleep for up to 16 hours. That is bound to make your sleep disorder go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   In a nutshell, by reading this short article, you should know about the causes, effects and also the ways to overcome the problems that is face by many which is called sleep disorder. With this, I hope you have a clear image of what is the nature of sleep disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There done.&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaa, nothing much to brag about. Just wanted to share. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-707802056976829555?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/707802056976829555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/nature-of-sleeping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/707802056976829555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/707802056976829555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/nature-of-sleeping.html' title='The nature of sleeping'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7805988115614996061</id><published>2010-10-15T14:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T11:42:34.265+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Without You</title><content type='html'>Love is when u take away the feeling,&lt;br /&gt;The passion,&lt;br /&gt;The romance,&lt;br /&gt;And you find out that you still care for that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;The rainbow has lost all color, &lt;br /&gt;No pinks, nor yellow nor blue,&lt;br /&gt;My heart feels as if it is in a desert with no sand,&lt;br /&gt;Without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;The sun has lost its glow,&lt;br /&gt;Knowing I will never see you is more than I can bear to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime full of dreams remain unfulfilled,&lt;br /&gt;The passion and desire you awoke have now been stilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;The ocean now travels backwards towards the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;There simply is no me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;A world that just felt right, &lt;br /&gt;Has become as bleak and dark as midnight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;The joy and laughter have flown south with fall's flock,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing left of destiny except her bitter mock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;I am surrounded by reminders of so many things,&lt;br /&gt;Pain is what each memory brings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;As each moment has passed, &lt;br /&gt;I am haunted by a love that was destined to last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;And the window to such an amazing soul,&lt;br /&gt;The hours will stretch to years,&lt;br /&gt;Until they finally take their toll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;The universe has lost its brightest star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you,&lt;br /&gt;Wherever you are,&lt;br /&gt;Whoever you are,&lt;br /&gt;Whatever you are,&lt;br /&gt;You will always be loved by one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I'm not the best, doesn't mean I am unable to do extraordinary things. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7805988115614996061?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7805988115614996061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/without-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7805988115614996061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7805988115614996061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/without-you.html' title='Without You'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-9136765427310011959</id><published>2010-10-15T14:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T12:06:59.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm just a boy :)</title><content type='html'>Hiding from the rain and snow, trying to forget but won't let go. I constantly reminisce those memories. Staring across at the most crowded street, from my 5 sided window. Listening to my own heartbeat. So many people, all around the world, all I see are people. Happy people. To be exact, happy couples. And me? I realize I am the one who is leftover in this hell-hole. Tell me what am I suppose to do? Tell me where do I go from here? Tell me should I wait? Tell me.. Tell me where do I find someone like you girl? Take me to your heart, take me to your soul, give me your hand before I grow old, tell me what love is. I got no clue about it.&lt;br /&gt;Show me that wonders can be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say no matter how dark the night is, &lt;br /&gt;The sun will always rise again, &lt;br /&gt;I say lost love makes,one realize that no matter how bright the day is,&lt;br /&gt;The sun will always set again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A heart break isn't always as loud as a bomb exploding,&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it can be just saying the wrong word,&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it can be just doing the wrong things, &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it can be as quiet as a feather falling, &lt;br /&gt;And the most painful thing is,&lt;br /&gt;No one really hears it, except you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't make someone love me.&lt;br /&gt;No I can't, And if I can, &lt;br /&gt;I will end up hurting her,&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is be someone who can be there for the one I love,&lt;br /&gt;And the rest is up to the girl that all her sacrifice that she made for me is all worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life,&lt;br /&gt;I'm always searching,&lt;br /&gt;Searching for love,&lt;br /&gt;The love of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many have I loved before,&lt;br /&gt;But it seems I cannot fill up,&lt;br /&gt;The emptiness in my heart,&lt;br /&gt;That my heart wants,&lt;br /&gt;And my heart want is,&lt;br /&gt;The one I truly love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life I have no reason to live, &lt;br /&gt;For I haven’t found my one true love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-9136765427310011959?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/9136765427310011959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-just-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/9136765427310011959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/9136765427310011959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-just-boy.html' title='I&apos;m just a boy :)'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6951948425371923098</id><published>2010-10-03T10:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T10:19:52.372+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peperiksaan Menengah Rendah (PMR)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TKfkofSlAgI/AAAAAAAAAJY/UohfwOJog_k/s1600/59331_435975213010_298051108010_4872701_1152726_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TKfkofSlAgI/AAAAAAAAAJY/UohfwOJog_k/s320/59331_435975213010_298051108010_4872701_1152726_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523634852238524930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hello everyone !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;About 10 days since I last blogged.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sorry, but you know, exams &amp;amp; real life activities and stuff just kept me from blogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nevertheless, I am back to blog again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Not much to say today, maybe it was because of the fact I woke up too early and I was uber boring. - -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;SPM is about 50 days from now. Give or take.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm starting to feel stress now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Like seriously stress, both physically and mentally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First time. D:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There is not enough time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No no no not enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How I wish I could be more hardworking a few months back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hah, hope everything goes well to me during SPM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh yeah, and I do believe that PMR is like happening this coming Tuesday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A big blessing to everyone who is taking their PMR examinations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And of course special blessing to my friends, because.. you are my friend. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I know what you guys may be thinking,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Why is there no updates about love experiences ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't worry, I'll write one when I find one (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I hope I could make a Korea out of this man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Too bad I'm not that good of a writer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6951948425371923098?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6951948425371923098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/peperiksaan-menengah-rendah-pmr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6951948425371923098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6951948425371923098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/10/peperiksaan-menengah-rendah-pmr.html' title='Peperiksaan Menengah Rendah (PMR)'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TKfkofSlAgI/AAAAAAAAAJY/UohfwOJog_k/s72-c/59331_435975213010_298051108010_4872701_1152726_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7445733884969413952</id><published>2010-09-23T14:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T15:22:58.111+08:00</updated><title type='text'>18+ You have been warned.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First of all, I do would like to say that you can stop reading this post if you are able to see the first picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes I do not it is unappealing and an eyesore to some of you guys.&lt;br /&gt;Phobias, nightmare. Whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just want to share this to you guys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This shit may be real or unreal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is clearly up to you guys to believe it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well happy reading and viewing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;18++&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4NZ5hRtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-e93Laouzq4/s1600/Hair-eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4NZ5hRtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-e93Laouzq4/s320/Hair-eyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519997202470094546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is the face that many people dream in their dreams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4M4tUVqI/AAAAAAAAAJA/WN0zX1tTbPo/s1600/emily_rose_final.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4M4tUVqI/AAAAAAAAAJA/WN0zX1tTbPo/s320/emily_rose_final.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519997193560544930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Believe to be said the exorcism of Emily ? Hmmm..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4M4tUVqI/AAAAAAAAAJA/WN0zX1tTbPo/s1600/emily_rose_final.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4MkUDX7I/AAAAAAAAAI4/3TLmfvhKgNM/s1600/deecee_xfiles_girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4MkUDX7I/AAAAAAAAAI4/3TLmfvhKgNM/s320/deecee_xfiles_girl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519997188085866418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4MkUDX7I/AAAAAAAAAI4/3TLmfvhKgNM/s1600/deecee_xfiles_girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture is taken in an Indonesian Hospital during the year 1993.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The photographer wanted to take a picture of the hallway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Having hold of the negatives.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what the found out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr35zbIXKI/AAAAAAAAAIw/310s_3xYkGo/s1600/1279589838956.jpg"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr35YV0EBI/AAAAAAAAAIo/_thER8Hj380/s1600/1256251845155.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr35YV0EBI/AAAAAAAAAIo/_thER8Hj380/s320/1256251845155.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519996858454511634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr35YV0EBI/AAAAAAAAAIo/_thER8Hj380/s1600/1256251845155.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the picture of the suicidal Mickey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Has a story about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;BUT, I'm abit lazy to share it out here because it is so long. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr348-chOI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6DOSXyocPFc/s1600/38454_123622014350463_104916412887690_125460_3053717_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr348-chOI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6DOSXyocPFc/s320/38454_123622014350463_104916412887690_125460_3053717_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519996851108742370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;As we know, this is Squidward from Spongebob Squarepants.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Also has a story about this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Once again, I could not share the story with you guys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is too long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr348-chOI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6DOSXyocPFc/s1600/38454_123622014350463_104916412887690_125460_3053717_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34hTP95I/AAAAAAAAAIY/4tSTbQCmHGo/s1600/464px-Leanback.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34hTP95I/AAAAAAAAAIY/4tSTbQCmHGo/s320/464px-Leanback.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519996843679807378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34hTP95I/AAAAAAAAAIY/4tSTbQCmHGo/s1600/464px-Leanback.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not much about this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just to cool you guys down ? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34Rnm0jI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hnT4cPIcCI4/s1600/400px-1181191329152.jpg"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34Rnm0jI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hnT4cPIcCI4/s1600/400px-1181191329152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34Rnm0jI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hnT4cPIcCI4/s320/400px-1181191329152.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519996839470223922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't be like this after you finish viewing my post :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr35zbIXKI/AAAAAAAAAIw/310s_3xYkGo/s1600/1279589838956.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr35zbIXKI/AAAAAAAAAIw/310s_3xYkGo/s320/1279589838956.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519996865724570786" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 231px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr34Rnm0jI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hnT4cPIcCI4/s1600/400px-1181191329152.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do spread the word. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4N9iqexI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/_evrREcuTbQ/s1600/tumblr_l5eu6dn1QM1qalgrpo1_500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4N9iqexI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/_evrREcuTbQ/s320/tumblr_l5eu6dn1QM1qalgrpo1_500_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519997212037905170" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know some of you would like to read the story about Squidward and Mickey Mouse. Do find me if you can to ask me for the link. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7445733884969413952?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7445733884969413952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/09/18-you-have-been-warned.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7445733884969413952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7445733884969413952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/09/18-you-have-been-warned.html' title='18+ You have been warned.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TJr4NZ5hRtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-e93Laouzq4/s72-c/Hair-eyes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1601274839350347377</id><published>2010-09-11T23:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T23:53:59.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Failed in an epic level.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TIul-o9q6_I/AAAAAAAAAII/Gi8YsZoZMW0/s1600/panel_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 173px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TIul-o9q6_I/AAAAAAAAAII/Gi8YsZoZMW0/s320/panel_05.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515684664211860466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Frustrated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Confused.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Are these always the emotions that I always encounter in my everyday life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Soon to realize that true happiness can only be found if I really love myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sadly I don't. Perhaps I never will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Because of this hopeless life i have is so.. terrible that even words can't explain how terrible this life I have is..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I would like to try to see you think like I think, experience like what I experienced, feel like I felt, get betrayed like I got betrayed,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I bet that you couldn't even make it at the early stages..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There are not many people like me who keeps emotions to themselves,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There are not many people like me who barely have any talent,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There are not many people like me who are not SPECIAL at all,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There are not many people like me who thinks that there is no real fun at all,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and I wish I could say, "I used everything that you gave me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Whatever you guys think of me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I don't really care..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All i know is that I'm here just struggling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm happy that you guys helped me, but I don't think it has helped me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm sorry you guys, I have failed you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1601274839350347377?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1601274839350347377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/09/failed-in-epic-level.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1601274839350347377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1601274839350347377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/09/failed-in-epic-level.html' title='Failed in an epic level.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TIul-o9q6_I/AAAAAAAAAII/Gi8YsZoZMW0/s72-c/panel_05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8540945426871157204</id><published>2010-09-07T17:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T18:13:35.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The right one !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TIYHNhZ74DI/AAAAAAAAAIA/PyWrjDMIrGI/s1600/37445_438133667929_313896032929_5899924_731362_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TIYHNhZ74DI/AAAAAAAAAIA/PyWrjDMIrGI/s320/37445_438133667929_313896032929_5899924_731362_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514102722648596530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh damn, SPM examination is just around the corner! Roughly another 70 more days to go. I'm so scared as the clock slowly ticks towards 22 November 2010. But at the same time, I can't wait to end all of this and have fun in Europe ! Yes!! I'm going for a tour around Europe. That includes London, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, France. I can't wait for that day to come !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm here to write about something again. And obviously it has to be about love. Everything I write here is about love. So lately my friends have some trouble in letting go of their loved ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just want to say that, dude just let go yo. Yes it will take some time. To be honest, it took me quite some time to get over my indescribable relationship with my ex. Yes it will hurt along the way. But time always tell. Everyone here is destined to be with their one. You gotta wait for your fruit. You gotta fail before you can succeed. This is life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know people keep telling me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"But she.. She is something special. I have never experienced this much love in my entire life. She is the one."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If she is the one for you. She won't break up with you in the first place. Am I right ? God is always fair. He will always pair up with you with the one that suits you the most. If you got dumped, that proves that she is not the right one for you. If she is really the right one for you, she will come back to you. I promise. This is fate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for now, just continue on with your life. Stop setting your mind into thinking that you are dead without her. That you are useless, rubbish, or whatever you may call yourself. NO! You are not. You are worth more than that. Life is full of ups and downs. Just move on ! Everything is going to be okay, and everything will turn out right. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I always say to you guys,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"If you want to find the right one, you have to let go of the wrong one right ? "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;- I wish I can Google how a certain someone feels about me. Sigh..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8540945426871157204?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8540945426871157204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/09/right-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8540945426871157204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8540945426871157204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/09/right-one.html' title='The right one !'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TIYHNhZ74DI/AAAAAAAAAIA/PyWrjDMIrGI/s72-c/37445_438133667929_313896032929_5899924_731362_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5933495514262230725</id><published>2010-08-25T19:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T21:52:52.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm blur !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/THT9AfWQh8I/AAAAAAAAAHo/Bc9PFBwHtWM/s1600/40463_147631331923808_116395568380718_311935_4785966_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/THT9AfWQh8I/AAAAAAAAAHo/Bc9PFBwHtWM/s320/40463_147631331923808_116395568380718_311935_4785966_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509306429037643714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/THT9AfWQh8I/AAAAAAAAAHo/Bc9PFBwHtWM/s1600/40463_147631331923808_116395568380718_311935_4785966_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A number of individuals which names are better to be left confidential have been asking me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Isaac! You seem to know a lot of love right? Can you help me with mine then?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Of course I will help them if and only if they tell me what is their situation and all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That will help me sort things out better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Apparently, most of them have the same situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They are blur whether they should go for it or not, whether they should take risk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All I could tell them is a story,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What I told them was,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One day a guy undergo-ed  an experiment. He took they poison of a scorpion and placed the poison into a beaker. Next he found a cat. A pretty wise cat. Last, a jar that would fit the cat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;His experiment was to pour the scorpion poison into the vase and place the cat inside and close the lid seal it tight, and leave it be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Now we would not know whether the cat would survived or not right ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The only way we would know whether the cat will survive or not is to open the vase right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Same goes with a relationship,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In a relationship, you got to open the box to know the results. Good or bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Let it be bad let it be good, it better risking than not risking at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:):)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope this helped :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5933495514262230725?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5933495514262230725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-blur.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5933495514262230725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5933495514262230725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-blur.html' title='I&apos;m blur !'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/THT9AfWQh8I/AAAAAAAAAHo/Bc9PFBwHtWM/s72-c/40463_147631331923808_116395568380718_311935_4785966_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1165990408905489693</id><published>2010-08-19T21:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T21:35:24.807+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What is love to me ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TG0zBpEa5YI/AAAAAAAAAHc/uBXBaniIRys/s1600/21948_1221401661256_1415392792_30528553_3535014_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TG0zBpEa5YI/AAAAAAAAAHc/uBXBaniIRys/s320/21948_1221401661256_1415392792_30528553_3535014_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507114022641264002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Arial, Verdana, Tahoma, Arial, Calibri, Geneva, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Arial, Verdana, Tahoma, Arial, Calibri, Geneva, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Arial, Verdana, Tahoma, Arial, Calibri, Geneva, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Love. What is love ? What is the definition of love? According to the dictionary, it states that the definition of love is to have strong inner feelings for someone. But, to be honest, no one actually knows what love means. Love can mean anything to anyone. Some say love is kind. Some say love is patient. Some say love is blind, everlasting and makes the world go round. Even some say love is a lie. Some say love is a game. But to me, love is not about seeing someone perfect. Not seeing a girl with a long curly hair, luscious lips, dazzling smile and have awesome curves. No. To me, love is seeing someone imperfect, perfect. Frankly speaking, I should be telling this with a sigh. Not one word can sum up what I feel now about love. Nothing could alleviate me from this horrible indescribable feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1165990408905489693?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1165990408905489693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-is-love-to-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1165990408905489693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1165990408905489693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-is-love-to-me.html' title='What is love to me ?'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TG0zBpEa5YI/AAAAAAAAAHc/uBXBaniIRys/s72-c/21948_1221401661256_1415392792_30528553_3535014_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7716533157451429782</id><published>2010-07-30T19:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T21:17:08.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thrilled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TFK0-TWZBaI/AAAAAAAAAHU/i54i7X_8XZI/s1600/28311_398126879274_593284274_4057014_6473632_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TFK0-TWZBaI/AAAAAAAAAHU/i54i7X_8XZI/s320/28311_398126879274_593284274_4057014_6473632_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499657077411874210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TFK0-TWZBaI/AAAAAAAAAHU/i54i7X_8XZI/s1600/28311_398126879274_593284274_4057014_6473632_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wow, it has been a really long time sinced I blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was kinda caught up with my exams this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ugh, enough about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The past is the past. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gotta live with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just hope I could pass or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Uhm, I have nothing much to talk about today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kinda tired with everything and all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Will do update you guys next time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I promise :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;- Excited about something :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/996208619450719126-7716533157451429782?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7716533157451429782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/thrilled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7716533157451429782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7716533157451429782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/thrilled.html' title='Thrilled'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TFK0-TWZBaI/AAAAAAAAAHU/i54i7X_8XZI/s72-c/28311_398126879274_593284274_4057014_6473632_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4444600911954946669</id><published>2010-07-25T14:56:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T15:14:05.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Outcries of the heart.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvj6Vv9tKI/AAAAAAAAAHM/q-uTto0-zfQ/s1600/Sad_Flower_Monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 319px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvj6Vv9tKI/AAAAAAAAAHM/q-uTto0-zfQ/s320/Sad_Flower_Monkey.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497738361546060962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;I wish someone, someday would say those 3 words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;Those 3 words I've waited so long to hear, that I'm almost bursting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;Those 3 words that probably don't mean a lot to other people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;I wish someone would say "Are you okay?" to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;There is only one girl who is worth your tears. She proved me wrong. She isn't. And I'm moving on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4444600911954946669?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4444600911954946669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/outcries-of-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4444600911954946669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4444600911954946669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/outcries-of-heart.html' title='Outcries of the heart.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvj6Vv9tKI/AAAAAAAAAHM/q-uTto0-zfQ/s72-c/Sad_Flower_Monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7504802676161163752</id><published>2010-07-25T14:28:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T14:35:50.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel so right</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvZt9pjyYI/AAAAAAAAAHE/NL-EoPrfC-Q/s1600/n268641120024_6334.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 96px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvZt9pjyYI/AAAAAAAAAHE/NL-EoPrfC-Q/s320/n268641120024_6334.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497727153802037634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvZt9pjyYI/AAAAAAAAAHE/NL-EoPrfC-Q/s1600/n268641120024_6334.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have nothing much more to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wait, I do. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You're finally gone, out. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;- You've told me one million times on how much you loved me, how much I mean to you, how many seas you would cross just to me. That you would always take care of me. That you would always be there for me. Only took three words to change everything, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was lying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7504802676161163752?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7504802676161163752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/feel-so-right_25.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7504802676161163752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7504802676161163752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/feel-so-right_25.html' title='Feel so right'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEvZt9pjyYI/AAAAAAAAAHE/NL-EoPrfC-Q/s72-c/n268641120024_6334.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1121197417498608888</id><published>2010-07-24T14:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T14:05:42.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not proud of myself for what I have done. But I have done it and I'm sorry.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEqCYF1rD5I/AAAAAAAAAG8/vbMgBq8fqi4/s1600/30523_135382523143396_100000149475336_415830_7785821_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEqCYF1rD5I/AAAAAAAAAG8/vbMgBq8fqi4/s320/30523_135382523143396_100000149475336_415830_7785821_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497349645554880402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(74, 74, 73); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(74, 74, 73); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(74, 74, 73); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I…am progressively feeling more and more guilty as time passes.  I feel like I’ve betrayed you; like I’ve completely desecrated our relationship.  What relationship, right?  Maybe more to the point, I feel like I’ve vitiated the love I have for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;For some reason, I’ve had a lot of trouble recently in picturing you with other guys.  Meaning that it happens often, not that I cannot visualize it.  I can.  All too well.  It happened to me a lot the first few weeks you weren’t talking to me–I remember that through the haze too.  The propelling force behind us beginning a relationship was your seeming willingness to randomly hookup with people.  I could not handle that.  It hurt me that you were completely okay drunkenly doing with guys who were practically strangers the same things we did together, things that were actually meaningful to me because they were with you.  Things that were meaningful to us, because they were with each other.  Things that would mean nothing to you with someone you barely knew.  I wanted us to be monogamous until I came to visit you in October, but you were so resistant to that.  So…after we broke up and you amputated me from your life, all I could think about was how much it seemed like you wanted to have drunken hookups.  It screwed with me a lot.  And as the week progressed, I got more  and more anxious.  I knew it was unlikely you would be doing anything with anyone Sunday through Tuesday.  But Wednesday through Saturday…well, you drank each of those nights.  And the pressure in my chest, the anxiety attacks I would have…they were unbearable.  The only times I ever tried to call you or text you were on those nights when I was my worst, when I just completely would freak out.  Barring the night you made sure I knew you threw the letter I wrote you away without reading it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;It got better once winter break began though.  I mean…we were both home.  There was certainly no way you were hooking up with people there; your parents do, after all, do their best to keep you on permanent lockdown.  And once you went back to school, in the beginning of January, it…wasn’t &lt;em&gt;as&lt;/em&gt; bad.  I’m still more tense Wednesday through Saturday.  But for the most part, you with other people hasn’t really preyed on my mind.  Until sometime last week.  I don’t know what it was.  It came out of nowhere.  But…I could picture in detail you with someone else.  Though, when I picture it, they’re faceless.  Like the Question–not that you know who that is.  The worst part is that what I picture, really, are the times you and I were together, but with some faceless guy in my place.  It hurts.  Moreover, it pisses me off somewhat.  I know your body.  Very well, in fact.  I know where you like to be touched, where you’re the most sensitive.  I found places to touch you where you had no idea you would like to be touched.  It feels like no one else should be able to touch you like that.  Like that should be something you and I share, no one else.  Moreover, it pisses me off that you can just…direct whomever to the places that turn you on the most.  That you learned because of me.  That they don’t have to work at getting to know how to please you.  This may sound stupid, or possessive, but…whatever, it’s how I feel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;For some reason, I’ve been listening to &lt;em&gt;Close to You&lt;/em&gt; a lot too.  Which is stupid, because it makes me think about you; my mind kind of plugs you into the song. And…you say I broke you.  Not that I dispute that, I agree I did.  But…how exactly have the pieces fallen?  Are you doing what I imagine, drunkenly hooking up with whatever guy that catches your eye?  ”I want a girl who’s too sad to give a fuck.”  Or is it the opposite?  You said to me that weekend something like, “Do you think I would want to be with &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt; guy in &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt; way after all of this?”  Do you have the same problem trusting people that I do now?  Of course…if sex really is meaningless to you, then there’s no trust there, right?  Even though when we first talked about being friends with benefits, we initially said we would do “everything except.”  We realized pretty quickly that our restriction made no sense though.  We didn’t want to because neither of us wanted to have sex with someone we didn’t trust completely–but we did trust each other completely, and so went the restriction.  ”Everything except” to “everything.”  If sex is meaningless, why would you want it to be with someone you trusted completely?  On the other hand, if sex &lt;em&gt;is &lt;/em&gt;meaningless to you, well, I can still see you possibly not doing anything with anyone.  After all, the last person you had meaningless sex with fell in love with you and…that imploded.  So…yeah.  I’m rambling now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;The reason I’m going into all of this, why I’m saying all of this now…I slept with someone last night. No not sex. But we had some fun and we fell asleep on the same bed. To me, that was sex enough. And all I can think about now is how I did things with a girl who was practically a stranger the same things we did together, things there were actually meaningful to me because they were with you.  Things that were meaningful to us, because they were with each other.  Things that meant nothing to me because they were with someone I barely knew.  I’m sorry. Sigh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1121197417498608888?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1121197417498608888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-not-proud-of-myself-for-what-i-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1121197417498608888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1121197417498608888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-not-proud-of-myself-for-what-i-have.html' title='I&apos;m not proud of myself for what I have done. But I have done it and I&apos;m sorry.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEqCYF1rD5I/AAAAAAAAAG8/vbMgBq8fqi4/s72-c/30523_135382523143396_100000149475336_415830_7785821_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-3347315417031583938</id><published>2010-07-19T21:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T21:56:13.047+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paranormal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TERYV6uozeI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VlFSjETCbZQ/s1600/35289_447917797929_313896032929_6151269_8365565_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TERYV6uozeI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VlFSjETCbZQ/s320/35289_447917797929_313896032929_6151269_8365565_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495614578864213474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do not mind the captions in the picture, just posting a picture about Patrick Star from the cartoon TV series Spongebob Squarepants. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So let us cut to the chase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I've been hearing things lately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Paranormal things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I've been listening to things. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Things that should not have been heard or at least, I do not ever want to hear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hearing flickering of switches, dogs barking, people calling your name in the middle of the night sucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am having goosebumps. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I think I am starting to see things too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What am I to do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;God, I hope all of this is fake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Amen Amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-I just want you, and it'll be all over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-3347315417031583938?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/3347315417031583938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/paranormal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3347315417031583938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3347315417031583938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/paranormal.html' title='Paranormal'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TERYV6uozeI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VlFSjETCbZQ/s72-c/35289_447917797929_313896032929_6151269_8365565_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8236672448284994951</id><published>2010-07-17T06:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T06:48:26.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Almighty father</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEDhpHCJGwI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Upscitn1Wrc/s1600/n111972392147055_8537.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 125px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEDhpHCJGwI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Upscitn1Wrc/s320/n111972392147055_8537.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494639641770924802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;All living creatures place their faith in someone more powerful than them.&lt;div&gt;And they cannot survive unless they blindly follow that person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The recipient of that faith then seeks out someone in an even higher position in order to escape from the pressure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That person then seeks out someone even more powerful that he must put his faith in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that is why, the almighty God is here. :]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8236672448284994951?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8236672448284994951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/almighty-father.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8236672448284994951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8236672448284994951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/almighty-father.html' title='The Almighty father'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TEDhpHCJGwI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Upscitn1Wrc/s72-c/n111972392147055_8537.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7271765968507523132</id><published>2010-07-15T22:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T23:08:51.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD8jGGSmymI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JxsPs17hHV8/s1600/30463_438930292929_313896032929_5922355_1629875_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD8jGGSmymI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JxsPs17hHV8/s320/30463_438930292929_313896032929_5922355_1629875_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494148658090134114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD8jGGSmymI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JxsPs17hHV8/s1600/30463_438930292929_313896032929_5922355_1629875_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm scared and stressed out recently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is all because of 'National Service'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is like my friends said, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The words of the week are either, "TAHNIAH or MAAF".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I don't want to go, but that isn't really a choice now right ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just hope I get chosen for the first batch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just end it quickly so I could continue my studies in IS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My plans for next year are ruined because of this !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Argh, but all in all, I hope when I join the program, I get buffed up. *winks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I gotta go sleep now I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If not Ms. Brenda Goh will kill me for not following the deal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HAHA! And thanks Brenda for teaching me how to play Hotel City. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Goodnight. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/996208619450719126-7271765968507523132?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7271765968507523132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/congratulations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7271765968507523132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7271765968507523132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/congratulations.html' title='Congratulations.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD8jGGSmymI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JxsPs17hHV8/s72-c/30463_438930292929_313896032929_5922355_1629875_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7715095082754613113</id><published>2010-07-14T18:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T18:24:02.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby, I want you to be mine, until the stars shine.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD2PfKXpmWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/m3A4LeWH3Oo/s1600/37857_446827562929_313896032929_6126535_1791599_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD2PfKXpmWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/m3A4LeWH3Oo/s320/37857_446827562929_313896032929_6126535_1791599_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493704885984139618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when I’m alone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it if you’re gone &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;The words you’ve said to me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you don’t repeat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you stare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you’re not near&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;Everything my eyes say to you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you don’t find them true&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you come to me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;And don’t say the way you feel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you don’t believe me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you angrily look at me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate the way my heart beats&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;Because the way you look and your eyes freeze&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you know I’m looking at you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate it when you know I’m waiting for you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;And&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;I hate the biggest fact that I don’t say to you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;That I love you like no one would ever do!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;-The unsaid truth written by someone with a broken heart.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/17px Verdana; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;*I don't know why my fucking font is in pink. Fuck it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7715095082754613113?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7715095082754613113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/baby-i-want-you-to-be-mine-until-stars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7715095082754613113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7715095082754613113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/baby-i-want-you-to-be-mine-until-stars.html' title='Baby, I want you to be mine, until the stars shine.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TD2PfKXpmWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/m3A4LeWH3Oo/s72-c/37857_446827562929_313896032929_6126535_1791599_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5955687398484108253</id><published>2010-07-12T22:22:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T22:38:23.205+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff to remember every single second of my motherfucking life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TDsoth9E2kI/AAAAAAAAAGM/3-poANp7LlI/s1600/35297_413164238521_27152833521_4433832_5697262_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 176px; height: 186px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TDsoth9E2kI/AAAAAAAAAGM/3-poANp7LlI/s320/35297_413164238521_27152833521_4433832_5697262_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493028933182216770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See here's the thing. I feel sometimes, kind of like, like I could just disappear and it wouldn't make any difference to this mother fucking world. Not that anyone I know would not notice it. I know my absence will be recognized, people will question it, how and why, people would be upset. Or would they? I'm not despondent enough to give a shit about me, I'm always invisible. I know that isn't the case. But, at the same time, I'm not in anyone's focus. I'm not really the number one person to talk to, to chat with, to call to, to do things with. I really really do feel like a consolation prize sometimes. Like just a piece of fucking scenery. It is really lonely, to be honest. I try not to think of that and, for what I think impressive for a short while, I succeed.  But then, I get all snapped again, become so integrated into someone's life, and then, inevitably, fall out of fashion. I'm not denying responsibility here. I recognized that I play a part where people tend to get weary of me, I give all of myself in a fucking relationship to get this fucking piece of bullshit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite that fucking recognition, I do find myself wondering why someone hasn't wanted me to remain a more permanent fixture, in spite of my flaws. That would be fuckingly nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(74, 74, 73); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;h2 class="posttitle" style="margin-top: 0.6em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: Verdana, serif; font-size: 1.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 1px; padding-left: 0px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-color: rgb(136, 134, 133); "&gt;-But of all these friends and lovers, there is none that compares to you.&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5955687398484108253?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5955687398484108253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/stuff-to-remember-every-single-second.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5955687398484108253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5955687398484108253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/stuff-to-remember-every-single-second.html' title='Stuff to remember every single second of my motherfucking life.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TDsoth9E2kI/AAAAAAAAAGM/3-poANp7LlI/s72-c/35297_413164238521_27152833521_4433832_5697262_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2654891386881994186</id><published>2010-07-10T22:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T21:53:15.915+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The begin of a new era.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This has surprised me. I thought I was done writing about you in this blog and go on writing about my everyday life. I thought my last post about you was just about it. Yet here I am. I really have nothing to say about you. But, I do still have those feelings about missing you and wanting you to come back but all in all, I just want to expel them out from me. Unfortunately, after trying and waiting for a long time, the results were still the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I met someone a few weeks ago. We met at about 4 in the afternoon and talked for about an hour. But I wasn't really sure. All I know was that it went by too fast. I knew that it was late since I noticed the crespuscular gloom. We had to go our separate ways, I had something to do that night. But I didn't want to go. I got into the car and believe me, I wanted to text her as soon as I closed my car door. Keep this in mind. This is kind of a big deal for me. I've not been emotionally interested into anyone excluding you of course. There was this one girl in my Physics class that I thought about asking out, but after thinking it through, I didn't want to for moving on sake. She is really nice though, I did like her as person, but I had no real interest in her like, spending some time to getting to know her, letting her in into my life, caring about her were no deeper than, "Hey, you missed Tuesday's class, do you want me to e-mail those notes that teacher gave us?" That was genuinely it, no one beyond her. Trust ? Forget about it. I personally kept everyone in my life in a safe distance. Meaning to say, I did not open up or express my feelings or listen to other people and emphasize with their situation. But... I never let myself go. I never let myself feel vulnerable or exposed. My guard was always up up up. But why ? Why did I let my guard down to this girl in merely 10 minutes? Not that I was pouring out everything towards here telling all the bullcrap I went through, I just felt.. right. I felt comfortable. That was terrifying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At that point, I wanted to tell you about this. I wanted to type it out here. To show it out to you, hoping that maybe, just maybe it would make a difference. I was reluctant to do so, however. It was a contemplation. Well after talking to her for a few days, getting time to know about her,  I knew I wanted to tell this to you. Believe me, I didn't want you back after what you did to me. Just a sense of closure. I actually cared about this girl. I believe there was actually potential for something beautiful to emerge from us knowing each other in such a short time. It seems unfair for to go any further with the storm cloud of yours over us. Wait, no. Over me. Anyway, I wanted to give this the strongest chance possible, and to do that, I need or maybe tried to show this to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, yeah, writing this makes this 'thing' officially known throughout the world. And you know what made me more convinced than anything ?&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Lighting bugs. I know it sounds silly. But, yeah lighting bugs. I was driving a little after 10 one night, and I passed through this field covered with artificial lighting. It was quite bright. There I saw fireflies. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them. There were a lot, and they lit of the field completely. I slowed down to a speed to where my grandmother would even consider it to be a snail's pace, and I started to starred at those fireflies. In that moment, I felt.. well that was hope right there. And for the first time for only God knows how long, I've started to share with another person, but not you. To be honest, I wanted her to be there with me, to see what I was seeing. It was something so small, so.. natural, but a bunch of fireflies made me realize that there was more to life than just you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She is an amazing person. She made me passionate about things again. Pretty much everything. You get me ? She said I did the same with her. Being with her was like.. Okay. I felt like part of a machine you know ? Like a gear, it was like my gear and her gear teeth were perfectly matched. We're totally in sync. That wasn't safe to say that everything wasn't perfect. It wasn't. I still obviously had issues about you.  She had some decent amount of shit herself. As great as things for the most part were when we are together, and when we're apart she would run things in her mind and freak out a lil bit. Cute. Like when I was getting too close to her, and I mean in a kissing point, she would push me away. But a few days would pass and everything went okay again. Two steps forward, one step back. Not what everyone would like to see in an ideal relationship, but it was progress and I liked it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There's so much more to this, more than I'm going into, but.. I don't know, it is just that my issues are not affecting things that much. I convinced myself that I has issues trusting people (not untrue), but I trusted this.. this girl, I trusted her an absurd amount almost immediately. Clearly, my trust issue wasn't an issues now is it ? So whatever I trusted her. Yeah... I was good on my end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Except that was bullshit. Yes, I have trust issues. Strong ones. But somehow, in a way or another she managed to slip through and played her part. Great. But how could I really think that was it ? It is not it. And because of that total shortsightedness, I was unfair to her. We both repeatedly said that we are going to approach this relationship differently than we had with other people in the past. Obviously I believed that completely. I meant it. And I thought I was. I recognized scenes that have held me back a bit before, and I try my very best not to repeat those same fucking past mistakes. Sometimes, I tend to slipped back, but hey, change is hard. That is to be expected in the both of us. Other areas though, other areas I didn't even try to change, mainly because I didn't necessarily recognize that they were issues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have major self-deprecation issues. Like no shit. It is weird, because I can identify the positive things about myself, really. But then, what happen is, I like to tear down all my positive because I think that they were not enough. I end up over contemplating. I ended up not taking her at her word. She said a few times to me about how happy she was to find out that I existed, that I was who I was. I didn't believe that. I didn't think about who I was to be possibly ENOUGH for her. And I feel like I needed, I don't know, frequent validation ? Not verbal validation. More like, I don't know, I just want to spend more time with her, thats all. Spend time with her all the time. Not that I think that is strange or anything. After all, she really did make me happy. When she wanted to have space though, I would get self conscious. Like I wasn't enough for her, like she was reconsidering whether she should or she should not believe me or not. So I made an issue out of it, I push. And I pushed her away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That is just one example. There are more.  I'm sure that there are more that I did not recognized. But, what good does it do to me now ? It is too late. She doesn't want to me anymore now. I scared her off just like I scared you off. And trust me, I've already been told how I would meet with someone else, there's plenty of people out there. I know that. Of course I do. But, that is always true. She and I could have fallen madly in love and that could be true. She's her, and , right now, I don't want to find someone that's not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, yeah that's the situation. I keep hoping that she will text me or IM or call or whatever. I seriously hope that I didn't drive her out of my life permanently. I care about her and would like to try to work through both our issues, especially now that I recognize how much I contributed to the problems that were there and how much pressure I put on her. I don't know if she will though. Maybe she will see this, I have told her about this, about writing about you in within a week of meeting her. I figured that I was going to scare her away with the baggage I had from you, but no, didn't scare her though. She really is a great person. And the worst part? She like me for who I am inside. I did not feel like I need to hide anything from her. I wish I could have trusted her more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, here I am. I have to figure this out.&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/996208619450719126-2654891386881994186?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2654891386881994186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/begin-of-new-era.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2654891386881994186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2654891386881994186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/begin-of-new-era.html' title='The begin of a new era.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4036896294383057464</id><published>2010-07-05T22:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:49:46.297+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TDHvAi-byhI/AAAAAAAAAFs/NYeF-rIrjUM/s1600/1_744763f917l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TDHvAi-byhI/AAAAAAAAAFs/NYeF-rIrjUM/s320/1_744763f917l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490432213409057298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This bear is about my post today. I'm not a fucking girly girl who likes dolls.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You read and you'll know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Isaac leong 2 bear :D, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It's an hounour to have such a friend like you :D, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;although we don't always talk to each other, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;but i know that you're a great friend with very worthy values. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I admire what your cliques has to say about you, don't worry, they are all positive comments :D,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; I admire the way of your thinking( differe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;nt yet unique), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like your interesting posts on fb, i like your personality, i like your easy-going attitude, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like the way you dress, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like your fingers :D so cute LOL!, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i admire your passion for calculation ;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like your sense of humour ♥, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like your glasses B), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like the fact that you have many friends, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like that you're a tech whizz, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;i like the way you present yourself, make you look and sound so canggih and smart :D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;hmmm, this is what i could think for the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; With ♥, from Rachelle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So I was playing this like challenge where if someone like your status you would have to post something about their wall on what you like about them. Vice versa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So I liked my friend Rachelle's status.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;To my surprise, I got this long list of like from her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I felt touched to be honest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I wasn't expecting these kind of response from her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I thought she was going to say that you're funny in class and that is about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Thank you Rachelle ! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Staring out the the crepuscular gloom with a blanket of memories surrounding me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Contemplating so hard that I might even lose it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4036896294383057464?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4036896294383057464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/thank-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4036896294383057464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4036896294383057464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/thank-you.html' title='Thank you !'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TDHvAi-byhI/AAAAAAAAAFs/NYeF-rIrjUM/s72-c/1_744763f917l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7974351731928745213</id><published>2010-07-03T15:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T21:15:54.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The week.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TC7t_MUs4KI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ptx9jmwxM18/s1600/30829_437393860662_288812015662_6042115_5531153_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TC7t_MUs4KI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ptx9jmwxM18/s320/30829_437393860662_288812015662_6042115_5531153_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489586665706807458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A normal week this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything was fine, everyone was doing their thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My school had this mini bazaar last Thursday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough about that, I'm here to talk about last Tuesday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I had a dream, and in that dream ;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I received a text from you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first I was feeling so ecstatic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was the first text from you since then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew it was you because I put our first picture together as your contact picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the next 5 seconds, I felt devastated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I regretted opening it, I regretted reading it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was hurt. Unimaginable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you sent that kind of a message to me?&lt;br /&gt;I feel so.. Ughh I don't even wanna talk about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the problem was. WHO ARE YOU?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because of that dream, I felt emotional that day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bummer, hope you could show up in my dream again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope I can go to Lintas Upperstar now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Goodbye for now :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*As I wanted to look at you, the sunlight kiss my eyelids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7974351731928745213?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7974351731928745213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7974351731928745213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7974351731928745213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/week.html' title='The week.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TC7t_MUs4KI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ptx9jmwxM18/s72-c/30829_437393860662_288812015662_6042115_5531153_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1032512157151975992</id><published>2010-07-02T16:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T16:07:41.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Footprints</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TC2cwoD4HiI/AAAAAAAAAFc/R9shqrRItJo/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 277px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TC2cwoD4HiI/AAAAAAAAAFc/R9shqrRItJo/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489215880035835426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One night a man had a dream,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He dreamed that he was walking along the beach with the Almighty Lord.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Across the sky, scenes of his life flashes by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;one belonging to him, and the other belonging to the Lord.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When the last scene of his life flashed before him,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He look back at the footprints in the scenes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He noticed that many times along the patch there was only one set of footprints.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest time of his life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This really bothered him, and he question the Lord about it;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life there is only one set of footprints. i don't understand why when I need you the most, you would leave me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Lord replied,"My son, My precious child. I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trails of suffering when you have seen one set of Footprints, it was then that I carried you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-By an unknown author.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just need somebody to love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1032512157151975992?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1032512157151975992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/footprints.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1032512157151975992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1032512157151975992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/footprints.html' title='Footprints'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TC2cwoD4HiI/AAAAAAAAAFc/R9shqrRItJo/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1172021404342364750</id><published>2010-07-01T18:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T18:52:43.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shakala baby !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TCxxtBlYKEI/AAAAAAAAAFU/IQVj-L3TspI/s1600/app_full_proxy.php.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 90px; height: 90px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TCxxtBlYKEI/AAAAAAAAAFU/IQVj-L3TspI/s320/app_full_proxy.php.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488887064191051842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ahhhh! Before I start things, I would like to say that the avatar on top is super cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I took in from the browser game called 'My Empire'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;School is.. fine lately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I finally realized I was a lazy-bum for over 16 years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How many things I missed out in the past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm trying to pick up those pieces now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes now. I know it is hard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But I'm trying my best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I feel so stupid for not realizing this earlier. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Studying is actually F-U-N now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Slowly yes slowly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But I actually can concentrate in class already. *Yes*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But I'm still having problems doing homework. D:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I've hardly done any.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I still wonder why I can make it to the 2nd best class in my form?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Maybe God wants me to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Maybe it was fate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well, whatever it was. I'm really lucky to be here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I would like to thank God for being there all the time and for answering all my prayers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 25px; "&gt;Te quiero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1172021404342364750?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1172021404342364750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/shakala-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1172021404342364750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1172021404342364750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/shakala-baby.html' title='Shakala baby !'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TCxxtBlYKEI/AAAAAAAAAFU/IQVj-L3TspI/s72-c/app_full_proxy.php.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5889173435852400298</id><published>2010-07-01T14:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T14:42:38.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Update.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TCw4Vm7w3UI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mmvE1YMLkCM/s1600/37239_439281972929_313896032929_5931428_2776147_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 114px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TCw4Vm7w3UI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mmvE1YMLkCM/s320/37239_439281972929_313896032929_5931428_2776147_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488823989737413954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have a twitter page now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is the link for you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/mrbekku"&gt;http://twitter.com/mrbekku&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do follow me :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have formspring too :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;a href="http://formspring.me/MrBekku" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;http://formspring.me/MrBek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ku&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5889173435852400298?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5889173435852400298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5889173435852400298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5889173435852400298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/07/update.html' title='An Update.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/TCw4Vm7w3UI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mmvE1YMLkCM/s72-c/37239_439281972929_313896032929_5931428_2776147_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2523031552673469118</id><published>2010-06-27T00:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T00:48:17.727+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Message</title><content type='html'>Hello guys.&lt;br /&gt;It has been a while since I last blogged.&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm here to tell you guys that, my recent posts has nothing to do with my past relationship.&lt;br /&gt;They are all just stories.&lt;br /&gt;I write them so that I cloud express my feelings out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still writing.&lt;br /&gt;But still finding inspiration here.. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2523031552673469118?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2523031552673469118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/message.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2523031552673469118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2523031552673469118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/message.html' title='Message'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-9170909899925854691</id><published>2010-06-20T18:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T18:55:32.485+08:00</updated><title type='text'>There’s a limit to your love, like a waterfall in slow motion</title><content type='html'>I’ve had nothing to say to you for the past few weeks.  No.  That’s  not true.  I’ve had nothing to say to you &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; recently.  A  while back, I decided I really have said all I can say, beyond this,  what’s here, it would just be repetitive.  Unhelpful.  I wanted to be  done with it.  But I couldn’t just stop. That felt wrong.  Unsatisfying.   No, I still wanted you to see it.  I wanted to feel as though I’d done  everything I could to get you back, and I knew that writing blindly to  the world wasn’t actually doing that.  I’ve said a lot here, good and  bad,but none of it means anything if you never see it.  Would it change  your mind?  Maybe, maybe not.  I tended to suspect the latter, but, I  couldn’t know for sure, now could I? &lt;p&gt;So I decided I was going to tell you about it.  When I made that  decision, I wanted to pick up the phone right then and there, send you  here as quickly as possible.  I didn’t though.  You were about to start  finals and I didn’t want to cause any unnecessary stress that could  feasibly distract you.  So I waited.  Patiently.  You got home, and I  waited still.  I figured I’d let you get settled in a bit.  Then I  finally called.  You didn’t answer–shocker, right?  I left a message,  telling you in broad strokes about this.  I didn’t expect you to listen  to it.  I knew you wouldn’t, actually.  So, a day and a half later, I  sent you a Facebook message.  Twenty minutes after, you replied.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Let’s see, where to begin.How about, “Fuck you.”  I read  what you wrote to me, clearly without having read the message I’d sent,  mind you, and I won’t lie, I was really upset.  You continued to treat me  like I was some kind of monster, total scum of the earth.  Yes, I was  upset.  I drove around the state that night, blaring my radio, running  what you’d said over and over in my mind.  How could you think those  things about me?  How could I possibly have screwed up so badly?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Well, you know what?  After considering it further the past few days,  I realized something.  I &lt;em&gt;didn’t&lt;/em&gt; screw up that badly.  Oh, I  screwed up, no question.  I’m not trying to escape responsibility for my  actions, my behavior.  But to warrant the reaction I’ve received from  you?  No; not that badly.  And with that realization, I was forced to  look back on everything I’ve believed the past eight months.  “The girl I  loved so much couldn’t do this to me.”  I’m sure I said something  vaguely similar to that to you on here before–maybe exactly that, I  don’t know.  And you know what?  It’s true.  The girl I loved couldn’t  have.  The problem, though?  The girl I loved?  Didn’t exist.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;You weren’t lying.  You never really did love me.  For so long, I was  crushed by the thought of that.  I was so hurt that I was potentially  never worth your love.  That’s not right, though; it’s the completely  wrong perspective.  You’re incapable of it.  You told me over and over  again how you’d never loved anyone like me, how you kept everyone at  arms length, you never really let people inside, even your best friend.   You never let me in either.  Maybe you tried.  Maybe you wanted to be  more.. human, I don’t know.  Or maybe you were just curious.  I don’t  know.  All I do know is that, everything you ever said to  me was clearly a load of shit.  What I finally realized, that doesn’t  mean I wasn’t worth your love, it means you were incapable of giving it.   And that just makes me sad for you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I’ve reread what you sent to me a lot since the other night.  And  with every reading, I get more and more annoyed.  With you, yes, but  mostly with myself.  You are…an immature child.  So overly dramatic–and that’s coming from the guy who’s pined away for you for  months, writing to you anonymously for the entire world to see.  You  lie to yourself.  It’s not even a question anymore whether you do–you  do.  It’s clear from what you said.  You’re “afraid” of things that are  utterly ridiculous, things I told you that you had no reason to be  afraid of months ago.  If you even are afraid.  I tend to think you’re  not.  I read what you said, and it’s just a total guilt trip.  “Oh,  you’ve utterly fucked up my life for good, blah blah blah.”  No.  I  didn’t.  Your life really doesn’t seem all that fucked up, honestly.   From what I’ve gathered, you’ve had no trouble blithely keeping on.   It’s only this terrible thing when you’re talking to me, when you’re  trying to make me hate myself for what I’ve &lt;em&gt;done&lt;/em&gt; to you.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But you know what?  I didn’t do all that much.  Yeah, I got upset and  wanted to kill myself.  Screw you if you think I wanted to do that &lt;em&gt;to&lt;/em&gt;  you.  How selfish are you?  I was in so much pain, I was so screwed up,  and you turned it into something all about you.  You told me you loved  me and then you turned your back on me.  Who the hell does that?  Who,  when the person that they supposedly love so much is in the emergency  room because he’s suicidal, decides to just never speak to him again?   I’m not the one who’s the monster here.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So…I’m done with this, I think.  Writing to you.  You’re not worth  it.  You’re incapable of any real kind of commitment, of truly opening  up to someone.  You never let me in, not really.  Maybe I got further  than anyone else, but that’s still not &lt;em&gt;in&lt;/em&gt;.  It’s truly all just  a waste of time and energy.  I still care about you.  I still, on some  level, love you.  That may sound absurd after everything I’ve just said,  but…you were important to me, even if I wasn’t all that important to  you.  I &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; let you in, completely.  And what we had, what we  were, even though it wasn’t as real or meaningful as I’d thought at the  time, still meant the world to me.  So, yes, I care about you.  I  probably always will, at least a little.  But I’m not entirely certain I  give too much of a shit about you anymore.  About whether you’re in my  life.  About what you think of me.  You want to think I’m this terrible  person?  Go ahead.  You’re wrong, really.  And moreover, you should take  a serious look at yourself in the mirror.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And you know what?  Grow the hell up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-9170909899925854691?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/9170909899925854691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/theres-limit-to-your-love-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/9170909899925854691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/9170909899925854691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/theres-limit-to-your-love-like.html' title='There’s a limit to your love, like a waterfall in slow motion'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-76088758513015462</id><published>2010-06-18T06:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T06:29:45.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(74, 74, 73); line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;There is fan end for everything and sometimes all people needs is a closure.&lt;br /&gt;It’s easier to forget about someone that had never love you, because You haven’t lose anything at all. You can’t lose something that you never had it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Love is the most complicated feeling in this world, Loving somebody isn't just being in love with them , missing them doesn’t mean wanting them in our life , We could love them as a friend more than anything else or even as a family member even when they are not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Some people have the ability to break everything that they touch but How come that we can ask someone something that they don’t have? But then there are others that with a smile swipe all our pain and misery away and with gentle touch of their hands erase every bitter memory from the pass and melt our heart with a sweet word. Welcome us to a new sunrise!&lt;br /&gt;And when you wake up in their arms realize than heaven isn’t after death that HEAVEN is indeed in their EYES when you get lost in them!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Nobody who doesn’t know pain wouldn’t know joy!&lt;br /&gt;And there is when that end comes in,yes indeed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-76088758513015462?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/76088758513015462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/76088758513015462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/76088758513015462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title='?!'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5423024408361094216</id><published>2010-06-18T06:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T06:26:02.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'>God's will</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(74, 74, 73); line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;I can honestly say that I am so glad to see how many caring people are still left in this dishonest world. Their concern for you, their advises and prayers of many of us. I know how you feel, to live in the dark and when the only friend around is you own suffering…&lt;br /&gt;I also know that the pain that causes you by thinking is with someone else … BUT DON’T!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Just remember that nobody in this Earth could be trully happy without the blessing of God. She may be experimenting the sensation of “happiness” desire for someone else that maybe in her mind could be “true love”. The Devil fool them with vane hopes because He knows that the higher of their dreams are the higher than their fall will be, He wants us to waste time in our life’s so will could end up alone He will lead us to a close end. No relationship, marriage or Hapiness will last when it involves another suffering ,if it does it will be just for their own punishment without remorse or repent are not forgiveness nevertheless Mercy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;But I do know that you will be blessed with the love from a wonderful woman someone who will love in the same way you love her( not judging that she isn’t the right for you) But I know in my heart that you will find her, A woman who will adore you,respect and appreacite you in every single way, A strong woman who won’t run away when times gets tough, Someone that a divorce isn’t a choice and Fidelity isn’t a question and the alcohol or drugs are not an answer and Specially that her level of comment are the same as your This what you deserve. Every good man like you deserve a great woman by his side.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Just pray for those who had hurt you, You be the good one Have Mercy of them so God could have Mercy of you and Never doubt it that there is Justice in this world and nothing is more abominable to God than Cruelty and Injustice. Nothing is worse in GOD eyes ,Be patient and You will see them fall and fall deep. Just don’t be happy for their pain. Just remember this, one day She’ll look back and realize that what she thought was bad was indeed good and what she thought that was better was indeed worse Satan paints innocent faces but the true values of our hearts only God knows it.. Time will tell. LOOK!! They had to kill Jesus to realize that he was indeed The son of God but it was already too late The already killed the Son of God and from that there is not coming back…Damage that is already done Punishment MUST be done! What I am trying to tell is that people usually needs to touch rock bottom to realize their mistakes and that is usually too late..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5423024408361094216?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5423024408361094216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/gods-will.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5423024408361094216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5423024408361094216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/gods-will.html' title='God&apos;s will'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-947658363094462702</id><published>2010-06-18T06:15:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T06:15:23.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You changed so much.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 22px; "&gt;I didn't even know you anymore. It was like you were a different person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now suddenly you're talking to me again and you promised me that we were going to be best friends just like we used to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing that after all the crap you put me through, it only took me about three seconds to fall right back in love with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-947658363094462702?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/947658363094462702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-changed-so-much.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/947658363094462702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/947658363094462702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-changed-so-much.html' title='You changed so much.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1555968631225986545</id><published>2010-06-14T16:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T16:04:06.704+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spiraling out of control~</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"  style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;t's always easier to blame other people isn't it? It would be easy to say that he did this to me, that he became such a part of my soul, that her departure from my life sent me spiraling out of control. And maybe to an extent that's true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;There's no doubt that I gave my heart to a girl who ran so far away with it that I'm not sure it will ever really come back. But to put all that blame on her would be naive, and I would never want to flatter her in that way. The truth is, I was broken before she came barreling into my life. And now that she's gone, I'm just one step closer to shattering. My problem isn't making someone else fall in love with me, it's falling in love with myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1555968631225986545?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1555968631225986545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/spiraling-out-of-control.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1555968631225986545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1555968631225986545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/spiraling-out-of-control.html' title='Spiraling out of control~'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6558540216114175960</id><published>2010-06-14T11:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T11:37:51.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something so close, yet impossible to reach.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I really wish I knew why I’ve been feeling as bad as I have been.   Why the mere thought of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; has been so much more overwhelming  than normal.  It’s been like this for at least a few weeks now; I  thought initially that maybe it had to do with your birthday, but…that’s  come and gone, and it’s just getting worse.  The pressure pushing in on  my chest is near unbearable; it’s to the point where sometimes I have  to actually focus and breathe.  This may sound like nothing new–I’ve  certainly talked about similar feelings before–but the severity…I just  don’t understand. &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And it’s so frustrating, you know?  I don’t understand why it’s  happening, so I don’t know what to do to even try to fix it.  Except, of  course, there are things that pop in my mind that could maybe make all  of this go away, at least I rationalize that it would.  But none of it  is realistic.  All of it involves talking to you and, well, that just  isn’t a possibility, is it?  I’ve wanted to email you, I’ve wanted to  call you, I’ve wanted to text you, I’ve wanted even to friend request  you–but if I were to do any of those things, it would be pointless.  You  wouldn’t respond.  You’d probably delete anything I sent you without  reading it.  If you were even to get it in the first place–it for some  reason occurred to me earlier today that when we talked in December, I  wanted you to read the letter I’d written that you’d thrown away.  I  emailed it to you, and a minute or so later you said something like,  “Oh, shit, can you resend that?”  At the time, I assumed you’d  accidentally deleted the email.  Except…well, that makes no sense.  Had  you deleted it, you could have just gone into your trash and retrieved  it.  What &lt;em&gt;probably&lt;/em&gt; happened, I guess, is that you blocked my  email address and hadn’t remembered you’d done so until you didn’t get  what I’d just sent.  I don’t know why this surprises me, really; you  blocked my number in November, why wouldn’t you block my email address  too?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;None of that is really my point though.  What’s stressful is that, if  I really wanted to, I &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; find a way to talk to you.   Granted, you would totally dictate how long that lasted–were you to not  realize it was me calling until you answered your phone, there would be  nothing stopping you from hanging up immediately.  If I used a  different email address to send you something, there’s nothing that  could compel you to actually read past the point where you realized it  was me.  And texts can easily be deleted.  So…it’s pointless, all of it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The other half of it is this stupid feeling I’ve been stuck with that  nothing is as it should be.  My lapses, which are becoming longer and  longer, when I don’t understand why I haven’t talked to you in so long.   Again, I know I’ve talked about &lt;em&gt;this &lt;/em&gt;before too, but…it really  is getting worse.  I wish I could articulate that, make it abundantly  clear why I feel the need to reiterate these things.  But I can’t, not  really.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm sorry for being such a dimwhit. Please take me back and I promise that I will become a better person.. Please... I beg of you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6558540216114175960?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6558540216114175960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/somethins-so-close-yet-impossible-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6558540216114175960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6558540216114175960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/somethins-so-close-yet-impossible-to.html' title='Something so close, yet impossible to reach.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-39624062996218539</id><published>2010-06-09T21:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T21:58:41.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Being single actually sucks sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;I get jealous every single time when I see a couple enjoying their sweet moments together.&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I wanted one.. How I wish I wanted you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-39624062996218539?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/39624062996218539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/being-single-actually-sucks-sometimes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/39624062996218539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/39624062996218539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/being-single-actually-sucks-sometimes.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8260462205406622976</id><published>2010-06-05T18:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T18:26:30.544+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>The problem with trying to shut you out of my mind, to the best of my  ability, anyway, is that sometimes you’re just &lt;em&gt;there&lt;/em&gt;.  I don’t  know how long ago, I said that you disappeared from my News Feed; did I  ever follow up on that?  Well if not: it wasn’t permanent.  You still  show up; actually, things show up about you now that I don’t think I saw  before.  But whatever.  Facebook isn’t exactly breaking new ground at  this point, though.  You’re there, I see you talking to people, it  hurts, whatever.  Old news, really. &lt;p&gt;What bothers me now is that I’m really trying to not think about you so  much.  I’m trying to forget you, to the best of my ability, anyway.  I  want to be able to accept that you aren’t coming back.  The more I  distract myself, the less I think of you, the more unlikely it seems  that you’ll want to talk to me again.  I just can’t get it through my  mind, though.  You keep coming back.  Maybe part of that is because of  this.  I still write to you; I still acknowledge the possibility that  you’ll read this.  That you’ll give a shit.  Even though you &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt;  clearly don’t.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It’s been over 3 years now.  I’m living my life the best I can right  now; I’m not sitting around moping over you.  You’re in my mind, that  much is probably obvious, but I try to fight you out now; I didn’t  before.  But you’re too strong, your memory seemingly permanent.  You  refuse to go anywhere.  I wish the you in my head could match up with  the real you in terms of how easy it is to walk away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8260462205406622976?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8260462205406622976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/facebook.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8260462205406622976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8260462205406622976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1475101001943874380</id><published>2010-06-03T00:25:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T00:55:30.856+08:00</updated><title type='text'>But your empty eyes seem to pass me by, leave me dancing with myself</title><content type='html'>Life could not get any worse. Losing the love of your life. And worst come to worst, getting serious scolding from your family time and again. What was I scolded? Good question. Failure. This is not the answer that I was hoping for. But the more I think of it, the more it becomes. Failure. How suitable that word is for me. For a useless guy like me. But I am completely overwhelmed at myself. How can only notice that now after 16 years in this hell-hole? I'm just stupid. Call me garbage now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh God. What am I capable of doing. Let us recap for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;1. I don't do sports.&lt;br /&gt;2. I don't play any musical instruments.&lt;br /&gt;3. I don't sing.&lt;br /&gt;4. I don't dance.&lt;br /&gt;5. I don't do well in academic performances.&lt;br /&gt;6. Neither I am creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at that, a list of how I fail in life. Oh God that sucks. I've tried staying tough not showing up any emotions or share them to anyone. And I have got to say, I'm pretty proud at myself for hanging on for that long.(Wait, skip this shit, this not about some dandy bullshit).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was I so stupid to make so many regretful decision ?&lt;br /&gt;Fuck my life. Full of fucking bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;My family kind of suck.  That’s a broad generalization, I realize, but  to some extent, it’s true.  Whose fault is that, though?  Is it their  fault?  Or is it mine?  Not that I’m to blame for anyone else’s actions,  that isn’t what I mean.  Are my expectations too high?  Sometimes I  think they are.  Sometimes I think that having any expectations of other  people at all is a poor way to live my life.  It’s funny, because I  recognize how damaging expectations can be in most arenas; if there’s a  movie I’m really excited about, for example, I go in expecting it to be  terrible.  Utterly disappointing.  That way, if it isn’t terrible, if it  has any redeeming value whatsoever, I’m able to enjoy it–it’s surpassed  my expectations.  So are those actually expectations?  Is “I expect  this to be terrible” any different than “I expect nothing one way or the  other”?  Would I be less disappointed in people if I tried to think  this way about my relationships, not just pop culture? &lt;p&gt;What’s that really accomplish though?  Is it healthy?  Have I asked  too many rhetorical questions in the last three minutes?  (Yes.)  If my  expectations for people are negative, if I expect them to disappoint me,  to be sort of shitty…will I be happy when they do that?  “Well, at  least they did what I expected them to do.”  That seems…I don’t know.   If I set the bar that low, what’s the point?  If I expect to just always  be near the bottom of someone’s priorities, does that help the feeling  of dejection because it’s expected?  It seems like it may just make me a  doormat.  “Treat me however you’d like, I expect the worst from you,  you can’t disappoint.”  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So what about the other?  No expectations.  Blank slate.  Let’s  ignore the fact, for the time being, that I don’t remotely know how to  cleanse myself of any and all expectations, to just take things as they  come along without any sort of anticipation.  So, presuming I could  magically start doing that…I don’t know, it seems sort of apathetic.  I  don’t know why, necessarily; it just seems very passive.&lt;/p&gt;Well, taking that into account, I can't be all mad at them. They are just.. wanting to protect me that's all. I can't stay mad at them forever. I just want to thank them for bringing me this far into this world. I love you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, any time soon, I'm just going to pop, just like a balloon. And I prolly will be regretting that moment :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1475101001943874380?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1475101001943874380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/but-your-empty-eyes-seem-to-pass-me-by.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1475101001943874380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1475101001943874380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/06/but-your-empty-eyes-seem-to-pass-me-by.html' title='But your empty eyes seem to pass me by, leave me dancing with myself'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6154583643892683588</id><published>2010-05-31T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T23:36:12.587+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uhmmm...</title><content type='html'>The heart aches, but I'm still standing.&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6154583643892683588?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6154583643892683588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/uhmmm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6154583643892683588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6154583643892683588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/uhmmm.html' title='Uhmmm...'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8518402364506599815</id><published>2010-05-28T07:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T07:02:12.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leak</title><content type='html'>Don't leak info about me!! T.T&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8518402364506599815?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8518402364506599815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/leak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8518402364506599815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8518402364506599815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/leak.html' title='Leak'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6576105627208304597</id><published>2010-05-22T11:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T12:19:17.747+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Camera *flash*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All this time, I was wasting, hoping you would turn over a new leaf. The chances I have given you. And all you do was let me down. And you brought me this far. Unfortunately, I figured you out. Don't you dare think it will be fine again. No. Not this time. You don't have to call anymore. Don't even bother. I'm not going to pick it up anymore. I'm so disappointed in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i have to say kudos to you. You looked so innocent. I might continue to believe you if I didn't know. I could love you all my life. But my eyes were the best camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that this day has to come.&lt;br /&gt;It is..&lt;br /&gt;OVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6576105627208304597?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6576105627208304597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/camera-flash.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6576105627208304597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6576105627208304597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/camera-flash.html' title='Camera *flash*'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5499572717125583747</id><published>2010-05-22T11:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T11:55:35.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The level of...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is truly pointless, I think, writing to you.  Writing as though  you would ever see this.  Deluding myself into thinking that even if you  did see it, you would care enough to read any of it.  And even if you  did read it, even if you took in every word I wrote, you simply would  not give a shit.  Because that’s really the truth.  You do not give a  shit.  Trying to convince myself of anything else is idiotic; it’s  living in a fantasy world.  I keep saying that you’re running away from  your feelings, that you’re trying to avoid more pain.  It’s just  illogical.  In acting this way, you’ve practically torn me apart.  And  it isn’t as though you don’t know it.. you saw firsthand how badly damaged  I am.  The person I knew, the person I thought you were, the girl I  loved.. would not do this to me.  Couldn’t.  So either you’re a robot or  you’re simply not the person I thought you were.  Why do I try to make  it more difficult than that?  The simplest explanation is the most  likely.  Creating this elaborate rationale for the reason you’re a bitch  is not the simplest explanation, it’s not the most likely.  The  simplest explanation is that the only time you were honest with me is  when you told me you were full of shit the entire time.  That I was just  flat-out wrong about you.  Anything else is too complicated, and  really?  I’m not too sure you’re complex enough of a person for anything  other than the fact that you’re a liar to be true.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And you know what?  I still miss you.  I still love you.  I still  want you back in my life.  That’s how screwed up&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; am.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5499572717125583747?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5499572717125583747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/level-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5499572717125583747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5499572717125583747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/level-of.html' title='The level of...'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-104486499035543184</id><published>2010-05-22T10:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T10:10:07.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A lot</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 style="text-align: center;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;name&amp;quot;}"&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;No relationship is perfect, ever. There are  always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up  in order to gain something greater. The love we have for each other is  bigger than these small differences. And that’s the key. It’s like a big  pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece.  Love can make up for a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-104486499035543184?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/104486499035543184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/lot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/104486499035543184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/104486499035543184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/lot.html' title='A lot'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2289853752097592561</id><published>2010-05-22T09:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T09:20:21.707+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna shine !! [Reblog-ged]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CHRIST%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-7.png" alt="" /&gt;love me, hate me,&lt;br /&gt;i'm still gonna shine.&lt;br /&gt;get away from my life.&lt;br /&gt;i  dont need you to tell me what to do.&lt;br /&gt;i dont need you to ruin my  life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2289853752097592561?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2289853752097592561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-gonna-shine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2289853752097592561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2289853752097592561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-gonna-shine.html' title='I&apos;m gonna shine !! [Reblog-ged]'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8365484798323396111</id><published>2010-05-21T23:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T22:35:11.365+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our wonderful memories just make me fall apart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The hardest mile for me to walk, was the one away from you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Since the day we broke up, I would always wonder, how life would be..&lt;br /&gt;And true enough, as expected, it was like hell.&lt;br /&gt;I could not focus.&lt;br /&gt;I could not think.&lt;br /&gt;I could not eat.&lt;br /&gt;I could not sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I could not talk.&lt;br /&gt;I basically was garbage that day.&lt;br /&gt;All I knew was, when I look in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;I could not see myself.&lt;br /&gt;All I could see was,&lt;br /&gt;A 16-year-old kid,&lt;br /&gt;with hair that was uncombed..&lt;br /&gt;his eye-bags were so deep, it was like he got punched or something.&lt;br /&gt;Dried tears were on his cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;That kid is the boy.&lt;br /&gt;That kid is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days before the break up,&lt;br /&gt;I got a fortune cookie from the local Chinese restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;I tore it open.&lt;br /&gt;It said, " Tomorrow, turn left when you get out from the house. "&lt;br /&gt;Then, I thought to myself, " What bullshit was this ? "&lt;br /&gt;And I threw them aside.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't care less about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day,&lt;br /&gt;As I was out from the door,&lt;br /&gt;I thought about the fortune cookie the night before.&lt;br /&gt;I screwed it up and turn right.&lt;br /&gt;Because that was where my car was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to school.&lt;br /&gt;I saw you there.&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, you were gorgeous but I knew that something was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Because your friends were glancing at me.&lt;br /&gt;I approached to you and your friends.&lt;br /&gt;You instantly stood up and shouted,&lt;br /&gt;"ISAAC LEONG!! Our relationship is over!!!! "&lt;br /&gt;Then you threw your slurpee at me, and ran away,&lt;br /&gt;leaving myself like a fool, flabbergasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out that she told everyone that I did not treat her as well as I did last time.&lt;br /&gt;The moment I heard that, I instantly broke down and quickly drove back home.&lt;br /&gt;Skipping school of course.&lt;br /&gt;That night, I was told, by someone who knows you.&lt;br /&gt;She told me that ... that... "THING" you told me that afternoon was a lie.&lt;br /&gt;The truth was you fell in love with another guy.&lt;br /&gt;My lips were quivering that moment but i suckered up and hung up the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just sit in my bed thinking.&lt;br /&gt;What would have happened if I did not turn right ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8365484798323396111?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8365484798323396111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/our-wonderful-memories-just-make-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8365484798323396111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8365484798323396111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/our-wonderful-memories-just-make-me.html' title='Our wonderful memories just make me fall apart'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-3781205251482375869</id><published>2010-05-21T23:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T23:49:58.722+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have to let you know, I don't want to let you go. Ever..</title><content type='html'>There are times where I feel completely overwhelmed without you.  &lt;br /&gt;I always miss you, I always have a horrendous feeling of loss.  &lt;br /&gt;It’s just something that’s there now–I haven’t become used to it, but it has created something of a numbness.  &lt;br /&gt;I try not to notice it too much–I can’t ever shut it out completely.  &lt;br /&gt;But, there are other times, sometimes a fleeting moment, sometimes hours, when I am washed over in how much I miss you.  &lt;br /&gt;How empty I feel without you in my life.  &lt;br /&gt;I don’t even know what I want to say to you right now, honestly.  &lt;br /&gt;Repetitive though it may be, I miss you.  Just.. so damn much.  &lt;br /&gt;At this moment, I honestly feel like I’m dying–I randomly started crying awhile ago and cannot stop.  &lt;br /&gt;I have so much I should be reading tonight, but I feel as though it is most certainly not going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not giving up on you.  &lt;br /&gt;I think everyone assumes that I have, or that I’m starting to at least.  &lt;br /&gt;I don’t talk about you as much, I try to fake being okay–it’s easier now that I’m back at school and don’t see anyone anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;When I do talk to people, I stay pretty passive.  &lt;br /&gt;I let them carry the conversation and just plug-in what I think are appropriate answers that aren’t cause for concern.  &lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of being told how terrible of a person you are, how I need to accept that you don’t want anything to do with me, that I need to move on.  &lt;br /&gt;I know I should move on; I know that it would be healthier for me, that maybe I would feel less…like this all the time.  But.. I love you.  &lt;br /&gt;I love you so much, with all of me, and I don’t want to just give up.  &lt;br /&gt;I don’t care that you told me you never cared about me, I don’t care that you told me to kill myself, I don’t care that you got the cops to tell me that I should accept that you don’t want to talk to me anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;I’m not going to do anything, I’m not going to try to contact you or anything–I’m trying my best to respect what you say it is that you want.  &lt;br /&gt;What I cannot do, what I will never do is give up on you.  &lt;br /&gt;I don’t give up on the people who I love, I don’t just accept that they’ve walked out of my life.  Not someone as important as you, anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;I want you to know that I will be here, waiting for you, whenever you want to come back into my life.  &lt;br /&gt;I won’t be angry, I won’t resent you for anything that you’ve done, I’ll just accept you back into my life because it’s what I want more than anything. So, hurry up and come back to me.. Please ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-3781205251482375869?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/3781205251482375869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-have-to-let-you-know-i-dont-want-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3781205251482375869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3781205251482375869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-have-to-let-you-know-i-dont-want-to.html' title='I have to let you know, I don&apos;t want to let you go. Ever..'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6676467850103584425</id><published>2010-05-20T18:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T18:28:54.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why bother ?</title><content type='html'>Somehow, in a way or another, I cannot let go of that notion that you're my best friend. It is sad, to be first. When something happens, you would always be there for me, you're are the first person that pops out on my mind when I think I should tell, when I'm bored, you're the one who I want to text. I know, it is nothing much, but hey, its workable and that is fine with me. But now, since you are out of my reach, out of my sight, I realize that I can't express my feelings anymore, I can't text with you anymore. I feel like you have a restraining order against me. No matter who is around me, I always feel alone. Without a fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it gets worse, everything is changing. I mean, it is more than feeling, everything in reality is changing. My relationship with people now has been twisted, weakened and stressed. I try so hard just to let them in. And to my surprise, I can. I can talk about myself, I can talk about them. I can for once behave like a normal person. But OBVIOUSLY I keep myself emotionally detached. I'm a fake. Its not that I want to do it. I really don't want to. But it is out of my control. I just cannot help it. I still care about them, I still love them, they still mean as much to me as they did before, I’m just.. I’m even more paranoid now than I was before about them leaving. Because I know they will. I just…there is not a shred of doubt in my mind. They’ll go. Why not? I’m easy to leave. I’m broken somehow. I’m missing whatever that piece is that makes people want to keep you in their lives. Or I have some rare piece that repels people away, regardless of who it is. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me tonight, someone who actually knows you, that they didn’t think you would talk to me again. As much as that hurt to hear, I don’t think she’s wrong necessarily. In almost 10 months since the separation, you haven’t missed me enough to say a single word to me. I get that I hurt you, that you’re upset, you’re angry. All of that makes sense to me. But to go all this time and not have even one weak moment? I mean, hell, I’ve been afraid to drink because I think that I’ll end up drunk-dialing you–I haven’t even warranted one drunken phone call? One instance where you regretted not having me? I’m actually that easy to just.. drop? I just.. I don’t get it. I gave you everything I had, and it wasn’t enough. It meant that little to you that, without me, it’s as though nothing is wrong, everything is just dandy. Is it any wonder I keep everyone at arms-length now? I mean.. no matter how much I give them, no matter how hard I try, it won’t be enough. They’ll quit. There are seriously times I wonder why I even bother trying so hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6676467850103584425?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6676467850103584425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-bother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6676467850103584425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6676467850103584425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-bother.html' title='Why bother ?'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6966823760648877944</id><published>2010-05-13T05:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T05:13:11.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I did all i could and gave everything but you had to go your way and that road was not for me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6966823760648877944?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6966823760648877944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-did-all-i-could-and-gave-everything.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6966823760648877944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6966823760648877944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-did-all-i-could-and-gave-everything.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1678343196547413096</id><published>2010-05-08T20:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T20:49:32.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1678343196547413096?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1678343196547413096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/ever-has-it-been-that-love-knows-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1678343196547413096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1678343196547413096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/ever-has-it-been-that-love-knows-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6553673282795971557</id><published>2010-05-08T20:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T20:45:34.214+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can erase someone from my mind. Getting them out of your heart is another story.. :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6553673282795971557?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6553673282795971557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-can-erase-someone-from-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6553673282795971557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6553673282795971557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-can-erase-someone-from-my-mind.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-3974756427027012404</id><published>2010-05-08T20:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T20:44:47.659+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You are the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t help falling in love with you while you’re breaking my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Don't know how long it is going to take to feel okay..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Healing day by day..&lt;br /&gt;But that scar, that deteriorating scar.. It will stay forever...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-3974756427027012404?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/3974756427027012404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-are-best-and-worst-thing-thats-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3974756427027012404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3974756427027012404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-are-best-and-worst-thing-thats-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7522332571036905182</id><published>2010-04-27T23:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T17:18:38.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A message to you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I think I'm a nice person.&lt;br /&gt;I treat people that I care about quite well.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I do agree that I can be a jerk sometimes by letting my emotions get the best of me but on the whole, I think I'm alright.&lt;br /&gt;But you, I did my absolute best for you.&lt;br /&gt;I arguably tried 200% just to make you love me.&lt;br /&gt;And yikes, I sound like an arrogant ass right now. &lt;br /&gt;But it was one of  the few things I thought I was &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; good at, you know? &lt;br /&gt;It  was one of the few qualities I thought I could consistently look to about myself  and be pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess I was wrong when I was around you.&lt;br /&gt;Everything I did, it did not turn out right.&lt;br /&gt;Your endless empty promises brought me to nowhere and thus bringing me down in everything I do.&lt;br /&gt;The promises we promised each other.&lt;br /&gt;You broke everyone of them, except one.&lt;br /&gt;I never broke any of them, except one too.&lt;br /&gt;But it is not about me, its you.&lt;br /&gt;You kept telling me, sorry a thousand times. Time and again.&lt;br /&gt;And you promised me you could and will change!&lt;br /&gt;I trusted you that you will&lt;br /&gt;Yet you did not!&lt;br /&gt;How could I trust you ?&lt;br /&gt;Each promise you break, makes me trust you less and less.&lt;br /&gt;And these are the little ones, what about the ones after I move over to UK?&lt;br /&gt;You think I can trust you so easily, but no!&lt;br /&gt;Even if I'm a guy, and have a strong body of whatever,&lt;br /&gt;I too have a soft side and it hurt so much..&lt;br /&gt;It like the devil burned my heart..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life was so miserable.&lt;br /&gt;The stress I had. UNIMAGINABLE.&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping that you were there to help me out.&lt;br /&gt;Yes you did, but it wasn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;You of all person knew how sensitive I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me that I did not help you, I did.&lt;br /&gt;I tried talking to you.&lt;br /&gt;I tried talking to you in detail.&lt;br /&gt;I tried scolding you.&lt;br /&gt;I tried consulting my friends.&lt;br /&gt;I tried not caring anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I tried just about anything just to make things better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even thought it was my fault.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I was too strict, not giving you any freedom at all.&lt;br /&gt;I was so stingy on not wanting any guy to touch, talk or even THINK about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I was too mature minded then you?&lt;br /&gt;So things had to be like this.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I don't know anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked you, what are you going to do with our relationship ?&lt;br /&gt;To make it better, to make us trust each other more?&lt;br /&gt;Your answer : I'm gonna study hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't the answer that I wanted but I just go ahead with it and supported you all the way.&lt;br /&gt;But what was the result ? Hmm.. You know I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do love you.&lt;br /&gt;My love for you are indescribable.&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost for words.&lt;br /&gt;But, in this relationship, I'm looking for someone who push my misery away.&lt;br /&gt;I need to be fair to myself.&lt;br /&gt;I deserve a happy life, a happy future.&lt;br /&gt;And truthfully, with you, I cannot achieve that.&lt;br /&gt;So, I need to be stingy just this once.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that the outcome has to be like this.&lt;br /&gt;But it has to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: I will not hate you or whatever, because you are someone that I loved before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Teardrops slowly fall from my eyes as I look to the sky, and I  question how come life keeps passing me right on by. I just wonder why I  can't escape, is this my fate? To always be unhappy and how much longer  must I wait for my beloved fruit to come...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7522332571036905182?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7522332571036905182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/message-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7522332571036905182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7522332571036905182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/message-to-you.html' title='A message to you.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5682121127602754351</id><published>2010-04-27T23:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T23:22:34.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Why love must be blind? I really don't know how I made it to this state. I'm tired, I want to give up, but I can't, eventually, love still defeats me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School.&lt;br /&gt;Was a normal day today.&lt;br /&gt;Had nothing much to do.&lt;br /&gt;Was gazing and squinting the whole time during exam to again, waste my time!&lt;br /&gt;I had nothing better to do.&lt;br /&gt;History was my worst subject,&lt;br /&gt;I never had that special interest at it :S&lt;br /&gt;Unlike math!&lt;br /&gt;I just hope that I could at least score a 30?:X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, I finally had the initiative to open E-buddy after MSN failed on me quite a time ago.&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, a lot of my old KL,SG friends which I met during my days at Friendster caught up with me again.&lt;br /&gt;I forgot some of them, but they made me remember them :)&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I could meet them in real life.&lt;br /&gt;They were so awesome!! Haha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well its getting late now.&lt;br /&gt;I got to go do some final reading before going to bed!&lt;br /&gt;Wooooo!!&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye everyone !&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/996208619450719126-5682121127602754351?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5682121127602754351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/tuesday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5682121127602754351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5682121127602754351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/tuesday.html' title='Tuesday'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4700356328324757972</id><published>2010-04-24T16:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T16:50:07.358+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There's nothing more i want, then a chance to prove to you i love you.?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4700356328324757972?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4700356328324757972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/theres-nothing-more-i-want-then-chance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4700356328324757972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4700356328324757972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/theres-nothing-more-i-want-then-chance.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8046649918876784803</id><published>2010-04-21T19:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T19:26:21.669+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally done..</title><content type='html'>II get so scared sometimes, you know? I’m terrified that this is what it’s going to be, that I’ll just…never be able to talk to you again. I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to tell you how much you mean to me. I’m aware that you knew you meant a lot to me, but…there’s no way you knew just how much. It’s truly impossible; I didn’t realize the extent to which you affected me until after you were gone. That sounds so trite, but it’s the truth. You seriously changed my life. I mean, okay, that’s kind of obvious just based on the last…five months or so, but this negative change isn’t what I’m talking about. I’ve loved plenty of people in my life. Platonically and romantically. I’ve been in  love twice, even though there were a number of girls I thought I was in love with.  (That’s the second sentence I’ve ended with a preposition so far–that bodes well.)  With all of those people though, every single one of them, I never felt completely at ease.  I don’t know if I’d ever felt totally at ease, totally comfortable with myself, my life, whatever.  Granted, there were varying levels of comfort that I felt, some relatively high, but…I don’t know, with everyone, there was always something about me that I knew they looked down on me for.  Or judged me for.  (That’s four.)  There was always something–even if it was small, if it was something I didn’t think should be a big deal–there was always something I felt ashamed of.  Of course, then there were the things I actually was ashamed of, so it didn’t come as a surprise when other people were too.  And, of course, some of it…I was so afraid of what other people would think, I never told anyone.  I kept it all inside, hid it all.  I knew for sure that I would never tell anyone.  Then…you came along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I…didn’t even know it was possible to trust someone as much as I trusted you.  As much as I trust you.  Present tense.  It was like…I knew, before I even opened my mouth, that you wouldn’t think less of me at all if I told you the things that made other people make me feel like shit.  And you never did.  There was never anything I told you, not a single thing, where you thought less of me.  And, eventually, those things I thought I would never speak out loud?  I told you.  And I was a little nervous, sure.  But…I still was sure you wouldn’t think too badly of me.  But you didn’t think badly of me at all.  I just…no one has ever made me feel like that before, and I didn’t even realize it at the time.  I took it for granted.  I mean…I recognized that you were different, but I underestimated how rare that was, how hard it is to come by.  There’s an episode on Star World, a tv series/show where a character goes to see a Broadway show for the first time–I think she saw The Lion King.  She expected to hate it, she thought she was going to suffer through it for hours, but she ends up loving it.  And she starts raving about how powerful it was to anyone who will listen, and…well, parts of it are a little over-the-top to be honest, but at one point she says, in a totally  awestruck, amazed voice, something like, “…I didn’t know we could do that.  Did you know we could do that?”  Like…it’s unfathomable that human beings could be capable of creating something so powerful, so beautiful.  That’s kind of how I feel about you.  I didn’t even know it was possible to be with someone and be totally relaxed, completely at ease.  I didn’t know one person could make me feel like I was…good, just the way I was.  Nothing needed to change, nothing I did would change your opinion, you just…I didn’t know it was possible.  And I screwed up.  Horribly.  Because I lost that at some point, I lost how you saw me.  I got so wrapped up in my self-doubt and all of the criticisms I launch at myself, and I hated everything.  I hated myself.  Even though, at some point, you made me feel like…I want to say “like I was perfect,” but oh my God, that’s not true.  Okay, I guess.  I felt completely okay with who I was, where I was in my life, where I was going.  And I took it for granted, like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know how important you are to me.  I want you to know the effect you had on me, the way you changed me.  I think it’s part of the reason I feel so lost, why I’m so incapable of moving on, because that feeling is rare–in 25 years, I never felt it until you.  And I don’t know if I made you feel the same way, but…it seemed like I did sometimes.  I can’t say that though, only you can know that.  I hope I did, because everything I said about how I felt with you, it’s how I saw you.  Nothing you could ever tell me would make me think less of you.  I may not agree with everything, but I didn’t expect you to do that either–and you didn’t.  But that’s okay.  Because…the best way I can think to put it is that, over the last few months, there have been times where I’ve been so angry at you.  Where I feel like I have hated you.  But all the while, I love you just as much.  I love you even when I hate you, I feel it there with the anger.  With anyone else, it’s just the anger when I’m…angry.  Remembering that I care comes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want you not to know this.  I don’t want to go on with my life having never told you just how much you mean to me.  Even if you wouldn’t care, even if it wouldn’t matter to you in the least, I still want you to know.  I want you to know that you have the capacity to make at least one person feel this way.  And that there’s at least one person who feels the same about you.  You never knowing that…it terrifies me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8046649918876784803?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8046649918876784803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/finally-done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8046649918876784803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8046649918876784803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/finally-done.html' title='Finally done..'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5088896360875973712</id><published>2010-04-21T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T19:15:18.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How true is this? ~</title><content type='html'>When you run away from someone, isn't that when you need them the most?&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5088896360875973712?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5088896360875973712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-true-is-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5088896360875973712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5088896360875973712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-true-is-this.html' title='How true is this? ~'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2685725492932405537</id><published>2010-04-02T09:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T09:40:46.848+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uhmmm</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CHRIST%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-5.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CHRIST%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-6.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Hey! Since it is Good Friday, and it has been a long time since I  did this, why not write a biography about me!! :D Well here goes, no pictures :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Name : Isaac Leong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Age : 16&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;DOB : 14/12/1993&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;About Me :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am a very complex person but at the same time, I'm  really the boy-next-door. I may appear snobbish at first, but I'm  really very friendly. I'm just the kind of person who doesn't have time  for "pretentious people"...in other words, i have no time nor will i  make time for "plastics" basically. I like to know things. BUT, I know how to  keep my mouth sealed. That's also probably why my friends trust me with  their secrets? I am a veteran at love experience. Or so what they say. I consider myself rather misunderstood by many. I  believe that i am an undoubtedly savvy character who although may seem  slightly eccentric and just a smidgen too easy-going.. I am actually  just a simple guy who has simple dreams. i am just like everyone. I'm not perfect. I have imperfections. But, I accept myself just as I  am. Even if guys my age are supposed to be secure in all ways, i beg to  differ. Heck, I am still growing as a person every single day. :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2685725492932405537?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2685725492932405537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/uhmmm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2685725492932405537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2685725492932405537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/04/uhmmm.html' title='Uhmmm'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4981034086945860077</id><published>2010-03-25T23:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T19:26:51.165+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress</title><content type='html'>It has been days since I last blogged.&lt;br /&gt;I have like SO many things to catch up with man.&lt;br /&gt;My mid-term exam is coming up in like 25 days?&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I'm so not ready.&lt;br /&gt;Being in the 2nd best class of 2010 is pretty much stress enough.&lt;br /&gt;Then I have to bear with all the bullshit from my mom talking cock most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;Everything is not going my way.&lt;br /&gt;ARGH!!&lt;br /&gt;What is this young boy going to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4981034086945860077?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4981034086945860077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/03/stress.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4981034086945860077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4981034086945860077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/03/stress.html' title='Stress'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-8107766532993928625</id><published>2010-03-10T14:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T14:37:12.268+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="text-align: center;"&gt;As a rose can't live without the rain, so a heart can't love without the risk of pain.&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/S5c9sPKN6_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/Nw4zlXYfgm8/s1600-h/badheart6yj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/S5c9sPKN6_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/Nw4zlXYfgm8/s320/badheart6yj.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446890104520829938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h2 style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-8107766532993928625?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/8107766532993928625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/03/as-rose-cant-live-without-rain-so-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8107766532993928625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/8107766532993928625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/03/as-rose-cant-live-without-rain-so-heart.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/S5c9sPKN6_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/Nw4zlXYfgm8/s72-c/badheart6yj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1213745684722291587</id><published>2010-02-27T12:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T12:16:24.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>*BAM*&lt;br /&gt;Change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1213745684722291587?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1213745684722291587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/bam-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1213745684722291587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1213745684722291587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/bam-change.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5170520619768980326</id><published>2010-02-23T18:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T18:16:33.104+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well just logging in my blog to keep you guys updated.&lt;br /&gt;These couple of months has been tough for me.&lt;br /&gt;Real tough.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm glad that someone has supported me all the way!&lt;br /&gt;And that special someone is non other than my beautiful baby girl Fiona Yong !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that I met someone so special!&lt;br /&gt;She truly brighten up my life.&lt;br /&gt;Words can never express how I feel about her.&lt;br /&gt;The way I need her is way beyond this world.&lt;br /&gt;I love her so so much!!&lt;br /&gt;I can never and I don't want to imagine what life would be without her..&lt;br /&gt;I love you baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5170520619768980326?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5170520619768980326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/well-just-logging-in-my-blog-to-keep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5170520619768980326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5170520619768980326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/well-just-logging-in-my-blog-to-keep.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6605827305968188323</id><published>2010-02-16T16:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T17:11:41.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FML</title><content type='html'>Life these days really seem to go by so fast.&lt;div&gt;No shit, its like middle of February already.&lt;br /&gt;Its like how many months to SPM?&lt;br /&gt;I don't even want to bother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've seen a number of my friends leaving the country to maybe JUST maybe have a new life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like start over everything again in a new environment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How I wish I could do that...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life to me sucks as always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I always have to see myself as a failure?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I always see myself as someone who is useless?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I guess being a failure is in my blood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God dammit FML.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6605827305968188323?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6605827305968188323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/fml.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6605827305968188323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6605827305968188323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/fml.html' title='FML'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-3086311303887251723</id><published>2010-02-09T05:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T05:49:56.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kinda bored with blogging already.&lt;div&gt;Me writing all advices to you guys doesn't work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its not like you guys ever read them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going public? :x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-3086311303887251723?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/3086311303887251723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/kinda-bored-with-blogging-already.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3086311303887251723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3086311303887251723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/kinda-bored-with-blogging-already.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-5802748405302544853</id><published>2010-02-06T18:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T18:32:02.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Of all the people, I expected you to care the most.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that my anticipation was wrong..&lt;br /&gt;Should have listened to what Soo Jer Yenn and Clifern said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-5802748405302544853?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/5802748405302544853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/of-all-people-i-expected-you-to-care.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5802748405302544853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/5802748405302544853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/of-all-people-i-expected-you-to-care.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-6587953533416487380</id><published>2010-02-05T17:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T17:38:17.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I agree with all of them :):) Baby !! XD</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia, serif; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;1. Guys hate sluts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;2. “Hey, are you busy?” or “Are you doing something?” ~ two phrases guys open with to stop from stammering on the phone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;3. Guys may be flirting around all day but before they go to sleep, they always think about the girl they truly care about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;4. Before they call, guys try to plan out a little about what they’re gonna say so there aren’t awkward pauses, but once he’s on the phone he forgets it all and makes it up as he goes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;5. Guys go crazy over a girl’s smile.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;6. Guys will do anything just to get you to notice him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;7. Guys hate it when you talk about your ex-boyfriend or ex love-interest. Unless they are going for the “let her complain to you and then have her realize how wonderful and nice you are” method.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;8. A guy who likes you wants to be the only guy you talk to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;9. Boyfriends need to be reassured often that they’re still loved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;10. Don’t talk about your guy friends to your boyfriend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;11. Guys get jealous easily.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;12. Guys are more emotional than they’d like people to think.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;13. Giving a guy a hanging message like “You know what?!..uh…never mind..” would make him jump to a conclusion that is far from what you are thinking. And he’ll assume he did something wrong and he’ll obsess about it trying to figure it out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;14. Guys are good flatterers when courting but they usually stammer when they talk to a girl they really like.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;15. Guys hate asking parents for money to buy girls presents. So they come up with ideas like saving their lunch money for a week. But it never works because guys are always hungry so they end up asking the parents for money anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Girls are guys’ weaknesses.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;17. Guys are very open about themselves.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;18. It’s good to test a guy first before you trust him. But don’t let him wait too long.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;19. Your best friend, whom your boyfriend seeks help from about his problems with you may end up being admired by your boyfriend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;20. If a guy tells you about his problems, he just needs someone to listen to him. You don’t need to give advice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;21. A usual act that proves that the guy likes you is when he teases you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;22. Guys love you more than you love them if they are serious in your relationships.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;23. Guys will brag about anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;24. Guys use words like hot or cute to describe girls. We rarely use beautiful. If a guy uses that, he likes you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;25. Guys think WAY too much. One small thing a girl does, even if she doesn’t notice it can make the guy think about it for hours, trying to figure out what it meant.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;26. Guys seek for advice from girls not other guys. Because most guys think alike, so if one guy’s confused, then we’re all confused.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;27. Any guy could write out a rulebook or advice book for flirting, but no guy can write out a book about relationships.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;28. Try to be as straightforward as possible.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;29. A guy has to experience rejection, because if he’s too-good-never-been-busted, never been in love and hurt, he won’t be mature and grown up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;30. If the guy does something stupid in front of the girl, he will think about it for the next couple days or until the next time he spends time with the girl.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;31. No matter how much guys talk about asses and boobs, personality is key.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;32. Guys learn from experience not from the romance books that girls read and take as their basis of experience.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;33. Guys worry about the thin line between being compassionate and being whipped.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;34. If a guy looks unusually calm and laid back, he’s probably faking it and is spazzing inside.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;35. When a guy says he is going crazy about the girl, he really is. Guys rarely say that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;36. When a guy asks you to leave him alone, he’s just actually saying, “Please come and listen to me.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;37. Guys don’t really have final decisions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;38. If a guy starts to talk seriously, listen to him. It doesn’t happen that often, so when it does, you know somethings up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;39. If your best guy friend seems to avoid you or is never around when you’re with your boyfriend, he’s probably jealous and likes you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;40. When a guy looks at you for longer than a second, he’s definitely thinking something.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;41. Guys like femininity not feebleness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;42. Guys don’t like girls who punch harder than they do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;43. A guy has more problems than you can see with your naked eyes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;44. Don’t be a snob. Guys can be intimidated and give up easily.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;45. Everything in moderation. Put on makeup, wear perfume. Just not too much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;46. Guys talk about girls more than girls talk about guys.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;47. Guys hate rejection, but they hate being led on even more.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;48. Guys really think that girls are strange and have unpredictable decisions and are MAD confusing but somehow are drawn even more to them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;49. A guy would give his left nut to be able to read a girl’s mind for a day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;50. No guy can handle all his problems by his own. He’s just too stubborn to admit it&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;51. Not all guys are assholes. Just because ONE is a jackass doesn’t mean he represents ALL of them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-6587953533416487380?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/6587953533416487380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-agree-with-all-of-them-baby-xd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6587953533416487380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/6587953533416487380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-agree-with-all-of-them-baby-xd.html' title='I agree with all of them :):) Baby !! XD'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2983935698210572805</id><published>2010-02-03T22:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T22:47:27.369+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ahhhhhhhhh!!&lt;br /&gt;Its really a bad start for me.&lt;div&gt;2010 seems to be very bad for everyone too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never the less,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its been hell for me this past month,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Constant arguements has dropped down my performance in my studies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though I was studying like a madman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ughhh,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gave you everything, but was it enough to make you stay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My heart was taken by you,broken by you and still is in pieces because of you!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wished I could save up all the tears I cried for you, so that you can drown in them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2983935698210572805?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2983935698210572805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/ahhhhhhhhh-its-really-bad-start-for-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2983935698210572805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2983935698210572805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/02/ahhhhhhhhh-its-really-bad-start-for-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-2743710016188196574</id><published>2010-01-30T11:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T11:26:20.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My other version of LOVE :p</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;Love, The most spectacular,indescribable, deep euphoric feeling for someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is an incredibly powerful word. When you're in love, you always want to be together, and when you're not, you're thinking about being together because you need that person and without them your life is incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This love is unconditional affection with no limits or conditions: completely loving someone. It's when you trust the other with your life and when you would do anything for each other. When you love someone you want nothing more than for them to be truly happy no matter what it takes because that's how much you care about them and because their needs come before your own. You hide nothing of yourself and can tell the other anything because you know they accept you just the way you are and vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's when they're the last thing you think about before you go to sleep and when they're the first thing you think of when you wake up, the feeling that warms your heart and leaves you overcome by a feeling of serenity. Love involves wanting to show your affection and/or devotion to each other. It's the smile on your face you get when you're thinking about them and miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love can make you do anything and sacrifice for what will be better in the end. Love is intense,and passionate. Everything seems brighter, happier and more wonderful when you're in love. If you find it, don't let it go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="border-collapse: collapse;  line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-2743710016188196574?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/2743710016188196574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-other-version-of-love-p.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2743710016188196574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/2743710016188196574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-other-version-of-love-p.html' title='My other version of LOVE :p'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-1815186139663204799</id><published>2010-01-26T18:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T18:27:33.019+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Parents, Your Parents, Our Parents [Originally written by a friend of mine]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma; font-size: 15px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;My mum defines a mum.&lt;br /&gt;She spoils me by giving me freedom that exceeds what I need.&lt;br /&gt;She does this hoping that I will learn to know my limits.&lt;br /&gt;She gave me even more freedom since I left this place for boarding school.&lt;br /&gt;She understands that I want to get out there each time I come back.&lt;br /&gt;She provides me with what I asked for.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's too much &amp;amp; it's not the things I need, its what I want.&lt;br /&gt;However, she does not hesitate to give her lectures when I get out of hand.&lt;br /&gt;She is not afraid that I will get angry of her.&lt;br /&gt;She is not afraid that I will hate her for stopping me.&lt;br /&gt;She is only afraid of not teaching me enough.&lt;br /&gt;My mum has a heart full of love for her kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad defines a dad.&lt;br /&gt;He works so hard that he often neglects his health.&lt;br /&gt;The one &amp;amp; only reason that makes him do what he does?&lt;br /&gt;Is to provide enough for his kids.&lt;br /&gt;Is to provide a better life for his kids.&lt;br /&gt;He is the funniest &amp;amp; coolest dad ever.&lt;br /&gt;He is humble &amp;amp; honest.&lt;br /&gt;He tries his best to provide a comfortable life for his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This much love is often neglected by us kids.&lt;br /&gt;We concentrate so much on our own lame problems.&lt;br /&gt;Problems like girl boy problems, which is the lamest.&lt;br /&gt;Problems like which bags, clothes, shoes, pants, dresses we must have but cant buy?&lt;br /&gt;We haven't even start to earn our own money &amp;amp; we're worrying bout all this when our parents work so hard yet hesitate to buy the things that they like.&lt;br /&gt;Our parents already have a lot to deal with outside yet they devote the rest of our time to us.&lt;br /&gt;The least we can do is, not making them worry about us, our studies, what we're turning out to be.&lt;br /&gt;Think about it man.&lt;br /&gt;Our parents deserve all the love we have to give.&lt;br /&gt;They deserve all our respect, all our time.&lt;br /&gt;Do you spend more time with friends than your parents?&lt;br /&gt;Do you know that they miss you when they don't see you at home but they don't say it because they understand what you need and want you to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;Do you show enough appreciation to them?&lt;br /&gt;A little thank you, good morning, good night, I love you mum &amp;amp; dad is not very hard to say is it?&lt;br /&gt;But the impact these little words make is big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; if you don't know what you're studying for, do it for your parents.&lt;br /&gt;Because they deserve to see the awesome results.&lt;br /&gt;Then they'll know what they're working for is worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-1815186139663204799?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/1815186139663204799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-parents-your-parents-our-parents.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1815186139663204799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/1815186139663204799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-parents-your-parents-our-parents.html' title='My Parents, Your Parents, Our Parents [Originally written by a friend of mine]'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-3927778391850261847</id><published>2010-01-26T17:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T18:00:50.949+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tumbling down.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2010.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A great year to end a relationship?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was stunned when I got the note that  majority of my friends broke up due to childish attitudes and/or decisions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I do not understand why in the world would you guys want to break up after being so long together?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you guys broke up just like that, WHAT is the point of being together?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No feel?&lt;br /&gt;Then why choose him/her?&lt;br /&gt;Betrayal?&lt;br /&gt;Then think twice. No trice before you make a decision next time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fun?&lt;br /&gt;Then, shame on you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sheessshhh, THINK people THINK!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;God, what has this bloody world turned into?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Break up season?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Piss off.&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/996208619450719126-3927778391850261847?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/3927778391850261847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/tumbling-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3927778391850261847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/3927778391850261847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/tumbling-down.html' title='Tumbling down.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-7097874945066581923</id><published>2010-01-25T20:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T20:03:04.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shared [From my Friend]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;Getting past the holidays was the hardest task for 2009,&lt;br /&gt;Every single day passing by me knowing that the same thing is just around the corner the next day,&lt;br /&gt;Getting past the celebrations where pairs embrace with joy around me,&lt;br /&gt;Getting past the mask i have to put on every single day just to make sure other people think i'm ok,&lt;br /&gt;Yes, i do have fantastic family and friends,&lt;br /&gt;But when you bunker down and settle in each night,the time of thinking sets in,&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure something is in mind; am i satisfied with myself, have i done enough , what am i gonna do tomorow,&lt;br /&gt;To me, i am wondering, what is missing in my life , what is this feeling that is constantly haunting me..&lt;br /&gt;For those who think this is funny to you, piss off my page cuz i dont need this from u.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i just want what other people have, isn't that one of our basic instincts?&lt;br /&gt;To be up to standard, never the less in the loop.&lt;br /&gt;But this is nothing materialistic, I WANT THEIR HAPPINESS,&lt;br /&gt;They have someone special, someone who accepts them for who they are, someone who 100% understands them in person, someone who doesn't mind flaws that are present in everyone, some one who which we can share anything, good or bad, just, Some one to share our lives with,But i know that to have this will require sacrifice that i am not capable to provide yet,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i just feel like loving someone, in some way showing that emotion to somebody, people say its normal, to feel this way, isit? why do we continue to feel this way? it isn't pleasurable, it doesn't benefit us in any way,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As brief as life is, i want to enjoy every single moment of it, live it without this empty ness inside me, hmm..i am freaking tired of writing the same things over and over again, i want this sad pathetic chapter to be over with,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The start of a new chapter would be nice, the chapter that will bring me smiles when re menacing upon it,&lt;br /&gt;well its off to the next day, and the next day, and the next, when will this be over?&lt;br /&gt;I have tried taking this off my head, but its a freaking parasite that wont budge, help me..as you can see, i need you, right here, right now, where are you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They let me down as every attempt i make to raise myself up from the ground,&lt;br /&gt;i am so tired,i'm sure you are as well,i feel so sick of this, the feeling of holding someone in my arms is so foreign, the familiar sweet scent that is always present with her,each time we look each other in the eyes, and feel that it is impossible for us to be apart, so far i have learnt a lesson, just as soon as you think this, its time to step back, and take a look at yourself seriously, confirm 100% that the person that you are with will not change their perspective towards you,this is a step that you owe yourself, because the consequences of failing this is catastrophic.And think about the person you are with, think of yourself, are you ready for commitment, are you sure that you are ready to endure the fights that are bound to happen,&lt;br /&gt;Are you ready to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody deserves the hurt from a broken relationship, its just too cruel, Some people are just too selfish and inconsiderate to think about the consequences of their foolishness,trust should be nailed, not glued on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is just the results of a guy who has no idea what to do with himself, a lonesome couch potato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-7097874945066581923?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/7097874945066581923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/shared-from-my-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7097874945066581923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/7097874945066581923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/shared-from-my-friend.html' title='Shared [From my Friend]'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-996208619450719126.post-4070390513079716891</id><published>2010-01-19T15:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T15:11:53.497+08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>What have I done wrong in my life?&lt;div&gt;What have I done to deserve this suffering?&lt;br /&gt;I have done everything so well..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pray everyday,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I study everyday,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I open some time for her everyday,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I practically do everything just for HER,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YET I get this kind of things..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sigh.. I can't take it any more!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pain is so...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sigh.. study first..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/996208619450719126-4070390513079716891?l=isaac-iz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/feeds/4070390513079716891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4070390513079716891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/996208619450719126/posts/default/4070390513079716891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaac-iz.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_19.html' title='.'/><author><name>Mr.Bekku</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14126865440776604543</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oDGHMEyGXpE/SmWS84fv-GI/AAAAAAAAABA/t6wlf1t1BaA/S220/DSC02174.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
