<?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-3879834581364045526</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:22:12.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When the world starts telling you.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-4076697544912548028</id><published>2008-12-07T05:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T05:32:03.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Byeez I shifted again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-4076697544912548028?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4076697544912548028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4076697544912548028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/12/byeez-i-shifted-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-4229431506399025990</id><published>2008-12-06T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T20:28:31.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Show me or Shut Up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I still feel very tired and I don't want to go for senior later! Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, apparently I am going to Malaysia and I.Didn't.Even.Know.It. How ridiculous is that? I DON'T WANT TO GO I NEED TO STAY IN SINGAPORE TO DO MY HOMEWORK AND STUDYYY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Seems like every one is studying or doing homework or doing something that I am too lazy to do. I am going to suffer next year, I just know it. The thought of doing homework or even lifting a pen seems too much work for my tired body/mind/whatever that's left of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Shite. I think I am PMS-ing. And I'm not just saying it. I think my period's coming, really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm hungry. G'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-4229431506399025990?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4229431506399025990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4229431506399025990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/12/show-me-or-shut-up.html' title='Show me or Shut Up.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2933866423444454061</id><published>2008-12-05T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T07:31:49.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He obviously disappeared.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;There's only one thing two do three words four you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Great song manz. Anyway, today was great! I loved every minute. Let's see. Ballet in the morning was fine but I almost died of exhaustion. Oh wait before that. Airport to send my brother off. CHEENA. Haha then after ballet was lunch with mom and sis at some restaurant called Din Tai Fung. CHEENA restaurant. I think my mom wanted to be in tuned with my bro or something. Missed him too much I'll bet. Haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Following, I told my mom I have homework to do but she said, ' NEVER MIND LA'. WOW. Haha so we headed to orchard and my sis bought her cosmetics for her new job. And she spent about 250dollars on blusher, foundation and lip gloss /lipstick alone! Mad. Being tomboyish ( okay I mean, not as girly ), I didn't have a single interest in the stupid makeup and so I just sat there playing BUZZ on my psp until they were ready to go. ( Believe me. It was veryy long )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then after that we were hunting for my escada perfume but couldn't find it. Apparently, it has been 'kicked out' cause the demand isn't high enough and it is a 'so last year' brand. EVER. My sis had a great time insulting me about it. Cheap Thrill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So anyway, I didn't find the perfume in the end. We ended up eating at TCC for tea break. I drank mocha frapp and ate strawberyy romaticia(?). It was delicious. Haha. We were so guilty cause we spent over hundred dollars on food just today. So we all skipped dinner and then at ten, I called macs. (: Couldn't take it. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Dinner with Issac and Sam was cancelled. I cancelled it cause today is 'my mom and my sis' day. Hahaha. I loved today. It was great. We had a great time talking and I had the inclination to hug both of them. AWW SHITE I JUST SAW SOMETHING ON SURVIVOR. MATTY JUST PROPOSED TO HIS GIRLFRIEND ON SURVIVOR. HE IS SO SWEET. OMGOSH. THEY ARE SO SWEET! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright anyway, tmr is going to be a busy day. Taking over Ms Pang's grade 4 class tmr then after that our own class at 3 then senior at 6. ARGH. Time to sleep already. G'night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it. You were just another replacable piece of &lt;em&gt;nothing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2933866423444454061?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2933866423444454061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2933866423444454061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/12/he-obviously-disappeared.html' title='He obviously disappeared.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3922315414829905119</id><published>2008-12-05T01:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T09:42:49.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Prince Chubby.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm using the labtop and it sucks. Hurts my elbow cause I have to prop myself up with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Today was pretty much boring and meaningless. Another wasted 24 hours. Oh, well. Training was funny. It was pouring so bad we ended up running to and fro the whole time. Not that I wasn't happy about it. Hahaha. And then after that we went to macs as usual and met my family and ate at Billy Bombers. Chocolate coke sounds gross but it's really nice actually. I ate a lot. A LOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Headed home and my sis and I decided to play The Impossible Quiz. HAHA. It's hilarious. Go try! You know, I was so bored that I actually created a facebook account. Haha Man would be so happy. Esther tagged me immediately after I created an account. Like, I created the account at 1247 and then 1249 she tagged or Wrote On My Wall as they call it. Haha how idiotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then tmr I have to be up at 6AM cause my brother's flying off to Cheena. Ballet at 1030 then I have to spend the rest of the day doing homework. But only after going for a drink with Jia. Missed her AH LOT. Then at night, meeting Issac and Sam ( if it hasn't already been cancelled! ) for dinner at, at where? Let's go Sakae PLEASE I BEG BOTH OF YOU. And dumb Issac. NO you cannot call Her along she hates me remember? Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Okay it is getting late (early?) now and I should be turning in before my mom comes and hunt me down like a bag on sale. (Just kidding she doesn't do that!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And whatever you meant, obviously doesn't mean a thing now. ( Not that I care,honestly.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Get a life but before that, GET OFF MINE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night happy people!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-3922315414829905119?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3922315414829905119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3922315414829905119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-prince-chubby.html' title='My Prince Chubby.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2634650820363737880</id><published>2008-12-02T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T06:42:58.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Super heroes die too.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm better than this, I know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;This has been, by far, one of the most productive week ever out of the entire november. Let's see. Monday tuesday was track camp. I mean, last monday and tuesday. Then Friday till Monday was retreat. Retreat was fine. Just that I had to travel up and down from Pasir Ris to Marine Parade and back because senior clashed with retreat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;AND ESTHER GOES TO PENTECOST AND I WENT THERE ON SUNDAY AND SHE SAW ME. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, for the last night of retreat, we hardly slept. Well I for one hardly slept. I mean, we only went to bed at about 3am and then I was so freaked out by the advertisement I happened to see regarding a ghost movie that I couldn't sleep. Then, soon after managing to fall asleep, I had to wake up. Stupid. But at least I learnt how to play bridge! And I must say, for a beginner, I am not too bad at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then went home and slept for one hour before leaving the house again for the christmas party. It was fun! Especially when we were running around. (: Then after they all left, JT and Esther was _________ ( can't say) and so camilla and I went to play with the Mac's camera. Soon after that Esther and JT joined us as well. (: It was so funny. Hahaha. THEY POSTED THE VIDEOS AND PHOTOS ALL ON FACEBOOK I'M GOING TO KILL THEM. Hahaha. I must say, spending the night there helped me to see them in a different light. Although, after what I saw, I really cannot say that's a good thing. (: KIDDING! Don't worry, the three of you are still crazy/fun enough for me to forget whatever I saw. RIGHT JT AND ESTHER. Hhaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then training today followed by ballet. I kicked the barre by accident and my big toe bled. It hurt quite a lot and that's why I had to stop dancing but I guess I'm too tired to even know real pain when it comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Now. Home. Tired. Sick. Of. You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I was on 53 just now on the way to ballet and I was pretty pleased that the bus was comparably empty and the only people in it happened to be alone so that made the bus reallyy quiet. Not that I would know even if it were noisy because my music's pretty loud these days but there's still a difference you know? I was kinda grateful for that ride because I got a lot of things sorted out. Well pretty much anyway.I was so happy that I almost, almost gave the people on the bus a hug to thank them for being quiet. Haha. I guess after so many days of screaming and being in loud atmospheres with manyy people, &lt;strong&gt;I really missed the silent noise of quiet. &lt;/strong&gt;Helps you think. Go try!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So tmr would be whitesands followed by toa payoh followed by family dinner. ( Sis's birthday. YAYE SAKAE BABEH.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Guess who I bumped into at the bus stop at Pasir Ris! I was waiting there cause the rain was too heavy for me to walk and I saw Issac! We go a long way back don't we? Dinner on friday with Sam REMEMBER. I hoped you kicked your ' oops I forgot sorry I'm sleeping' habit already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;What a day. I sweared at no one in particular. I was just in a really bad mood. Anyway, nothing's changed except that I hate you for screwing my life up and then walking away like that's the most natural thing to do. Just, screw yourself away to another island. Not just for me, for you, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Bed. Now. G'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2634650820363737880?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2634650820363737880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2634650820363737880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/12/superheroes-die-too.html' title='Super heroes die too.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-6587760814785442990</id><published>2008-11-28T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T20:09:23.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Highways and flashbacks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Whenever I pass by the flyover at shenton way and I see the Singapore flyer, I get this feeling. Just this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Say you're sorry&lt;br /&gt;That face of an angel comes out&lt;br /&gt;Just when you need it to&lt;br /&gt;As I pace back and forth all this time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Cause I honestly believed in you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding on,&lt;br /&gt;The days drag on&lt;br /&gt;Stupid girl I should have known,&lt;br /&gt;I should have known&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I'm not a princess&lt;br /&gt;This ain't a fairytale&lt;br /&gt;I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet&lt;br /&gt;Lead her up the stairwell&lt;br /&gt;This ain't Hollywood&lt;br /&gt;This is a small town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was a dreamer before you went and let me down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its too late for you and your&lt;br /&gt;White Horse,&lt;br /&gt;To come around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I was naïve,&lt;br /&gt;Got lost in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;I never really had a chance.&lt;br /&gt;My mistake i didn't know to be in love you had to fight to have the upper hand.&lt;br /&gt;I had so many dreams about you and me.&lt;br /&gt;Happy endings;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I knowI'm not a princess&lt;br /&gt;This ain't a fairytale&lt;br /&gt;I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet&lt;br /&gt;Lead her up the stairwell&lt;br /&gt;This ain't Hollywood,&lt;br /&gt;This is a small town&lt;br /&gt;I was a dreamer before you went and let me down&lt;br /&gt;Now its too late for you and your&lt;br /&gt;White Horse,&lt;br /&gt;To come around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there you are on your knees&lt;br /&gt;Begging for forgiveness,&lt;br /&gt;Begging for me&lt;br /&gt;Just like I always wanted,&lt;br /&gt;But I'm so sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause Im not your princess&lt;br /&gt;This aint a fairytale&lt;br /&gt;Im gonna find someone,&lt;br /&gt;Some day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who might actually treat me well.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a big world,&lt;br /&gt;That was a small town&lt;br /&gt;There in my rearview mirror,&lt;br /&gt;Disappearing now.&lt;br /&gt;And it's too late for you and your&lt;br /&gt;White Horse&lt;br /&gt;Now its too late for you and your&lt;br /&gt;White Horse&lt;br /&gt;To catch me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Song: White horse-Taylor Swift.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Bye forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-6587760814785442990?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6587760814785442990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6587760814785442990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/highways-and-flashbacks.html' title='Highways and flashbacks.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8367743273406707141</id><published>2008-11-27T04:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T04:43:10.238-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What would be Us?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You. Listen to this because I ain't repeating myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Look, if you want him so bad, you can have him. I &lt;u&gt;never&lt;/u&gt; had the intention of as you so bluntly put it, "stealing" him away from you. I was upset that night alright? All I needed was some company from someone I know I could trust. And plus, I didn't know you two were outside together at that time. I mean come on, I 'm not trying to be mean or anything but if you were interesting/attractive enough for him, would he have wanted to leave you? Obviously, your "date" was Boring, capital B. But that's besides the point. What I'm tryin to say is, if I knew you two were together at that time, I wouldn't have messaged him to meet me alright? Simple as that. I'm not, " the bitch from hell trying to steal S away just because he has moved on". GROW UP. He is my best friend and I don't do best friends. So you can just chill out and take a breather. SERIOUSLY. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Plus, if you think about it, how come he had no qualms about ditching you to meet me? Do you realise that by calling me a bitch, you are actually portraying an image of a possessive nuisance? Face it. If he likes you, he likes you. If not, then calling me a bitch wouldn't help you get him at all. Besides, he is John Tucker, don't waste your time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;But I have to tell you, if I really were snatching for him with you, you wouldn't stand a chance honey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Childish. Anyway, tmr is a boring day. FC retreat starts tmr all the way till monday. I WANT TO GO FOR THE CHRISTMAS PARTY AT JT'S HOUSE BUT I HAVE SENIORRRRR. ARGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I was thinking, maybe I should goto JT's house for the party then tell my mom I'm staying over at her house and then sneak out and go to the beach. But I don't think I'm rebellious enough to do that. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Time to pack my bag for tmr. Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8367743273406707141?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8367743273406707141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8367743273406707141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-would-be-us.html' title='What would be Us?'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3440303442948341216</id><published>2008-11-26T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T03:49:36.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The place we would go.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Camp's over. Not sure if I'm happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I guess I could say the camp turned out fine but as always, there were times I felt like whatever we did were pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Dinner sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;After dinner, took the bus to WL's house and waited for 53. I was so tired, I fell asleep on the bus and missed my stop. I could've gotten down at the next bus stop and walk back but I didn't feel like going home just yet. So I sat on the bus for a while and then messaged S to ask if he could meet me at my usual. His reply was, ' My pleasure. Seeyou. (:' You're the best. And so, I reached T2 around 10. Went first to starbucks to buy caramel machiatto then headed to meet S. He wasn't there yet so I just sat and thought. By the time he came, I was already in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Talked to him and all the tears that were suppressed throughout the camp, before the camp and after the camp just came. Cried till my eyes were(are) swollen and when I finally stopped, it was 1230. Mom called and I told her I was with S and she said fine. Continued talking and then I felt much much better. You always knew what to say. (: Yet, even though I feel better, the problems are, however, still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Took a cab home and by the time I was home, everyone was, fortunately, asleep. It was about 2. Showered and fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. Woke up only at 2. 12 hours, not 10. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I feel like crap now. Eyes hurt, throat hurts so bad from the chocolates I ate last night, arm muscle hurts like crap from the night walk chairs, lips feel burnt, hands and legs are burnt as well and I have a lot of things on my mind that I try so hard not to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I guess, I'll go back to sleep. S said he would come over later but I'm not sure if I want to bother him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;WL! Sorry I didn't reply your message last night. Couldn't find the strength but I just want to say I love you babe. Seeyou real soon. I already miss you guys. It's like, before the camp, we were meeting up everyday because we were busy planning and now, a few hours away from each other feels so so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Glads! Don't worry, the secret's safe with me. And WL and grace. (: I love you twin. You always always make me happy and you are always alawys there for me when I need you. I love you hon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You. Go ahead, flirt. I don't know who to believe but I know if I hear your side of the story, I'm most likely going to think you're lying. You lied to me about so many things, things that I actually trusted you about. You betrayed my trust, again. You're amazingly smart. Unlike me, you always know just what to say in front of authorities and your face &lt;u&gt;never&lt;/u&gt; gives you away. Unlike me, everyone who thinks they know you, trust you. Unlike me, you don't say things you mean and I'm not afraid to say, you've had us all under your spell. I admire you, seriously. Next time when you have some time off from all your flirting and schemes, remember to teach me some of your skills. Although, I must say, after being friends with you for so long, I have learnt a few of your stuff. YET, please do not get the misconception that I am upset over you. If anything, you're the least of my priorities right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;S! Thanks for my whole life. You've been there for me for like, my entire life. Last night, when I felt so so alone, you came and you never left. Seriously, if not for you, I would have died many years ago. You're the bestest bestfriend. I love you. Thank you. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;The night during camp, I felt like crying so bad. I didn't know what to do cause everything was just upside down. I held back the tears so much. I wanted to cry, just cry. But who to cry to? Who would understand why I'm crying even if I didn't say anything? Who would simply let me cry without questioning why? Who would bother? And, how could I cry if I didn't want my eyes to be swollen the next day? So I stayed awake and tried not to think about all the things that were bothering me. I tried to laugh, as much as I can throughout the camp. But only people who cared would have known I was putting up a front. During debrief, I felt like crying even more. STOP PICKING ON ME YOU BITCH. Yeah, I know I'm not the type that would shut up and curry favour with you. I swear, I will never shut up and just listen to you when I know that whatever you are saying is not fair to me, UNLIKE YOU. Whatever, I'm ready for your discrimination. Hit me. After debrief, I forced myself to smile even more. I pretended like I'm happy but it was all a show. I didn't want to dampen everyone's mood. But anymore drama and I swear, I won't be that strong anymore. I'm probably like, at the weakest of my defence right now. If someone even sent me a message saying,' Shit you. (:' I would start crying all over again. SO PLEASE, DON'T.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Going back to sleep now. Message me if you must but if I don't reply, you get my message. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-3440303442948341216?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3440303442948341216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3440303442948341216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/place-we-would-go.html' title='The place we would go.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-51090934496306506</id><published>2008-11-23T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T18:56:19.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trails of a footprint.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Hey you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Senior was horrible yesterday. I can't wait for nutcracker to be over so that I never have to go back again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Anyway, there are a lot of things that I need to do but haven't done. Let's see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;1) FINISH LETTERS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;2)PACK BAG FOR TRACK CAMP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;3) CUT HAIR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;4) PREPARE MATERIALS FOR SENTOSA GAMES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;5) LOAD VIDEOS INTO iPOD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;6) SEND EMAIL TO MR. LIM TO TELL HIM ABOUT OUR PROGRESS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;7) FINISH UP POWERPOINT FOR LIFE SCIENCE SYMPOSIUM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;8) CHOOSE SONGS FOR FC RETREAT ( WORSHIP)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;9) CUT HAIR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;10) CUT HAIR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Okay, the first thing I'm going to do is cut hair. I'll do it by today so that I I won't have a hard time tying it at track camp. Track camp's tmr and I'm not confident about all the itinerary. SHITE. WE HAVN'T BOUGHT THE FOOD! CALL HILLARY NOW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;BYE!&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/3879834581364045526-51090934496306506?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/51090934496306506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/51090934496306506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/trails-of-footprint.html' title='Trails of a footprint.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-319997754989135730</id><published>2008-11-22T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T20:50:18.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WENDY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeOLx_IszI/AAAAAAAAASM/wg8T6TyDxFg/s1600-h/IMG_1055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeOLx_IszI/AAAAAAAAASM/wg8T6TyDxFg/s200/IMG_1055.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271338221908308786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeNnSWeuXI/AAAAAAAAASE/FcVVpDIDvfE/s1600-h/18-09-07_1432.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeNnSWeuXI/AAAAAAAAASE/FcVVpDIDvfE/s200/18-09-07_1432.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271337594940995954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeNdRek2bI/AAAAAAAAAR8/-uIYqI1Nc9U/s1600-h/Picture(92).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeNdRek2bI/AAAAAAAAAR8/-uIYqI1Nc9U/s200/Picture(92).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271337422907824562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That, was then. (:&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YOU. Happy birthday hon! (: We've been friends since primary four and I must say, you havn't changed a bit! But not to worry, that's the best thing about you. You're so silly, I always smile whenever I'm with you. Well, most of the time anyway. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Track camp's coming. And this year, it'll be better, I promise, than last year. (: Love you plenty!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way, don't blame me for the pictures! I think you look better THEN, anyway. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/3879834581364045526-319997754989135730?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/319997754989135730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/319997754989135730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/wendy.html' title='WENDY!'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSeOLx_IszI/AAAAAAAAASM/wg8T6TyDxFg/s72-c/IMG_1055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-1546645596657370</id><published>2008-11-21T06:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T06:34:30.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep down, it's true.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlSYLQiI/AAAAAAAAARs/srmNb-gQlPE/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(4).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271112160704676386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlSYLQiI/AAAAAAAAARs/srmNb-gQlPE/s200/marianela+nunez+(4).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlL3EtOI/AAAAAAAAARk/snC2cMGta2g/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271112158955222242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlL3EtOI/AAAAAAAAARk/snC2cMGta2g/s200/marianela+nunez+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlObM4YI/AAAAAAAAARc/YWRrcwpvex8/s1600-h/Marianela+nunez+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271112159643623810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlObM4YI/AAAAAAAAARc/YWRrcwpvex8/s200/Marianela+nunez+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlPYtsGI/AAAAAAAAARU/cWWuGqfkdWQ/s1600-h/Marianela+nunez+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271112159901626466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlPYtsGI/AAAAAAAAARU/cWWuGqfkdWQ/s200/Marianela+nunez+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Feature: Marianela Nunez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yes, I know it's my second time I am featuring her but really, she's wonderful. According to wikipedia, she is known for her 'Golden Technique'. Really, the pictures are a mere sketch to what she really can do. Go watch her on youtube. She is so clean, pleasent and just very technical. She is wonderful. Like Sarah Lamb, she has technique so clean, it would match up to Russian dancers and their high extensions. Not that her extensions aren't high, it's just that Russian dancers are the best at having 180 developpes and splits but Royal Ballet dancers are just really clean, technically. And that is, in my opinion, much harder to achieve than high extensions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright enough. Yesterday, we met Ms F at macs and she gave us all a treat! (: We, of course, paid her back by sitting there for hours, trying to make the sec4 farewell as perfect as we can. But by the looks of it, most of the sec4s aren't even appreciative of it. Sure, you deserve this farewell but hey, we've done more than just giving you what you guys deserve alright. We didn't care if it was tough. We didn't care if it took up most of our free time. All we wanted was to make sure you guys have the time of your life. Yet, it's not enough that you guys are agreeing to go reluctantly. No, some even have to 'take into deep consideration' whether or not to go. PUH-LEASE. Is this your life we're talking about? It's a bloody camp for goodness sake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;About the shirts, we were lucky enough that Jessica lent us 40 bucks because we still didn't have enough even after Hillary gavce 100bucks and I gave 150. Ever, this is so annoying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ballet senior again tmr. Camp's on monday and we're fighting for space. Sigh. I am starting to dread the camp myself. G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-1546645596657370?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/1546645596657370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/1546645596657370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/deep-down-its-true.html' title='Deep down, it&apos;s true.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SSbAlSYLQiI/AAAAAAAAARs/srmNb-gQlPE/s72-c/marianela+nunez+(4).jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-794829959670858446</id><published>2008-11-18T05:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T06:08:51.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Estimation Was Wrong.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I NEED TO THANK A LOT OF PEOPLE. HERE GOES:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ALEEYA!! Thanks for going back to macs so late just to find my shoebag. (: You're very nice and you will be rewarded for your kind deed. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;GLADS!! Thanks for offering to go back to macs even though you live very far from serangoon. (: And thanks for calling Aleeya for me. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;HILLARY!! Thanks for offering to go back too! And for helping me to think where I could have left my shoebag and being by my side ( on the phoone) when I was most worried. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VANI!! Thanks for helping me to recall if I was holding my shoebag after we left macs. (: Even though you messaged me, 'EH. I AM VERY VERY SURE YOU TOOK YOUR SHOBAG OUT OF MACS'. HAHAHA. My shoebag was at macs you ninny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Okay. Lastly, I need to thank HILLARY'S MOM! ( Just realised I don't know her name though I stayed over at your house for one week) She reminded me to pray. (: OH WAIT. I NEED TO THANK JESUS. (: THANK YOU FOR BEING THE MASTER BEHIND ALL THESE. Yes, you planned for me to leave my shoebag behind but that made me realise I have nice juniors and nice friends. (: And thanks for answering my prayer. (: I just knew you would, and that made me less scared when I was on the bus on the way back to tampines mall just to look for my shoebag. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yes, I reached home and went back there again because earlier on, me and hillary went to popular to buy stuff and then went to the toilet so there was a slight chance I might have left it somewhere there. BUT the funny thing is, my shoebag wasn't even with me throughout my whole bus ride and I Didn't Even Realise. Stupid!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I AM SCREWED. Next week right, there's camp on monday tuesday which means I would miss monday's senior and tuesday's ballet. Then, there's FC retreat from friday to monday. Which means to say, I would miss friday's ballet and saturday's ballet and senior. To put it in a succinct way, it means I AM MISSING ONE WHOLE WEEK OF BALLET AND SENIOR. OMGOSH. SHITE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I AM SO DEAD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ARGH. This is not good. Ah damn. I'll just tell Ms Pang and Ms Lee I am going on holiday. It is easier to say that than to explain to them about me going to camp and then to retreat, right? But what the hell. I am going to miss out on a lot and I will be so lost when I return. Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, tmr's so packed. I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!! UGH. Meeting trackers after that to do our last min planning. Really tired from all the worry and anxiety of losing my shoebag so I'll be off. (: G'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;*PS. I JUST CHECKED APPLE.COM AND THEY SAID MY IPOD CLASSIC IS SHIPPED ALREADY AND IS COMING TO ME TMR!!! (: AND I SPENT MORE THAN TEN BUCKS AT MACS TODAY. I AM NOT PROUD OF MYSELF. BUT OMG IPOD'S COMING!!! (: G'NIGHT HAPPY PEOPLE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-794829959670858446?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/794829959670858446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/794829959670858446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-estimation-was-wrong.html' title='My Estimation Was Wrong.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2221259575269523517</id><published>2008-11-14T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T19:30:40.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vows of a sacred truth.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;HELLO WORLD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I just ordered my ipod classic (black) online. I didn't buy from the shop itself cause it would mean having to bring a lot of money out and also, shipping in would allow you to do free engraving at the back of your ipod, thus personalizing it. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's coming around the 19-20. But I'm out, both days. Shite. Anyway, guess what I engraved! It's funny. Hahaha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was really stupid. I went onto apple.com and I didn't realise that when they said, 'ipod classic for only $249', they actually meant it in US dollars. So I happily carried on with my shipping application until I reached my address and they said 'town/city' and they automatically had 'USA' there. So I was stunned for a minute and then realised I had to go to apple.com.sg. Hahaha. And so in Singapore dollars, it's $371 but due to the GST, the total cost is $398. Nutcase. Another good thing about ordering online, you have to pay either by credit card, MasterCard or Visa. Obviously, I used my mom's. (: That means the 200bucks I got from my dad is still available for use. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But yaye, FASTER COME LA ipod!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ballet later then senior. Gosh. I think this font is nice. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bye happy people! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2221259575269523517?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2221259575269523517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2221259575269523517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/vows-of-sacred-truth.html' title='Vows of a sacred truth.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-6833350242278694525</id><published>2008-11-13T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T17:47:21.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stripped down to nothing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Wednesday was awesome. (: WL said 'it wasn't as good as the previous one'. I don't think so. I thought wed was wayy better, except that we didn't take much photos. But the tram rides in the rain was lovely. (: ' Thanks for shielding the rain for us ah'. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And then, ' Can I have a her, hahahahaha, hers hahaha.' HAHAHA. Hillary and I were laughing so hard we had difficulty trying to tell the woman we wanted hersheys' sundae pie. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Burger King was fun fun fun! (: I was pretty much in a bad mood on wed but they made me much better! Singing 'the wheels on the bus go round and round' on the tram in front of everyone with teng made me happy. (: I slept with a smile that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then training on thursday. EHMAGOD. He decided to change our training. Apparently, we're into our 'second pace of workout and it is going to be slightly more difficult'. SLIGHTLY?! Sprinting 7 miles with only a 3 min break in between is not slightly more difficult. And after 5 sets of staircase continous too. What our training was exactly: 5 sets of stairs, sprint 2 rounds around the border of the stadium ( long run route) and do it 7 times. We died, honestly. Following, 50 farlegs (?) two rounds, cool down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;EVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Meeting the six of them at orchard later to catch MADAGASCAR 2 !!!!!! OMG I AM SO HAPPYYY. I MUST BE THE BIGGEST MADAGASCAR FAN BECAUSE I WATHCED THE VCD 77 TIMES AND I CAN RECITE THE WHOLE ENTIRE THING. (: (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ballet after that. (: Just hope it goes well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Senior tmr. :( Track camp's coming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright, gotta bathe real soon. Latah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-6833350242278694525?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6833350242278694525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6833350242278694525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/stripped-down-to-nothing.html' title='Stripped down to nothing.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2351217426144478715</id><published>2008-11-09T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T17:51:54.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Screws and balls.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I am feeling very tired. I feel like I may just break down any minute, except that I cannot because I don't think I would be able to take the feeling after that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't really feel like talking to anyone. Just, I'm going to study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Bye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2351217426144478715?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2351217426144478715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2351217426144478715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/screws-and-balls.html' title='Screws and balls.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-5057031899249080422</id><published>2008-11-08T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T17:52:24.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indelible Tattoos.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Here's the thing : I AM HOOKED ONTO A CHINESE SONG. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ballet yesterday was good but today was even better. At least, there was enough space to dance today. (: I really don't want to take inter next year! I am so freaked out. But it's the most important major exam because without it, you cannot do anything, even with the 8 graded certificate I have, well am going to have. Right now, I only have 7. 9 if you include primary and pre primary. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I wished Ms. Pang would hurry open more classes. Sat to tues is too big a gap. Senior on Monday is not counted. It's not like I enjoy senior anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-5057031899249080422?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5057031899249080422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5057031899249080422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/indelible-tattoos.html' title='Indelible Tattoos.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-5835932583558605442</id><published>2008-11-07T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T18:25:58.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Say it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then I would thank that star that made our wish come true,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause he knows that where you are, is where I should be too.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Such a sweet song. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, I skipped school today. Can't be bothered. And going to school would only add to my anger. Seriously, What Does Everyone Want From Me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I am only one person. And if you cannot deal with me having friends apart from yourself then just screw off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I think I shouldn't post anything now. The anger is hurting my ability to type grammatical sentences. Maybe later&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-5835932583558605442?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5835932583558605442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5835932583558605442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/say-it.html' title='Say it.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2372541473128688</id><published>2008-11-06T03:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T04:40:58.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fourth finger of my Left Hand.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;'Right here right now' in HSM3 never fails to make me tear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Today was stupid. I felt like a zombie throughout. But something funny happened. Grace wl teng and me were sitting at the track board, trying to decide if we should go for chinese lessons. When it was 2, we still couldn't make up our mind and then suddenly, we saw Mrs Ding. From what I inferred, she was chasing the girls who wanted to pon up to class because the girls were trailing reluctantly behind her. ALTHOUGH, wl didn't agree with me. So we were afraid, and hence ran behind the glass staircase. We stayed there for fifteen minutes and although we didn't say, we pretty much knew what our decision was. (: Then when we walked back to the track board, ms f was at the staffroom looking down. We were scared stiff and grabbed our bags, well okay, hillary and grace grabbed mine and wl had to grab her own, (: and ran out of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Training was shit. Ten rounds today. One round is 700m. You do the math. But actually, it's not really so much on the rounds. It was more of the Stupid Callous Sun that shone down on us so hard that you can see the tan on my legs and arms within an hour. It only went away after I had finished. It always happens like that doesn't it?  Plus, I had to run alone because we were late. While running, the only thing that kept me going was 'Don't think, Just Run'. And you know why? Because whenever you think, it's either positive or negative. And when you're as tired and as weak as one can probably be from running, the thoughts that are likely to enter your mind would probably be negative because the more you run, the weaker your mind becomes and the less immune you will be to negative thoughts. So the best way is not to think and JUST RUN, damn it. Ironically enough, I thought of all these just now while running. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;We headed to macs thereafter and then home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I WANT THE WORLD NOTHING LESS ALL THE GLAM AND THE PRESS. (: I want it all by Ashley Tisdale and Lucas Gabreel ( I think). So funney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;OH IT'S CAN I HAVE THIS DANCE NOW. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Hahaha. I had a lot of things to say when I was on 53 earlier on. However, I did not have a phone to type whatever I wanted to type out so now I cannot really remember. Screwballs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You. How long have we been friends? Three years? You've been great. The problem lies with me, as always. Anyway, regarding that message, it's not that we are strangers. Well okay, you feel that way. I feel it too. It's just that, &lt;strong&gt;I am dealing with much more than I am willing to let out right now&lt;/strong&gt;, you don't know what it's like for me every single cold cold night. And I don't blame you, I don't expect you to understand because I pretty much don't myself. I don't tell you anything not because I don't trust you, but because I just can't tell anyone. I don't do the 'hear my problem' thing. I like, well not like but, am used to, keeping things to myself. There are just too many things that when accumulated, will become difficult to say because it just becomes this whole big cobweb of problems all stuck together. Sometimes, I don't even know how the problem starts. It just multiplies and then when I try to put it into words, I screw up and will always end up saying The Wrong Thing. When I look at you, it's like, there are so many things I hold back and try not to tell you. I don't want to dump my junk into your life. I don't like to impose problems on someone whom I know have enough of her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yet, the main problem is that, telling you everything just makes me feel naked, to the truth. I feel exposed and vulnerable. It's an intangible feeling that I cannot put into words. I just, I think all you should know at this point is that no matter what I say or in this case, don't say, I still am open to just listen to you. I just don't like to talk much about me nowadays, that's all. And it's not just to you hon, I swear. I don't tell &lt;u&gt;anyone&lt;/u&gt; anything. Everyone thinks they know me. Everyone who thinks they know me think I am fine but what the hell do they know? Nothing. And it's not their fault, really. Whatever it is, please just remember that you're no stranger to me. I just don't feel that it is necessary to tell you what is happening because really, I'll be blunt, what difference would it make? Nothing will change, telling you or anyone for that matter would only compound the entire situation because &lt;strong&gt;a problem is never as bad when you don't say it.&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, I know I am running. Deceiving myself and living in the shadows. But I want to do it that way, I don't want to face up to it because I know that even if I do, I would lose. So, what the hell, I'll run for &lt;strong&gt;as long as I deem fit.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;There, having said that, I hope you don't feel offended. You're a great friend, you know that don't you? (: I don't deserve your concern, really. But deep down I know that whenever I have a problem, you're probably the only one I can count on for help. Thank you for everything. I appreciate it, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2372541473128688?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2372541473128688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2372541473128688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/fourth-finger-of-my-left-hand.html' title='Fourth finger of my Left Hand.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-4124157872244529355</id><published>2008-11-04T06:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T06:44:25.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That I'm still his little girl.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;GERM! IS THIS BIG ENOUGH A FONT FOR YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Haha germ the worm complained today that my font was so small she had to highlight every line just to be able to read whatever I was typing. Hahaha. Okay it is small, I admit. But I like it small what!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, today was good. First we met at Bishan and Grace and Wl were late by ten mins because when I took the 53, three buses came consecutively behind one another because there was some jam in the morning or something and they missed ALL THREE so they had to wait very long for the next one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Just my luck, out of the three buses, the noisy aunties from the market just had to come up mine and they were speaking so loudly I couldn't even hear the voice of the artist singing the song in my psp. I was so annoyed, I could've went up to their faces and screamed ' SHUT UP' if not for my lack of courage. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;So then we ate at foodcourt and then headed to serangoon. Training wasn't so bad. We were supposed to do 8 sets round the stadium but on our 5th set, the thunder came and he stopped us. He then made us run inside the stadium, up the stairs and all for two rounds so that we wouldn't cool down and upon finishing, we had to continue with our 3 sets of long run. So that was fine. Then 3 sets up the stairs, which is run up one stair in a section and down the other side in the same section. And for your information, there are about five sections in the whole stadium so that was pretty tiring. But it is way better than the sprinting around the stadium thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cooled down after that and eft for ballet. Ballet was fine, better than expected actually. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now I'm finishing chem homework cause there is school tmr and there is chem. Shite. I hate chem, you know? I find it freaking pointless. And the only reason I came online was to find out what is the difference between an atom's symbol and a molecule's symbol. Yes, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, long day tmr. STUPID SCHOOL. G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-4124157872244529355?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4124157872244529355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4124157872244529355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/that-im-still-his-little-girl.html' title='That I&apos;m still his little girl.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2033251054522705642</id><published>2008-11-03T05:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T05:44:08.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High, fly, cars.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;'I don't know why but I just think you look very much like the ghost in my nightmare.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;SCREW YOU SAM. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, I think I really look like everyone's nightmare because of my lack of sleep. I just cannot sleep and I have these ugly eyebags under my eye which I try to make less obvious by wearing glasses. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'll try sleeping earlier tonight. I didn't fall asleep until 2am yesterday. It was eerie, the silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I think I want to change my URL again because I really don't like you reading my blog. Seriously, don't you have a life? Or are you a freaking stalker? I mean, yeah it's the internet but still, why do you have to terrorize me with all the facts-about-my-day that you find out from my blog? HELLO. I KNOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ever. Really, I think this world needs more normal people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I sound like I am in a bad mood but I am not, actually. In fact, I'm veryy happy. Let's see today was unproductive but at least I was with the trackers and I guess that is all that matters. (: We met at orchard at 10 and went to taka and I ate FIVE BREADS. Okay 3 breads, one croissant and one muffin. Hahaha. I love bread now, I told you. Then we went to borders and then headed to citylink and then to marina square and then to school and finally to grace's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Bishan AGAIN tmr. Hahaha. Training then ballet after that. Long long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;How to tell Mr Lim I don't want to take cross. I will probably antagonize him so bad that he might just ignore me forever. Not that it matters, but I don't like being ignored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Solve this predicament for me and I would be eternally grateful to you. I don't mind the training, really. But I don't like competitions, never did. I suck at them anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;But it's not losing that I'm afraid of. It's the after dose of knowing that you havn't done your best that sucks.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ever. This is so not the time. G'night happy people! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2033251054522705642?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2033251054522705642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2033251054522705642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/high-fly-cars.html' title='High, fly, cars.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-740251862549619548</id><published>2008-11-02T06:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T06:56:30.569-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Live like you were meant to.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You know, I really feel like typing something intelligent and thought-provoking for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;But, my hands are too numb from the aircon and I don't think I have the ability to even form a grammatical sentence, much less type something even close to 'clever'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So, forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, I bought a new book today called 'missing'. Somehow, it seems like an integral part of me to constantly read books that are depressing and tragic. I don't know, I guess it gives me this intangible sense of readiness, like if I read more books like the aforementioned, perhaps I can prevent it from happening to me. Or at least, be more prepared when it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I have to sleep now. Long day tmr. G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-740251862549619548?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/740251862549619548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/740251862549619548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/11/live-like-you-were-meant-to.html' title='Live like you were meant to.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8427267546048519708</id><published>2008-10-31T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T00:09:23.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't forget, we still do.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263580457781809394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-iejF0PI/AAAAAAAAANg/TNSkdyugzzI/s200/12-01-08_1116.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Just last year, cca fair, there were only five of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263580465911385058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-i81VS-I/AAAAAAAAANo/Pi2QAIkH6Ds/s200/12-01-08_1117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;We had some misunderstandings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-i1wCL2I/AAAAAAAAANw/tdpJL-LkuQc/s1600-h/29-10-07_1501+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263580464010112866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-i1wCL2I/AAAAAAAAANw/tdpJL-LkuQc/s200/29-10-07_1501+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt; Then, just four of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263580472463073762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-jVPYIeI/AAAAAAAAAN4/z7I7t_oT6T0/s200/love+(4).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we're back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263580471178321554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-jQdEXpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/4g3VLFkgeik/s200/playground+(3).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And it's about time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;We've come a long way. Of course, in between there were even more separation. It became hillary and wanleng, grace and van, glads and me. People came and people went, in the end, we're all back together again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Like I've always said, even if it's just one person, we're still not complete. When your pinky is chopped off from your right hand, would your hand still be the same?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Go figure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8427267546048519708?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8427267546048519708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8427267546048519708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/dont-forget-we-still-do.html' title='Don&apos;t forget, we still do.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SQv-iejF0PI/AAAAAAAAANg/TNSkdyugzzI/s72-c/12-01-08_1116.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8297914007429916081</id><published>2008-10-31T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T20:09:43.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi-5!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I was busy watching Hi-5 last night and even now. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It's really sad that Tim, Kathleen and Charli all left. Tim left because he was involved in a serious motorcycle accident. Kathleen left after she gave birth to her first child and Charli left because she wanted to 'challenge herself'. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wonder if they are still friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yesterday went pretty well. We're meeting on monday, again. Haha. Oh well. It beats staying at home and rotting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;There's senior later, I think. Sucks. Howw I don't want to go lehh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Oh, well. JUST GO, YOU NINNY BRAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Byee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8297914007429916081?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8297914007429916081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8297914007429916081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/hi-5.html' title='Hi-5!'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-4978056647102665807</id><published>2008-10-30T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T05:18:04.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, the loser wins.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;GUESS WHAT SONG I AM LISTENING TO NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Okay don't guess I'll tell you, 'Nothing in this world' by Paris Hilton. Yes laugh. Hahaha. I've ran out of songs to listen to manz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Okay now it's stars are blind. Haha inspite of myself, I think the songs are actually quite nice. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Training was very very very very very tiring fullstop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Today we were all supposed to meet at Bishan at 12. But wl came at 1230 and glads came at 124o? Vani the best. About 1. Haha forget it. HILLARY AND GRACE! NEXT TIME WE JUST GO AND EAT FIRST. THEY CAN JOIN US FOR YAMI YOGURT LATER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then we headed to serangoon stadium and my nightmare began. First, long run. Six rounds around the stadium. Our numbers decreased with each passing round from 8 people to only 4. Then next, the sprints around the stadium, ( Killer), from 8 people to 4 again. The first two sets were not too bad. But the last few sets everyone simply gave up. Oh, well. I don't blame them actually. It really was veryy tiring. Try sprinting 700m four times. I am so not looking forward to the next training! Apparently, I am in cross. Screw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So tmr we will be going to Grace's house at ten for the sec 4 farewell, AGAIN. The sec ones are really hardworking you know! Like, with every break that they get in training, they will work on their props. So sweet right? Sadly, most of them are starting to drop, as usual. For training I mean. No one wants to join cross, except for Blossom. Hahaha, what a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;If I was the one&lt;/u&gt; ( Ruff Endz, center stage soundtrack)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the way he treats you,&lt;br /&gt;I feel the tears you cried,&lt;br /&gt;And it makes me sad,&lt;br /&gt;and it makes me mad,&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing I can do baby.&lt;br /&gt;Cause your lover is my best friend,&lt;br /&gt;And I guess that's where they story ends.&lt;br /&gt;So I've gotta try, to keep it inside.&lt;br /&gt;You will never be,&lt;br /&gt;never be mine but,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;If I was the one who was loving you, baby.&lt;br /&gt;The only tears you'd cry would be tears of joy.&lt;br /&gt;And if I was by your side,&lt;br /&gt;You'll never know one lonely night&lt;br /&gt;And if it was my arms you were running to,&lt;br /&gt;I'd give you love in these arms of mine.&lt;br /&gt;If I was the one in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;If I could have just one wish,&lt;br /&gt;I'd wish that you were mine,&lt;br /&gt;I would hold you near,&lt;br /&gt;Kiss away those tears.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be so good to you baby.&lt;br /&gt;You're the one I want next to me,&lt;br /&gt;But I guess that's just not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;He's there in your life,&lt;br /&gt;And he's sharing your nights,&lt;br /&gt;It'll never be,&lt;br /&gt;never be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;If I was the one who was loving you, baby.&lt;br /&gt;The only tears you'd cry would be tears of joy.&lt;br /&gt;And if I was by your side,&lt;br /&gt;You'll never know one lonely night&lt;br /&gt;And if it was my arms you were running to,&lt;br /&gt;I'd give you love in these arms of mine.&lt;br /&gt;If I was the one in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yeah, baby.I wanna reach out and view beside me,&lt;br /&gt;Right here beside me, babe.&lt;br /&gt;Take you in my arms right now,&lt;br /&gt;Scream 'I love you' right out loud.&lt;br /&gt;Some day I pray,&lt;br /&gt;that I'll find the strength,&lt;br /&gt;To turn to you and say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;If I was the one who was loving you, baby.&lt;br /&gt;The only tears you'd cry would be tears of joy.&lt;br /&gt;And if I was by your side,&lt;br /&gt;You'll never know one lonely night&lt;br /&gt;And if it was my arms you were running to,&lt;br /&gt;I'd give you love in these arms of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If I was the one in your life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;This song will make you cry, if you really listen to it. However, this song no longer makes any sense to me. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Not anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. Nevertheless, it is still a great song. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright I want to sleep now even though it is only 8. Haha. G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-4978056647102665807?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4978056647102665807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4978056647102665807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/sometimes-loser-wins.html' title='Sometimes, the loser wins.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7088215378740915914</id><published>2008-10-29T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T05:22:51.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Lost You Prick.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I got an 'I HEART' QUESTION MARK written on the back of my hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Second post for the day. Even though, I have nothing I want to say. Nothing of great importance anyway. (omgosh it rhymes!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someday, you will wake up and smell the break up. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;No, I didn't go the way you planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't want to talk about my day. But at the very least, I did finish the a math online assesment! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright, I fell in love with bread all of a sudden. So much so that I am going to eat bread for dinner. Haha. The pictures on WL's blog have raised certain unwanted yet expected 'talks' from her Fan Club. NGWANLENG! I suggest you get rid of them. Specifically the one that Your Stalker zoomed in on. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't want to get murdered along the school halls next year okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm feeling very happy. Sugar rush maybe? But strangely enough, I didn't eat any sweets today, not because I didn't want to but because I finished all the edible sweets in the fridge. I think I'll go buy some now. G'night! (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7088215378740915914?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7088215378740915914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7088215378740915914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/get-lost-you-prick.html' title='Get Lost You Prick.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7561952372588784783</id><published>2008-10-29T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T20:02:20.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody wants to be the last one there.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Nice Wl posted the pictures of sentosa on her blog. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So I was supposed to go to Bishan today right. But I decided against it for many reasons. But the sole reason is because I think it would be selfish if I were to take up a whole table meant for four people. It would be so awkward, when a group of people comes in and stares at me because I am alone and taking up the whole table. SO, I thought, starbucks? But I didn't want to spend money, recession and all. So I wanted to go to Burger King at Airport instead. But then I thought it would be funny to sit there the whole day eating fries. I would probably puke. Plus, it would make my pens and books oily. So BK was out. And so I'm left with no choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And when I woke up, my dog was so happy. And I realised he has been staying home all alone for the past weeks so I decided to keep him company. (: So now, I'm stuck, with nothing to do. I would rather go for training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I miss ballet. But the nightmare of taking grade 8 is finally starting to unveil. I want to quit senior, it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright I am not about to launch into another long and draggy post. So, I'll be off. HI-5 JUST STARTED! BYEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7561952372588784783?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7561952372588784783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7561952372588784783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/nobody-wants-to-be-last-one-there.html' title='Nobody wants to be the last one there.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-6568485410452763860</id><published>2008-10-29T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T05:40:43.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I was The One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Deleted a third post that I left on for 5 mins just to let off steam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I figured, why should I be the one getting angry? Didn't I already tell myself last year that my motto in friendships is ' DON'T CARE'?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That motto can be read two ways. Decipher it any way you want. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;CRUNCH TIME! G'NIGHT LOVELY PEOPLE! (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Song : If I was the one-center stage soundtrack&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-6568485410452763860?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6568485410452763860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6568485410452763860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-i-was-one_29.html' title='If I was The One'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7387064324631154108</id><published>2008-10-28T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T05:37:49.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a minute.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Went for lunch at Bishan before we went for training and let's just say that training was unprecedented and very tiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Came back and gulped down a bottle of yakult before showering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wonder, what shall I do tmr?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;s&gt;SLEEP&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You know, I've been thinking, that perhaps if I didn't stay so faraway from school, I would be a different person. Let me exemplify further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Staying further from school would mean that I would have to travel a comparably longer distance as compared to my other friends, which would mean that I would have to spend time on buses for a longer period of time right? And everyone knows, when I am on a bus, I would shut out the world and start thinking, just me and my music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So, on the bus, I would be thinking about many different things, depending on the circumstances. And more often than not, I would be giving myself a sort of 'mental boost', like say whenever I do badly for some exam and am feeling lousy, I would be telling myself on the bus to snap out of that 'I am a loser' state and start relishing thoughts of improvement and strategies. IF I did not have the bus rides to do that, I would be simply flinging my bag on the floor as soon as I get home and then wallow in self pity and go to sleep. No time at all to think right? So I guess what I am trying to say is that if I did not had the bus rides time to myself, I would probably end up like the majority of the teenagers out there. Screwed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You'll always hear many teenagers who are locked up in Jails or Homes saying, ' I didn't think it would be a problem. I was just a runner for my friend.' Or, ' I didn't think I would get caught'. Or something along that line. You see that's the problem with most teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;They don't think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;There is a reason why our brains and not our hands nor legs are placed at the topmost part of our body. It's so that we would think first, before we act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So you see, staying away from school premises isn't necessarily a bad thing. (: You'll never know, always look on the bright side of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;That is not to say, however, that those people that stay near school will go to jail okay. I'm just saying that, if I did, I probably would. Go to jail, I mean. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Enough of that. I'm eating tapioca chips now! Haha. I've been wanting to post this but I keep forgetting. That Jesus is wonderful. (: And this really isn't the first time I've had my prayer answered. Before taking the EOYs, about three weeks before, I requested for something from Him. Of course, it had something to do with my results. &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And He didn't give me what I asked for, no He didn't. He gave me much more.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And that's why, no matter what people tell me about Him being overrated and fake, I stand firm to my beliefs for I know that He is really, really, really, the only way to eternal life. Yeah, I know. "I don't want to live forever so I don't care" and all that bullshit right? Well go ahead. We'll see about that sentence when Judgement Day comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You know, being skeptical and contradictory is not something you should be proud of. Questioning christianity is not an act of greatness. There's nothing wrong with questioning but when you dissuade someone from believing, that's when you're heading in the wrong direction.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;This post is really going to raise some serios controversy if I don't snap out of this whole ' Stand up for what I believe in thing'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So, G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7387064324631154108?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7387064324631154108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7387064324631154108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-minute.html' title='Just a minute.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8182396549194113883</id><published>2008-10-27T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T06:51:25.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shine. Within and Without.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Had church on yesterday and it was fine. After church we headed to marina and we ate at Burger King, AGAIN. But I don't really mind actually. I like BK the best, among other fastfood restaurants. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then after that, the boys went to Joy's house to play and so Joy came to mine. The adults were at Living Hope or something. Then we did nothing. Just watched Bring It On and the parents called so we left for dinner at Eunos. It was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Stayed over at Joy's house, like I mentioned and we watched the last episode of Crimebusters X2 and then we watched The Gringe. It was veryy nice! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Slept after that cause we were really tired. Then today had breakfast at Changi Village followed by shopping at Queensway. I didn't buy anything though. Then we headed to Bishan to take a look at Aunty Felicia's new house. Dinner at Kovan after that. Dinner was fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Headed home after that already. I am so tired. Walk here walk there aimlessly the whole day. OH AND EVERYONEE GO AND BUY THE SWEET NIMM 2 FROM WATSONS! There's a new type and it's they are the soft ones. It's my favourite sweet, right now. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So I guess I'll go to sleep now. There's training tmr, darn. On a brighter note, wed's a free day for me. CIP time! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Song: I call it love-Lionel Richie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night, you. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8182396549194113883?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8182396549194113883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8182396549194113883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/shine-within-and-without.html' title='Shine. Within and Without.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-549774445072797978</id><published>2008-10-25T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T23:56:18.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Name of our First Memory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think it's time I told you the truth.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Pictures of sentosa at WL's blog! But there's only a few and they're all like shit. But we're going back again so I'll make sure we take better ones! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Staying over Joy's house later. There goes my 'doing-cip-at-bishan-library'. Haha. Alright better go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-549774445072797978?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/549774445072797978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/549774445072797978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-think-its-time-i-told-you-truth.html' title='Name of our First Memory.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-6359764633794356356</id><published>2008-10-25T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T03:53:56.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So sick of Love songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;This question has been in my head for the longest time : What am I really good at?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't see myself succeding greatly in something, anything for that matter. I mean, I understand that not everyone can be Micheal Phelps or Abraham Licoln, but I've been wondering, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;if not everyone can be then why should anyone even be at all? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I mean, I know, life isn't fair but that alone is not enough to atone for the gross unproportionate distribution of talents, money and luck around the world. Why can people like Paris Hilton be allowed to stay in a hotel which costs US$200,00 per night just because she wants to when there are poor people out there in Africa just struggling to snap out of poverty? Why is it that there are people who can score straight As their whole life effortlessly when there are others out there who study so hard just to scrape by to the next level? Are you telling me that by saying ' Life is unfair', is enough an explanation for this? Are you telling me, that we should just accept that life is unfair without at least trying to question the rationale behind it all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Of course, for the people who belong to the group where they are the ones getting the brighter side of life, it would be much easier for them to accept that Life is unfair, since they are getting all the benefits. But for the majority who belong to the other side, is the only way to survive really just to accept all that has been thrown to us until we just grow old and die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You know, being Paris Hilton does not gurantee you a smooth sailing life. But it would definitely make life a whole lot easier. Yeah, "Money does not make the world go round huh?" Well that's the politically correct way of saying it. In reality, right now, money is in fact, the only way round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway back to my point about what I am good at. Honestly, nothing. I dare not say that I am the best at something. I dare not say that I can do something really really well. All my life, I've always been second. Being second is not a bad thing, I know. But trust me, being second your entire life is definitely frustrating. Being treated like a Second your whole life just makes you accept the fact that you are destined for that spot and should simply pull out a chair and sit in that position forever. Being Second Best, is one of the worse place on earth to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I hate Second.&lt;strong&gt; Give me a Last any day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-6359764633794356356?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6359764633794356356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6359764633794356356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-sick-of-love-songs.html' title='So sick of Love songs'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8504898317092758054</id><published>2008-10-25T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T21:09:56.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The sweet taste of bitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I just wanted to say that the people who pretend like they are profound and deep are fake to the extend of disgusting, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;More next time, I am having trouble coming up with the right sentences. No inspiration. Time to read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8504898317092758054?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8504898317092758054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8504898317092758054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/sweet-taste-of-bitter.html' title='The sweet taste of bitter'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8867190796163541205</id><published>2008-10-25T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T20:42:43.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frozen beneath the shadows</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;s&gt;Crush&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I still think Jesse Mccartney sings 'bleeding love' better than Leona Lewis. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So today is going to be a Boring day with a capital B. My idol left for australia yesterday and I'm sad cause that means I won't be able to see her for the next few trainings. COME BACK SOON IDOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Closed off from love I didn't need the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All these while, you've been nothing but a speck of my reverie.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ballet later and for some reason, I am not looking forward to it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I miss going for training suddenly. I miss going to Bishan to take neoprints. I miss meeting in school every day to plan for sec4farewell last year. I miss meeting every morning at the assembly area. I miss laughing. Next year is coming and we're all going to scatter off in different directions. I will miss them, I swear I will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8867190796163541205?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8867190796163541205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8867190796163541205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/frozen-beneath-shadows.html' title='Frozen beneath the shadows'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-5653715578657382289</id><published>2008-10-24T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T09:20:47.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it that important?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I just wanted to add something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Report books. Class position. Is it really as important as many deemed it to be? Why are we so fixated on things that are so shallow? Aren't we all working toward a more important goal? Ultimately, it's O levels that count right? So why, are so many people harping on the whole class position thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Honestly to me, it's nothing. Because at the end of the day it's whether you know you've done well or not. So what if you're the first few in class? That doesn't mean you're smart. I took my report card and compared it with Grace. And she did wayy better than me, by a long shot and yet her class position is only average. What does that show? Is class position really valid to the extent where it can determine whether you are classified into the 'smart' or 'not so smart' or 'dumb' category?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Class position, I'm saying this now, is not an accurate gauge on how well you did. I won't say my position here but I'm saying this now. I did not do well. I know, this is probably considered 'rubbing it in' for many who is behind my position but honestly, I am saying that at this point, I reallyy did not do well. I cannot emphasize that enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;O levels are nearer. And we cannot always harp on the fact that our class position is lousy or whatsoever. We need to rationalise. Snap out of it! Get your mind straightened out and think of your next step. The report slips are finished. This year is gone. We have to focus. Looking back at our failures is not going to help us do well the next year. And letting our past failures control and prevent us from reaching our ultimate goal is really very stupid. What is EOYs as compared to Os? We have goals to achieve and living in the shadows of the past is certainly not one of the ways we're going to get them. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Think,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; of your next step because whenever the road looks bleak, always remember, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;if there was a way in, there will be another way, out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm going to say this to whoever who wants to hear it. If you're going to let your failures control your life, then you will never ever, be a victorian.&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;"As long as the birds are still flying and the stars still shining, for as long as I shall live, I would stand up on my own feet and rise above my fears to conquer the challenges set out for me."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"&gt;There's a world out there, waiting for you to fall, are you going to show them the failures of your past? Or the success of your future? Think, think for yourself. It's your life against the rest of the world. Show them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's your game, play it the way you want to.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-5653715578657382289?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5653715578657382289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5653715578657382289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/is-it-that-important.html' title='Is it that important?'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2373347252744504719</id><published>2008-10-24T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T08:40:34.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I have this dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;"I love hsm because it's a fairytale"-Wy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You know, that is precisely why I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ironically enough, I am going to say I loved hsm3. It is like ZE BEST one compared to the first two. But I hated it cause it was too good to be true, and &lt;strong&gt;it made me sad to know that things like that can never happen in real life.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Nonetheless, it was a great show and I strongly encourage anyone who has a pair of eyes to go watch it, at least twice. I'm watching it again with joy! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Corbin Bleu has never been hotter. And Vanessa Hudgens is prettier than ever. Ashley Tisdale is beautiful and Zac Efron is hot but not hotter than Corbin, of course. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So anyway after watching hsm with the lovely shobana, I went off to harbourfront with van to meet grace, glads, teng and wl. The six of us went to play at the fountain outside bakerzin and then took the monorail thingy to sentosa. We had a GAHREDD time taking photos and going mad, after really long. You know, the six of us have really been through tremendous ordeals and I would say that through it all, we've all took away a lesson of some sort that would forever act as an indelible mark in our hearts. I guess, the five of them are one of the few people I don't think I can ever forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Having said all that, I'm just going to add on that I really do love the five of them. As a team. The six of us. The way it has always been. The way it will always be. I love you guys. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Hillary sent us all a really sweet text earlier on and usually I would be the retarded and melodramatic one to do all that mass message thing but today teng sent us, ' Thanks for today guys I've never had so much fun for a long time. I love all of you. ' Speaks volume about this friendship doesn't it? (: But let me just say, we have not had it easy, this friendship I mean. Problems after problems but we overcame them and emerged victorious, right? That's what I call, A True Team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;The aforementioned people are not the only friends I treasure alright. I still love shobi and heyong as well. We have been together since sec one and people came and went but the three of us have always stuck together, no matter how tough it all became and so I love you guys more than life. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright enough of all these. Just yesterday wl and I went to send the people who were going to china off and I reached home really late, like at 12. I fell asleep after finishing my leg raisers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Pictures soon! G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2373347252744504719?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2373347252744504719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2373347252744504719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/can-i-have-this-dance.html' title='Can I have this dance'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7469644225904882384</id><published>2008-10-22T03:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T03:22:44.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carving Clay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RcGeB_I/AAAAAAAAAM4/6MFkEL26TsU/s1600-h/maria+alexandrova+5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259918791346620402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RcGeB_I/AAAAAAAAAM4/6MFkEL26TsU/s200/maria+alexandrova+5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RuchJUI/AAAAAAAAANA/0Lh9SxeYKH4/s1600-h/maria+alexandrova+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259918796270937410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RuchJUI/AAAAAAAAANA/0Lh9SxeYKH4/s200/maria+alexandrova+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RykRsqI/AAAAAAAAANI/EVphA-SfcVs/s1600-h/maria+alexandrova+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259918797377221282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RykRsqI/AAAAAAAAANI/EVphA-SfcVs/s200/maria+alexandrova+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78R91sT4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/W0fTqydY4BA/s1600-h/maria+alexandrova+4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259918800403058562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78R91sT4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/W0fTqydY4BA/s200/maria+alexandrova+4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78SE5AfDI/AAAAAAAAANY/kwpiU1-EDZ4/s1600-h/maria+alexandrova+6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259918802296011826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78SE5AfDI/AAAAAAAAANY/kwpiU1-EDZ4/s200/maria+alexandrova+6.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feature: Maria Alexandrova&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;She's pretty right? (: Anyway, school has been mundane recently. I havn't been sleeping much though. Let's see, monday I had senior until about 10 and I reached home really late, 11plus? Then I had to do a math, some stupid paper which he didn't even go through in the end. So I slept at around 12plusone and I got up at 5, as usual. Then there was training and boy was it tiring. Not to mention, it was raining so we were cold most of the time. Plus, straight after training ended, I had to cab down to tampines for ballet. Which was a killer because of Ms Pang's developpe exercises. So after ballet ended, I bought starbucks cause my head was pounding real bad and then after drinking, I instantly felt better. Coffee withdrawal, I suppose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Came back, fell asleep on the sofa. Haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Today had dance module which was 100% lame and no-fun-at-all so I guess I didn't really bother doing. If you didn't know, fun is actually the main motivation of my doings and decisions. If something is fun then I would agree with no consideration whatsoever to do it. If it isn't fun then nah, forget it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;NEWater was kinda lame. Oh, well. There's training tmr at serangoon stadium. GOOD NO MORE 5K. (: But we're doing 400, I think. Sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I guess, we're both great at pretending, holding back and saying things we never mean.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night. By the way, I never got to wish you but, it's never too late, right? All the best hon. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7469644225904882384?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7469644225904882384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7469644225904882384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/carving-clay.html' title='Carving Clay'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SP78RcGeB_I/AAAAAAAAAM4/6MFkEL26TsU/s72-c/maria+alexandrova+5.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3841490305783958050</id><published>2008-10-19T05:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T05:54:17.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Inspiration hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm wondering, why are cats afraid of dogs when you never see a dog eating a cat? Why are cats even said to be afraid of dogs when you don't usually see a cat running from a dog? More like, a cat hissing at the sight of a canine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So why? Is the world always saying things that aren't always proven? Is it because cats indeed were scared of dogs? Or is it just because some looney saw one particular cat running from a dog and decided to generalise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;There are many things in this world that are far beyond our comprehension. And many a times, when yousearch too much, and know too deep, you'll find that all you have are answers that you've never wanted to know. You'll be left with even more questions that are close to impossible to answer. "Seek and ye shall find". Yet, the bible didn't say that, whatever you find would necessarily satisfy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Many people devote their entire lives to find answers they know they wouldn't like. The question is why? Why do people knock at the doors of misery, all on their own accord? Why do they try so hard to find answers that are not necessary? Why, don't they understand? It wasn't the dogs who killed the cats, it was curiosity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I've seen women with high-flying careers commit suicide over night, like as if, their lives, the lives they have worked so hard for, never ever meant a single thing. They searched, day in day out, to find one answer. Some to find who their fathers were, others to find out why they have weird nightmares of unfamiliar things at night and some search to find life and it's meaning. And yet, sometimes, they don't end up with the anwers. &lt;strong&gt;Just more questions.&lt;/strong&gt; When that happens, they start to give up and in extreme cases, many simply end their lives there and then, without consideration, whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It's tragic, and it will always remain a mystery. No one can really understand a human's mind. It's far too complicated and way too mystical. People do things and say things that can shock and kill. Every day, people do things that are more often than not, unexpected and unresolved. Everyday, people die, from the questions of their own minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Indeed, curiosity not only killed the cat. It is going to kill all of us, eventually. It won't be global warming, nor World War Three. It'll just be us. Like I always say, &lt;strong&gt;we are the only ones to be blamed for the tragedy of the human race.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;To run the race. The word 'race' doens't necessarily mean the race of life, as politically correct people always try to convince us. It is actually about running the race of our own nightmares. Because once it catches up with us, we won't be able to fight it, not like the way we think we would be able to. No knight in shining armour and certainly no magic potion. It's just us, as we were created, against the very being of our souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Everyone has their own nightmares. Everyone will find themselves one day, in search of something that might seem important at some point but everyone one day will come to know that searching isn't always the best way of finding the right anwers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Most importantly, &lt;strong&gt;sometimes even the right answers end up wrong in the end.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-3841490305783958050?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3841490305783958050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3841490305783958050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/stuck-in-time.html' title='Stuck in Time'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3910667899489233616</id><published>2008-10-19T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T04:27:12.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anywhere I could run</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Today I thought I'd never get through,&lt;strong&gt; I got over you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yes hon, it's you. Well actually, I'm not over, like over. because technically speaking, I never was on the same side of the wall as you. But I think we both know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You who think you really know me at all. You who think you can say whatever the hell you want and then pretend like nothing ever happened. The only you who can be so vicious and yet so ingenuous at the same time. You win, hands down. I'm waving my white flag, I surrender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;From this on, we're done. All our pacts, promises and things we've thought of doing? Forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Can't believe I was that close to falling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, yesterday was good. Ballet was blah cause ms pang combined the grade 7 and 8 together so it was pretty unproductive. Then, after that jia and I went to starbucks and I saw Corbin. But I didn't really talk to him, just that he took my order and gave me the wrong cake. Then we headed down to marine parade and found out ms lee wasn't going to be there so we left. And coincidentally, my mom called and told me we were going to sakae at the airport with Joy's family to celebrate my brother's birthday. So I took 15/27 with Jia to the airport and went to meet them. Jia went home because 27 loops and she can take to the airport and loop back to her house. We had a good time talking. I love you hon. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And sakae, I ate like, a lot. Haha. I was so happy that I just kept eating. (: Then after that we went to swensons and ate ice cream. The earthquake was so disgusting that we started throwing all the ice cream and whip cream into the dry ice that was placed in a glass bottle, in the middle of the ice cream surrounding it. Haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It was about 1115 by the time we left and since I had to go to church the next day, my brother and I stayed over at Joy's house. Then church was fine and then PS for lunch. It was broing cause rebecca was busy studying for Chem tmr. Then after that went back to Joy's house and watched HSM1 and Shrek the Third. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Home now. I'm so sick of reading things I don't like to read, in fact, expect to read, much less from you. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-3910667899489233616?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3910667899489233616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3910667899489233616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/anywhere-i-could-run.html' title='Anywhere I could run'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-1594817746906753985</id><published>2008-10-17T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T19:27:06.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain In Winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love you, and that's all I really know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Hey. How long has it been? I've been wondering, if whatever I said ever meant anything to you. You know, I've known you for practically all my life. I still remember, there was a time when you made me cry because you said, ' I don't play with girls anymore'. I ran to your mom and complained. She gave me an ice cream and I stopped crying. But I was still mad at you, and when you realised how silly you were, you plucked some grass, tied them together, made a ring and said, ' If you wear this ring, I won't make you cry anymore'. I asked, 'why?' You said, ' My mommy said if you give a girl a ring, you must not make her cry because if she does, she may give you the ring back and then I will be  the one crying in the end.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You remember that? We were Primary, 3? Yes, it has been very long. There was another time when we were playing hide and seek and you couldn't find me and it turns out, I was eating ice cream in front of the television. You were not angry, instead you asked, ' Where's mine?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;We had so much fun together. (: Now, I don't know. Our innocence, all gone, suddenly, all our little actions in the past made sense, not coincidence. I don't know. I feel like&lt;em&gt;, we are meant to be.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Three hugs, two kisses and one last goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm sorry, I guess I was indecisive. I don't expect you to wait, really. I'll never make up my mind, it's impossible. Maybe someday I will understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I've always known that I loved you. But it was only when people started asking, how far does this love extend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It was only then, that I realise, love actually can reach two different points in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Whatever it is, I've always loved you, and whichever destination we end up at in the end, it would have been God's plan and I'm sure, everything will fall into place, someday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-1594817746906753985?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/1594817746906753985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/1594817746906753985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/rain-in-winter.html' title='Rain In Winter'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-5014009933538479915</id><published>2008-10-17T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T05:26:37.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ran Out Of Lines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Lessons were crap, especially chem. Emath wasn't so bad, surprisingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So, stayed back for the track camp planning cause apparently, ms ferng wanted the proposal in by today. It was progressing rather well until we showed ms Ferng our ideas. So what else is new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't know. We've only planned for a while and I'm already drained. Honestly, I don't really see the point, not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Well, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I fell into a deep sleep on the bus just now. I didn't even wake up until the bus went over the hump in the interchange. (: I guess, the thinking-on-the-bus-rides just don't work for me anymore. My mind's way too drained and I just want to sleep everytime I watch the cars pass by. I am not going to sleep now! I WON'T MISS GABON AGAIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I feel like going to BL tmr. But I feel bad for taking up the space of people who really have exams. I just want to do a math cause I don't want to lose touch. But, I don't know. Maybe I'll just sleep in and go for ballet in the afternoon. Starbucks! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-5014009933538479915?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5014009933538479915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5014009933538479915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/ran-out-of-lines.html' title='Ran Out Of Lines'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-4043167901147569750</id><published>2008-10-16T04:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T05:08:24.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk about the Volume</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It's like, shut up already, moron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;YOU. Long day today. Stupid sex talk today, like the information didn't sink in the first 4million times?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Missed training cause I had doctors' appointment for my bunion. The doctor said a lot of things but I only heard, ' No ballet'. Screw you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Bunions are one of the most common forefoot deformities. A displacement of the bone under the 1st toe occurs. This causes the big toe to move towards the smaller toes. This shifting of the bones causes a bony prominence on the side of the patients foot (the bunion joint). Over a period of time the big toe may come to rest under (occasionally over) the 2nd toe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bunion is more common in women than men due to women wearing tighter fitting shoes. This condition can cause a variety of different soft tissue and bony complaints which may result in severe pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms include redness, swelling and pain which may be present along the inside margin of the foot. The patients feet may become too wide to fit into their normal size shoe and may experience moderate to severe discomfort may occur when the patient is wearing tight shoes. A "hammer toe" may occur at the 2nd toe. This is when the toe contracts and presses on the shoe. Subsequently, this may cause a corn on top of the 2nd toe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It hurts but I won't stop doing pointe, though it is the main cause of my bunion. It makes my foot ugly. Like very. My big toe is pointing to my second toe instead of front. And my mom calls it 'ugly feet'. Thanks, that helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Whatev. So after school I reached home at around 315 and changed and grabbed my swimming stuff and left the house at 330. Reached Mount E at around 4 and once again, in the car, I was thinking about a lot of things. Initially, I wanted to blog about them because it's been a while since I did but I don't feel like now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Then the appointment ended at around 440. Headed down to changi to swim, one last time. At that time it was around 5. Swam 30 laps till 630 and decided to not do the last 20 cause I was too hungry and then took a cab down to starbucks to buy macchiato. Smiled at Corbin, took my drink, left. Then I got home and I was veryy hungry and so I finished dinner in 10mins. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright. I feel like skipping school tmr. It sucks. Let's see. Break, ss, pe, english, chem, emath. Double for all, except for break pe and ss, duh. But I feel like I havn't been using my brains for a long time, so I guess I'll go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I want to sleep now. Corbin was busy today, making some other persons' drink. Tsk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-4043167901147569750?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4043167901147569750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4043167901147569750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/talk-about-volume.html' title='Talk about the Volume'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7812031160900644100</id><published>2008-10-15T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T05:08:44.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer air</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPXcwGvh5TI/AAAAAAAAAMw/x58_3Opj_uM/s1600-h/CorbinBleuPicture003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257350859026720050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPXcwGvh5TI/AAAAAAAAAMw/x58_3Opj_uM/s200/CorbinBleuPicture003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Feature: Corbin Bleu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;How can anyone be so desirable? Corbin is so hot right. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Mr Corbin asked what me, 'Then what are you doing here?' And it was so gently spoken that I wanted so badly to say, &lt;em&gt;'to see you'. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;That was partly true. About 60% of my inclination to go to starbucks was because I thought he would be there and I kinda missed him. 40% was craving. We talked for a while and he asked me about my exams. And I wished I told him the reason of my presence but instead I shrugged and lifted my drink, a mark of my reason, unspoken. Also, I asked for grande size. And he gave me venti. I said, ' I didn't ask for venti'. He winked. (: I wanted to give him 50cents but figured he wouldn't take it. So I said thanks and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright I just woke up, actually and I don't feel like doing the ballerina features today. There's training tmr and I am not pushing, lest they think I am serious about joining cross. Honestly, I don't mind training for cross. But I am not taking part, whatever it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Darn, I forgot to wish Corbin Happy Hari Raya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Serious Infatuation.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7812031160900644100?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7812031160900644100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7812031160900644100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/summer-air.html' title='Summer air'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPXcwGvh5TI/AAAAAAAAAMw/x58_3Opj_uM/s72-c/CorbinBleuPicture003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3360564828196078516</id><published>2008-10-14T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T06:47:13.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting the Invisible</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfR5UDT2I/AAAAAAAAAMo/jIe1g5DbE1Y/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(7).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257001794839727970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfR5UDT2I/AAAAAAAAAMo/jIe1g5DbE1Y/s200/marianela+nunez+(7).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCG-IoxI/AAAAAAAAAMA/RgrBNQ_-tcU/s1600-h/marianela+nunez.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257001523627991826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCG-IoxI/AAAAAAAAAMA/RgrBNQ_-tcU/s200/marianela+nunez.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCZzEz3I/AAAAAAAAAMI/5DyjGdrZhdQ/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257001528681877362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCZzEz3I/AAAAAAAAAMI/5DyjGdrZhdQ/s200/marianela+nunez+(2).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCW9J1ZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/fa_q1R1fUEM/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257001527918843282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCW9J1ZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/fa_q1R1fUEM/s200/marianela+nunez+(3).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCRgkN2I/AAAAAAAAAMY/s1WE-nzK0OE/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257001526456760162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCRgkN2I/AAAAAAAAAMY/s1WE-nzK0OE/s200/marianela+nunez+(5).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCgLHrHI/AAAAAAAAAMg/7DSrERBGvc0/s1600-h/marianela+nunez+(4).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257001530393341042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfCgLHrHI/AAAAAAAAAMg/7DSrERBGvc0/s200/marianela+nunez+(4).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feature: Marianela Nunez&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;She was auditioned by Sir Anthony Dowell in 1998 and joined the Royal Ballet School in 1999 and became Principal in 2002. She is most well-known for her 'Gold Standard Technique'. She is one of the most technical dancers. Clean and precise, exactly what a ballerina needs. She is born in Argentina and does not come from a family with ballet background, like many other famous dancers. She insisted on taking up ballet even though she has never seen a full ballet. Almost all of her performances received high acclaim from some of the most discerning critics."In early 2007 Marianela once again took the lead in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Swan Lake" style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: none; COLOR: rgb(0,43,184); TEXT-DECORATION: none; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial" href="http://www.blogger.com/wiki/Swan_Lake"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Swan Lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;, of her performance one leading critic commented “every gesture sings, every step is luminous with emotion. The result is sublime". (Taken from wikipedia).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;She is as I always say, beautiful. But she really is. Really really. Whatsmore, she is after all, a Royal Ballet Principal. To me, Royal Ballet is second in the world, after Paris Opera. Followed by Mariinsky theatre. Actually, it is not very fair to compare like that but I love Paris Opera because they have dancers that execute beautiful lines and their strength and flexibility always amazes. Same goes for Mariinsky. Royal Ballet's different. It emphasizes more on clean and precise footwork. Like basic closing to fifth even after very fast jetes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Go watch Sarah Lamb, perfect example of veryy clean technique. Also, Royal Ballet dancers are always very sweet-looking. Except for Miyako Yoshida. I don't really like her, though she is mostly adored by the public. Oh, well. Different taste. Maybe Japenese dancers are not as exciting to me. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;SO, today was boring, fullstop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Training. I pushed for 3K. Yep, can't believe it. I don't know. Maybe I just don't like to lose. One thing's for sure, the reason I pushed is definitely not because I want to improve. I don't even like running. I have no inclinations to take any competitions next year. It's just going to be Grade 8, inter and Os. And maybe senior. So bye bye track. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It is going to be hard to tell Ms ferng and Mr Lim. At the rate I'm going, I don't think I ever will. And I think I'll end up skipping selections, and getting scolded after that. Ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm going to cut hair at T and G tmr, I think. G'night!&lt;/span&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/3879834581364045526-3360564828196078516?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3360564828196078516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3360564828196078516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/fighting-invisible_14.html' title='Fighting the Invisible'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPSfR5UDT2I/AAAAAAAAAMo/jIe1g5DbE1Y/s72-c/marianela+nunez+(7).JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7048740594076935464</id><published>2008-10-13T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T06:51:03.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alina Somova</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPne6plI/AAAAAAAAALY/wmST5m7juC8/s1600-h/alina+somova+(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256647712949577298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPne6plI/AAAAAAAAALY/wmST5m7juC8/s200/alina+somova+(5).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPqtGu4I/AAAAAAAAALg/J6qTtwM2bp8/s1600-h/alina+somova+(4).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256647713814395778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPqtGu4I/AAAAAAAAALg/J6qTtwM2bp8/s200/alina+somova+(4).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdP2xfH_I/AAAAAAAAALo/n41h7Ke-DT8/s1600-h/alina+somova+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256647717053997042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdP2xfH_I/AAAAAAAAALo/n41h7Ke-DT8/s200/alina+somova+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPyPrKSI/AAAAAAAAALw/cfPWEBImMgE/s1600-h/alina+somova+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256647715838437666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPyPrKSI/AAAAAAAAALw/cfPWEBImMgE/s200/alina+somova+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdQIIv3dI/AAAAAAAAAL4/jaNr6lwON0w/s1600-h/alina+somova+(7).bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256647721714965970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdQIIv3dI/AAAAAAAAAL4/jaNr6lwON0w/s200/alina+somova+(7).bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feature: Alina Somova&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I love her. My favourite dancer yet. Beautiful extensions. She graduated from Vagonova Academy of Russian Ballet. If I am not wrong, she joined the Mariinsky Theatre in 2003 but she isn't the principal dancer of any company at the moment. Many do not really like her because they say she 'cramps the ballet style'. Like, she is trying to turn gymnastics into ballet and it looks like she is doing 'rhythmic gymnast en pointe'. But it's not her fault she is wayy too flexible. She's just like Sylvie Guillem. Both of them have what the critics call, 'ear-whacking extensions' and they think it is 'not suitable for ballet style'. But I beg to differ. I think they are beautiful. (: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I can't seem to post the video, but the link is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzNfhUixHqo&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzNfhUixHqo&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Go watch it. She's so sweet. She's everything I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7048740594076935464?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7048740594076935464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7048740594076935464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/alina-somova.html' title='Alina Somova'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPNdPne6plI/AAAAAAAAALY/wmST5m7juC8/s72-c/alina+somova+(5).jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-5739498564670100602</id><published>2008-10-13T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T06:50:11.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chase after Misery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ditched the features for today. Lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Went blog hopping as I was too tired from stretching and trying to improve my developpes. Ballet's getting more and more demanding and I am just sick. I am getting dismayed, tired and thoughts of giving up have been coming into my head. Believe me, I love ballet more than anything else, but it's just, it eats you up, you know? You push and bleed and drip but that alone doesn't gurantee you a spot in the world of ballet. A ballerina's dream; To bow before an applauding audience on a world class stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;How many of them actually get it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And the rest? They slug back to their families and friends as nothing but failures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You gotta face it. It's much more realistic being a Pilot's wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I love ballet. Close; this is probably the only time I don't say 'love is fake'. Speaking of which, I went blog hopping and many people were struggling with boyfriend/girlfriend problems. It's all pretty comical to me. But for someone who doesn't believe in love, I sure seem to pity them a great deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;'If he doesn't think you're worth the sacrifice then, he doesn't deserve you'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;'Hey Girl, ditch the tears and pull yourself together because you know, you deserve much more than he is willing to give'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Blog hopping has also made me realise that many people are not what they appear to be. I was pretty much shocked as I visited blogs I've never visited before, probably cause I thought it would be pretty much predictable. But, wrong I was. In school, I think, I look more of the 'I-like-to-use-vulgarities-when-I-type-and-I-am-always-emo-because-my-boyfriend-ditched-me' kind. But hahaha. Funny, I don't think my posts are anything like my looks. For one, I am not vulguar. That is given. For two, I am complicated, screwed up, really. But I don't dwell on relationships. Mainly cause I never love. When I get the vibe of ' I-want-you-to-chase-after-me' from a person that I kinda like, I switch off. I'm sorry, I don't do the chasing. Not because I think I am too good for it, but because I think the person isn't good enough. For someone who hates looking in the mirror because all I see are the imperfections, I sure love myself a lot. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want happy.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;If there's one thing I learnt from this world, it's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lying To Get Your Way.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-5739498564670100602?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5739498564670100602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/5739498564670100602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/chase-after-misery.html' title='Chase after Misery'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-6984345176354747767</id><published>2008-10-12T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T03:34:46.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And live it out loud</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNwrwc3yI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-SG8UjuNt-w/s1600-h/alina+cojacaru.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256208476381437730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNwrwc3yI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-SG8UjuNt-w/s200/alina+cojacaru.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNw6rObSI/AAAAAAAAALA/cUTZtkgLy38/s1600-h/alina+cojocaru.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256208480386051362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNw6rObSI/AAAAAAAAALA/cUTZtkgLy38/s200/alina+cojocaru.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNw5wS2tI/AAAAAAAAALI/xj-YtTnAOpc/s1600-h/alina+cojocaru+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256208480138877650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNw5wS2tI/AAAAAAAAALI/xj-YtTnAOpc/s200/alina+cojocaru+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNw2ffOiI/AAAAAAAAALQ/DppXpRIKawI/s1600-h/bridge+of+aspiration+(+rbs+2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256208479263078946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNw2ffOiI/AAAAAAAAALQ/DppXpRIKawI/s200/bridge+of+aspiration+(+rbs+2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feature: Alina Cojocaru&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;The last picture shows the 'bridge of aspiration' of the Royal Ballet School. As it has always been the wish of Ninette De Valois to have the company to be linked with the training schools, this 'Bridge of Aspiration' thus links the Royal Ballet's upper school with the Royal Ballet Company. It is called the Bridge of Aspiration because all the students aspire one day, to cross the bridge and become a part of the Royal Ballet Company. (: It's beautiul isn't it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alina Cojocaru is the principal dancer of the Royal Ballet School and only joined royal ballet school at the age of 16, after winning a scholarship. She started off as a gymnast. Though she is not really my favourite, I still think she is beautiful anyway. (: However, I still like Polina Semionova more. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright so yesterday turned out better than expected. Ballet was good, as usual. We finished atude lyric already and almost finished dramatique. I love dramatique. It's a sad dance filled with deep emotions and evokes a sense of sadness in the audience. I think the dance is beautiful. Love the music. (: Despite it having four grand jetes continous without any runs in between, I still want to do it. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And then senior. It was fun. Ms Lee made us do like this grande battement ala seconde en pointe as part of the step in the whole performance. Our row has to do it four times. And I was surprised I didn't fall. Haha. But when coordinated with the arms, it is actually a very beautiful line. Performance is on 13 dec in Victoria Theatre. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't know why I'm smiling so much in this post. Haha. The guys went down to play soccer so I'm all alone at home. I want to eat dinner! Tsk. There's senior tmr again until 930. Gosh. But at least I get to dance. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright the parents are rushing us for dinner already and I need to bathe. So G'night!&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/3879834581364045526-6984345176354747767?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6984345176354747767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6984345176354747767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-live-it-out-loud.html' title='And live it out loud'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPHNwrwc3yI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-SG8UjuNt-w/s72-c/alina+cojacaru.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3892143813639077969</id><published>2008-10-10T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T22:15:09.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's not my name</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwCxok-HI/AAAAAAAAAJk/A0FPYJhl_tw/s1600-h/polina+semionova+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255753589382772850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwCxok-HI/AAAAAAAAAJk/A0FPYJhl_tw/s200/polina+semionova+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwC3fQZ4I/AAAAAAAAAJs/zYXhIL_35cA/s1600-h/polina+semionova+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255753590954289026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwC3fQZ4I/AAAAAAAAAJs/zYXhIL_35cA/s200/polina+semionova+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwDLA6W7I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/7gDc8HcQueM/s1600-h/polina_seminova+(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255753596195724210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwDLA6W7I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/7gDc8HcQueM/s200/polina_seminova+(5).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwDAlUI_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/BJJIF_hCO0g/s1600-h/polina+semionova+(6).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255753593395618802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwDAlUI_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/BJJIF_hCO0g/s200/polina+semionova+(6).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwDJsApDI/AAAAAAAAAKE/M4KMlEor1TQ/s1600-h/polina+semionova+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255753595839620146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwDJsApDI/AAAAAAAAAKE/M4KMlEor1TQ/s200/polina+semionova+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feature: Polina Semionova&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;She's beautiful isn't she? Both as a person and as a ballerina. (: She trained in Bolshi Ballet School, which explains why she's probably the youngest Principal at the age of 18. *Jealous*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, Chase isn't spelt C-H-A-S-E. But C-H-A-C-E. Just realised. But he is hot. And he looks like Zac Efron. Even better. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So yesterday, went to Bishan with teng and WL. Finally. Haha we ate ajisen and it was nice! Then after craving for so long, I finally ate Yami Yoghurt (?). Hahaha. We went to Bishan library yesterday and was denied entry by the security guard cause we were sucking lollipops. So we stood outside the library and I bit the sweet of its stick and WL just didn't want to, bite the sweet off I mean, so she wrapped it in a letter and stuffed it in her file. Gross much? Hahaha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;But she still bit it off in the end in the toilet. After washing the sweet with the tap water. (: And then we took up space at the tables just lying around and laughing a little too loudly. So when we saw this guy standing up, we immediately thought, oh shit he's going to complain because he already said, 'SHH!' very loudly earlier on, so we stood up and left. Haha cowards. I reached home arund 8 and jonathan was over so they were watching soccer. As I was bored out of my wits, I went to read a book on my bed and fell asleep and missed survivor. Damn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I slept from 9 to 630. Then630 to 9. So basically I slept for 12 hours. Wow, finally. I think it's cause all the papers are finally out and I can sleep in peace again. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ballet later then senior. Tsk. 3-830. Damn I don't mind ballet but senior's just such a chore. Blah I need to think of an excuse for not turning up on Monday. Later! &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/3879834581364045526-3892143813639077969?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3892143813639077969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3892143813639077969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/thats-not-my-name.html' title='That&apos;s not my name'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YsuYPNk9trY/SPAwCxok-HI/AAAAAAAAAJk/A0FPYJhl_tw/s72-c/polina+semionova+(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-1027993278249238639</id><published>2008-10-09T05:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T05:50:59.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turn it all around</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You, please hear me out for one last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;First things first, your message. I didn't mean to not reply you. It's just that I left my phone in the room and was waching tv in the living room the whole time, mainly because I know some bitches were about to send me messages I didn't want to see. I was tired, of staring into a screen and reading words that cut so deep. At 11plus, I looked at my phone and there were your messages. Cold and distant. Well I'm sorry but that wasn't what I was hoping to see, not from you. After all these time, &lt;em&gt;I still wonder how fragile a friendship can be.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Secondly, your words, pissed the shit out of me. I'm being honest here so forgive me for my bluntness. I, for one, hate it when people say, 'my fault la my fault'. But that's not even the point yet. When you said those words, it cuts, alright? It hurts and I don't think I deserve that from you at this point. I know, that's exactly what I would have done if it were me who messaged you and I can understand where you're coming from, but I was hoping I never have to see a Me, in You. Because if there's anything I hate more than &lt;em&gt;Him&lt;/em&gt; in this world, it's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Third, the message you sent two nights ago was fine, until That Line. What the hell, do you want from me? I'm so tired, really. Let me off, please. I know what She's going through right now, believe me, don't I know it. But I also know that it's impossible for me to save her anymore. I don't want to hurt me anymore. And I thought you wouldn't want to either. But I think, I was being presumptuous again. I thought you cared, even a little. But it turns out, it was always about Her, right from the beginning. And who's to say you're wrong? You guys have been friends far longer than I've been yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Look, I don't want to go on holding back what I've always wanted to say to you. I think it's best you hear it one last time before we stop talking altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I trusted you, you don't know how much I did. I never said it, but that's only because I don't like to express how I feel, it makes me insecure. I thought you could sense without me even saying anything verbally. I still wish I said something earlier. &lt;strong&gt;You're not my dream come true,&lt;/strong&gt; and that is because, even in my wildest dream, I will never expect to find someone that truly understands. I'm too deep to comprehend, far too complicated to solve. But, you're, different. I guess it's because of the fact that I'm so much like you and so different from everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;We're far too alike to get along, I think? That's the only reason I can think of that explains why we've never had a smooth time ever since we started this whole, thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;To end of, I would like to say I'm sorry. I know, this isn't the goodbye I thought we would have but I guess this is the best and as it seems, only way to end off right now. Well all the best for Os. You'll do well I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You were right, I did do satisfactory, results wise. But I'm not happy. For what it's worth, I'll have you know, that at one point of my life, your presence was the only thing that mattered at all. G'night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-1027993278249238639?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/1027993278249238639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/1027993278249238639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/turn-it-all-around.html' title='Turn it all around'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-4409130447036686079</id><published>2008-10-08T04:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T04:45:34.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a papercut</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;When you take time to harvest the heart, you'll find out what you've been doing wrong all the while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Funny, today. You were not even near contemplation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I had a rather good time laughing away in the Agape Hall today. All thanks to shobi. Haha but really, it was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;By the way, to everyone who got affected by my bad moods yesterday, I'm terribly sorry. Maybe it's you, but I have a feeling it's just me. I don't want to be all, 'It's all my fault and yeah la I'm to blame', that kind of self-reprimand thing. I think people who do that are plain pathetic. But yesterday I have to admit, it really was my fault. I think I'm deprived from ballet or something, because I'm always in a bad mood when I don't have ballet. So, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Anyway, tmr's probably results day. Plus there's training after that. Tell me tmr's going to a bad day already. What with all the company. Stupid SR. Can't stand them, and to the people who think they're cool, well let me just say, they're damn hell not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I was watching grey's anatomy two nights ago and it was so nice! I think I found a new craze already. One of the doctors in grey's anatomy is like, hot. I think he's what a man is all about. (: Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Actually, I'm pretty hyped up about training. I think all I need is to sweat it out. But, this is only what I'm saying now. Come tmr, it'll be a whole different story altogether. There are mainly two determining factors; results and sugar rush. If I find that I've screwed all my papers, then I probably won't want to go for training. If I don't have sugar rush, then I'll probably hate the whole lot of Them. So, pump me with the sweets babe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I have no idea why I'm ranting but I just want to say, if I could, I would marry Chase. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night!&lt;/span&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/3879834581364045526-4409130447036686079?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4409130447036686079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/4409130447036686079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/like-papercut.html' title='Like a papercut'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-8328102186600251174</id><published>2008-10-07T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T05:04:41.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes and No</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WELL, today went well didn't it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-8328102186600251174?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8328102186600251174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/8328102186600251174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/yes-and-no.html' title='Yes and No'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-647010445020628921</id><published>2008-10-06T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T04:53:26.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey there, Handsome.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I had fun today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's probably pretty ironic. I mean, I was kinda dreading this whole innovation week thing cause I thought it would be 'all work and no fun'. But it turned out pretty well. I havn't laughed like that in ages. And I totally wasn't intending to today. Laugh, I mean. But ever since we met in the morning, I've been laughing all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;As they say, laughter really is the best medicine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Never once, not even once today did I stop to think about you and your lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You're stupid. But who am I to judge? I was stupid enough to believe you wasn't I? Well, you can bet that it'll probably never happen again, not for the rest of your damn life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Everyone falls; But when you're with me, you'll fall first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I love you Shobi. You're the best. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-647010445020628921?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/647010445020628921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/647010445020628921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-had-fun-today-and-thats-probably.html' title='Hey there, Handsome.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-3909580883316700695</id><published>2008-10-04T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T20:41:52.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Kitchen Table.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;" There is a price every man would willingly accept, even for what he hopes never to sell"-POTC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;Still trying, still thinking, still stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;Alright, yesterday was not nice. But it sure was fun. Haha. Let's see, ballet at 3. I love grade 8 work! Especially atude. Okay then after that headed to starbucks after ( a new record of) one week! Hahaha. But unfortunately ( or not?), Corbin wasn't there. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But I'm not anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;Then, after that senior dance. I swear, yesterday was the first time I actually perspired after so long practicing for the concert. Haha. Oh, well. But I like the bus rides home cause it's veryy long and I like long bus rides. (: There's senior on monday again. Like, 8-930. Crazy. If it was at tampines it wouldn't be that bad but at marine parade? Tsk I don't even want to go, even for the bus rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So when you call I'm pressing seven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;S'posed to go to church today but cause I slept at 3am, so my mom said I could sleep in. And I stayed up reading. This book is even nicer than the stupid jackie collins one. The latter book is simply sick. I resold it to sans bookstore and I got 10 bucks back! So technically I only paid 5bucks for that stupid book. Oh, well. I'll treat it like I paid 5bucks to expose myself to the 'not-so-nice-side' of the world. Another step to maturity. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;I finally found a phone I want. Nokia 5800. It's kinda like iphone. But better. (: I'M GOING TO GET IT! YAYE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;Alright I'm off to watch 'at worlds' end' now. G'night! ( Habit)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;Song: It's over-Jesse Mccartney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-3909580883316700695?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3909580883316700695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/3909580883316700695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/our-kitchen-table.html' title='Our Kitchen Table.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-731375570043548444</id><published>2008-10-03T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T05:41:20.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worth fighting for.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I can't stand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I can't stand the way you think I am that interested in your silly and 'attention-seeking' letters and messages. Please, cut the act. I know for a fact that you've nothing to show actually, just a lot of discrepancies to hide. Stop trying to pretend in front of me just so that you can prove to me how high your supposed social status is. Do I look as if I am even interested at all?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Stop pretending like you have a lot to hide. The whole 'I-am-mysterious' image is so not working on me. And really, do you really not know why people always get mad at you? It's because you are melodramatic and dense. Like as if that's not enough, no. You're attention-seeking at that. I'm so piqued. And by the way, my anger is not a sign that I care. It simply means, you're hopeless. Forget it, alright? I can see through you. There's nothing actually. All the complicated love stories, messed up domestic roots and friendship history are nothing but a ploy to get people to sympathise and to be involved with you, just so that you may seem like you have a lot to handle and you're a'very-important-person'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Look, I know that in the world we live in now, only being important and complicated will you be able to portray the image of sheer greatness and popularity. Well, that may work for a clever few, but definitely not for you. You, you are suited for a life of scum and disdain because of your tendency to over react and make a mountain out of a molehill. And of course, not forgetting, procrastination. I know, you'll probably be indignant with defences when you read this but whatever. It's not like we can get any worse than we already are. Let me tell you this, one.last.time. I've given up on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Tired, thought I could save you from drowning but you know what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;"I quit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;There, anger vent, it's time for proper things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So today we had this talk in the agape concert hall. He was rather good, could tell why he's paid 1000 bucks for 3 hours. Except, though not everyone was able to appreciate his content. Yet, many were so fixated on his pronunciation errors. Yeah, it may seem funny at first but when the laughter keeps going on and on, it only shows how immature and rude PL-lites are. Know an expert when you see one. Who are we to speak with such condescending tones when we ourselves have trouble passing basic goegraphy even? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;The speaker today, was an engineer. A master in physics and geography even, so shut the hell up and show some due respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Let's put it this way, if you think you can do a better job, why don't you take over his? And I swear, if you suck, I wouldn't be discreet in showing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Our group's really, you know, enthusiastic. Hahaha. We're meeting on monday and I suppose everything should be fine. At least that's what I hope. Anway I'm tired of elaborations and I think I'll just leave out the seemingly unimportant details to next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night! One more thing, I love POTC. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Song: The calling-our lives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-731375570043548444?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/731375570043548444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/731375570043548444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/worth-fighting-for.html' title='Worth fighting for.'/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-7951537400082493254</id><published>2008-10-02T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T19:53:02.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;As it seems, you were never far enough to be forgotten, yet never close enough for comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm not sure, for how long, I will be keeping this blog private. It seems kinda frustrating talking to myself all day. But I just feel like isolating myself from the rest of the world because everyone just seems to piss me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I can't, no matter how hard I try, seem to be rid of this ' I-am-unhappy-but-I-am-not-sure-why' feeling. It sucks, you know? Like I never have the mood for anything, nor for anyone. Staying home makes me bored but going out makes me feel sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Maybe, I really am sick. And anyway, there isn't anyone to go out with so it's like, my whole life before the exams were like starbucks ballet. Now it's just training, ballet and minus the starbucks. Shite. It's been reallyy long since I last saw Mr Corbin. But I'm sure he doens't even care so I should just stop this whole craze over him because there's always two sides and it's stupid to be on the 'I-am-the-one-who-cares-side'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Saying I don't care makes us seem like primary two. But honestly, I really don't care. Not about you, nor the rest of the world. All I want to care about is myself. Because once upon a time, when I actually did care for others more than I cared for myself, I received nothing but a wounded truth of what this world really is. No one cares, not for you. You're on your own in this world and only the strongest will be victorious. A lesson learnt, is a knowledge lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Sick of this dress and these Jimmy Choos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-7951537400082493254?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7951537400082493254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/7951537400082493254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/as-it-seems-you-were-never-far-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2642302184472042010</id><published>2008-10-01T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T03:12:19.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I think my phone's beyond repair. Oh,well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So today was yet another unproductive day. I woke up at ten and lazed around, eating a lot of junk (I always eat junk when I'm bored) and then left to meet mom at orchard at 2. We went to repair the phone and the lady told us she needs to check out what is wrong first before she can tell us the cost for repairing it. And my mom said if the repair fees are over 100, then we'll just buy a new phone. But I havn't even found a phone I reallyy liked yet so I don't want to change! I guess, we'll see how it goes. I don't want to buy another phone on impulse and then later live to regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It gets really boring you know? Like, exams only ended one day ago and I am already bored out of my wits. I can't seem to get in the mood to play or go out or shop or for anything, for that matter. My mom wanted to bring me shopping but I declined. And I was shocked at my reluctance when she wanted to buy me things. I said, 'I just want to go home'. And so we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I guess, maybe I was just waiting too long for this day that when it's finally here, I can't help but be disappointed because, you know, reality will never be like our dreams, at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Plus side of today though, I bought yet another book. Haha I know I just bought one on saturday but that book turned out to contain reallyy sick and -unsuitable-for-me' content that I decided to chuck it away, despite it being very nice and all. It just made me feel uneasy. Anyone want it? I could give it to you, no charge. I just want to get rid of it cause it gives me the chills just looking at the author. I'm not kidding. The author has like very thick eyeliner on and is old and wears shirt that reveals her cleavage (sagging). She's like a witch out of a fairy tale book, or my nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Alright I'm off to research more about my bermuda triangle since there is nothing else I can do but rot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;It's like, a candle that just wouldn't light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2642302184472042010?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2642302184472042010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2642302184472042010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-think-my-phones-beyond-repair.html' title=''/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-2974352119626393186</id><published>2008-09-30T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T06:52:10.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'm going to orchard tmr because my phone needs to be repaired. I think I found a phone that attracted me. F305 Sony Ericsson. It is kinda like my current phone, which is why I like it because, if you havn't already noticed, I love my phone. Which is eminent from the fact that I bought it, twice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So anyway, I will still have to get my current phone repaired even if I'm going to buy a new one because that phone's not out yet. I've officially declared that iphone sucks simply because I can. Wait, I sound like such a bitch. What I mean to say is that, uh, well iphone just sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Do you need my undivided attention all the time before you learn how to be a person? I cannot be there for you, all the time. I'm your friend, not your Fairygodmother. Even princesses have to go through hardships to grow. What makes you think you can simply skip a step and ahieve self-actualization by solely depending on others? Part of attaining self actualization is the journey to getting there. You can't just sit on a roller-chair and expect people to roll you there. You'll have to learn to walk, stand up, and be the person you were born to be. Because the other part of the journey, is acceptance, and genuine believe, in yourself. Honey, no one is going to be there with you when you struggle because everyone else has struggles of their own as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;You have to learn, learn to be independent and matured. Learn to cultivate self-reliance and motivation before others can even step in to motivate you. At the end of the day, it's 'one man for himself' and if you think that we are living in a world without strangers then you're just plain naive. This world, has nothing to offer but mercenary sins and malicious intentions. Either you stand up and save yourself, or you would kill yourself even before someone intends to kill you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I have no idea where that came from or who it is even meant for. I just know that it is something I feel very strongly about; independence. That is because as of yesterday, I have already received from three people who need my consoling and advices. And most of the time, I would be more than glad to help because all of you are my friends. Once in a while is fine, but when it happens almost every day, frankly speaking, I get piqued. And tired and very very sick of you. I'm sorry but that's the truth. And I'm telling you now that no one, no one on this earth would ever want to listen to your 'full-of-crap' lives forever. No one at all. So either you learn to channel that into something useful, or you'll have no friends, trust me on that. I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night, you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-2974352119626393186?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2974352119626393186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/2974352119626393186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-im-going-to-orchard-tmr-because-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3879834581364045526.post-6942888803072697300</id><published>2008-09-30T02:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T02:27:09.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;I've decided to use this blog because I figured it's much easier as compared to my old one because this template's much simpler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;So anyway, I had a good time with Shobi and Heyong today. (: We'll do that again some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Right now, all I want to do is get some ' long-delayed-sleep'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alright, I'll let it go.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;G'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3879834581364045526-6942888803072697300?l=prosaic-letters.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6942888803072697300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3879834581364045526/posts/default/6942888803072697300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prosaic-letters.blogspot.com/2008/09/ive-decided-to-use-this-blog-because-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Wait.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17379063460453116217</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
