<?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-3243778644118693738</id><updated>2011-12-02T05:28:25.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Never Ending Tales</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-3838891709125178095</id><published>2011-12-02T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T05:28:25.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>truth</title><content type='html'>it's been so long since i last blogged. my blog's starting to look so dead. lol. i guess when people say that nothing stays the same, it is an actual fact. sometimes we tend to lie to ourselves. or perhaps holding on to the past stops us from growing up. time does change people no matter how much they deny it. the only way to stop ourselves from 'hoping' is to change with time to, in that way it saves us from heartbreaks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-3838891709125178095?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3838891709125178095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/12/truth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3838891709125178095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3838891709125178095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/12/truth.html' title='truth'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-1908694353085239846</id><published>2011-07-09T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T11:14:58.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>time passes and life goes on.</title><content type='html'>in life, we have friends. some who are true, some who are seasonal, some who only seek you when they're down, some who share lame jokes and some who are always steady like a rock who you know you can count on. but as time passes, everyone will move on. no matter how close you are, time will pull you apart. nothing stays the same. just like how the continents in earth will move apart in millions of years, like how the sun will eventually die off. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i used to think that friends will stay, well i have less than a handful who might stay. but as time passes i've realised that there will be some awkwardness in between that will form, eventually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've come to know that i've been lying to myself all these while. giving my all to every person who i care for. and especially to one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;after the absence of one another, we started to be friends again. we used to talk almost everyday. laughing about anything and everything. talking about things that happened daily. we were really close. and eventually i had some feelings towards that person. but as time goes we kept having issues with one another every now and then. from almost daily calls, to alternate calls, to occasional calls and to rare calls. and that caused the gap in between to widen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have seriously never cared for anyone this much, ever. to walk under the rain when we had an argument all the way to her house, to ditch a friend at the very last minute when she needed someone, from dropping whatever i was doing just to talk to her, organizing a surprise party, and folding an origami. these are the things i never did for anyone, not even all of my ex. would you believe if i said i have never attended any one of my ex's birthday party, what more organizing it. the only thing i have given to one of my ex is a small toy dog, and sweets, what more spending half a day trying to fold something just to put a smile on her face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sometimes i have always wondered, whether was i that silly to actually do all these for someone. putting her as one of my priorities in life. there was never once that i have never thought of her. i used to sit down and break down. but as misunderstandings keep repeating, eventually you just don't know how to cry anymore. it's like you're all numb and heartbroken. it's true that words are very comforting. what's the point of comforting someone with words but not showing it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it really saddens me that everything she says, sometimes just tend to be words. am i really the best to you? why doesn't it seem like it? am i only the best when you know i'm always there whenever you're having problems, and only pushing me away when you're happy with your other friends? you might say that i don't understand you, well maybe in this matter, but have you ever tried to understand me? do you know how painful it is to me? do you realise that i've not told you any of my problems already? it's because you're so occupied with your friends that whatever problems i have, you wouldn't be there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;have you ever felt being pulled when someone has problems, and only to forget you when they're out there enjoying their time with others? am i like a seasonal friend to you? questions keep popping out whenever things like these happen. why do i care so much about you, when you don't even give a damn? whenever people are around and we have our issues, we can actually just ignore one another, like asthough we never knew one another. do you know how much it hurts me? do you think i write things like these just for the sake of writing? things just keep building up inside, and i don't know who or what to let all these out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why did i even allow myself to fall for you. why am i that stupid? nothing lasts forever. you were right. and i have learnt that all these while, i have been lying to myself. trying to make things better, and yet things don't get better at all or worse. you'll never know, or never will you understand how painful and hurt i am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-1908694353085239846?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1908694353085239846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/07/time-passes-and-life-goes-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1908694353085239846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1908694353085239846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/07/time-passes-and-life-goes-on.html' title='time passes and life goes on.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-2359976915592650012</id><published>2011-06-07T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T07:05:02.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the best for everyone.</title><content type='html'>have you ever felt being stuck in the middle, not being sure of what to do? being right in between two souls who are in love with one another and you're in love with one of them? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and suddenly one day you come to know that something happened in between them, and one of them is badly hurt by it emotionally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what would you do to make her/him happy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe to some desperate dudes, you may think that, wow this is your chance man, it's like a dream come true to do your thing since she's vulnerable now. but no, i'm not happy at all. not even a bit. i'm really upset seeing her being like this. being so emotional, not being in control of things right now. i feel as equally torn as her. it really breaks my heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;its the first time hearing her cry on the phone for sometime and especially when she's some where far far away. i've actually felt like trading places with that guy, i guess she'll be happier? or at least not as heartbroken. because i know he'll make her happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;should i speak to him about what she's going through? should i make a deal with him? i'd rather break my own heart to mend hers. i've never felt this way about anyone before. not this much. i feel like i'm myself whenever i'm around her. the sensitive person deep inside. she brought changes into my life, made me more patient than i ever was. pulled me back to God. i can't let go of our fondest memories, but i think i'll be strong enough to go through it all. as long as she's happy and there's that smile back on her face, that's all that matters to me now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"loving someone means you want them to be happy, even if it's letting go of them" &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-2359976915592650012?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/2359976915592650012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/06/best-for-everyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/2359976915592650012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/2359976915592650012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/06/best-for-everyone.html' title='the best for everyone.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-1197830796523491889</id><published>2011-05-17T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T07:45:42.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;i just don't know how i feel right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;should i continue being a pillar, and still hurt deeply without being noticed?&lt;/span&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;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;or should i just walkaway from the promises i made, and forget and leave everything that happened and live life being so carefree?&lt;/span&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;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;my heart hurts, not that you'll know how it feels nor would you even take notice of it. &lt;/span&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;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;even if i were to disappear it wouldn't matter anyway, not like you'll care. &lt;/span&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;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;i care too much i guess, maybe i should stop.&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/3243778644118693738-1197830796523491889?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1197830796523491889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/05/lost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1197830796523491889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1197830796523491889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/05/lost.html' title='lost'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-1084860262066519190</id><published>2011-02-09T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T08:37:59.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/TVLB6gYoXxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DfL8ovRUeFI/s1600/18334_397763040603_524700603_10651588_2993711_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/TVLB6gYoXxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DfL8ovRUeFI/s320/18334_397763040603_524700603_10651588_2993711_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571728899880541970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/TVLBftD2wZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6v0q-wVQM-g/s1600/31122_10150191510220486_524290485_12566144_718964_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/TVLBftD2wZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6v0q-wVQM-g/s320/31122_10150191510220486_524290485_12566144_718964_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571728439426597266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really wanted to tell you how i feel from my own mouth yesterday. i'm always a chicken when it comes to telling you about my feelings towards you. whenever you're around me, words just get lost inside. my mouth doesnt know what to say to you, but my heart does. i just want to tell you that i really love you and i really dont know how to say it to you but it doesnt mean that i dont mean it. i'm really sorry i've always wanted to tell you since that day on christmas '09. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're leaving already today, i've been procrastinating about telling you for so long. i dont want to seem like a flirt to you. i'm sorry for that mistake i did for breaking your heart, i think, that many years ago, walking away from you. i guess you wouldnt forgive me for that part which made you still think that i'm the type who would like anyone easily and my feelings will fade really fast. you'll be there for 5 years, and i promise i'll study hard and try to get to aus asap. i really wanted to tell you in the car yesterday, but i couldnt. all i could do was just pinch your cheeks for that 2 - 3 minutes plus and not let go, telling you from my heart that i'm going to miss you so much. my eyes was about to tear up but i told myself i cant because, yeah your mom was in the car and i dont want you to be depressed. i really like you and i'll wait for you till the day i can pinch your cheeks again. i love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-1084860262066519190?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1084860262066519190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/02/you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1084860262066519190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1084860262066519190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/02/you.html' title='you.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/TVLB6gYoXxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DfL8ovRUeFI/s72-c/18334_397763040603_524700603_10651588_2993711_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-7914348751697854292</id><published>2011-02-02T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T11:20:49.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>lost of words at mouth, lots of words at heart.</title><content type='html'>1 more week to be exact till you leave. dont really know what i'm feeling or thinking atm. sucks to be me especially when its chinese new year. i had so much to tell you from the start, but as disappointments keep happening i just lost everything to say. have planned so many things to do to keep you happy right after your exams. fixed my skateboard, planned to go to the playground and be kids again. but since then everything just started going more awkward. we make up and things seem awesome just for that moment. and when we have our conflicts. it last 10 times more than when we're fine. guess i'll never get to tell you everything. i'm so confused. i just dont know what to do. things are so different now. we cant even talk like how we used to. imy greatest friend. i really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-7914348751697854292?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/7914348751697854292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/02/lost-of-words-at-mouth-lots-of-words-at.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/7914348751697854292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/7914348751697854292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2011/02/lost-of-words-at-mouth-lots-of-words-at.html' title='lost of words at mouth, lots of words at heart.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-4234663040678494438</id><published>2010-11-16T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T10:05:02.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>confusion.</title><content type='html'>i seriously dont know how i feel anymore. we used to be great friends. and now things feel so different and awkward. i feel like you've changed alot. but i just cant tell you. i care about how you feel. i feel so disappointed and sad its like losing someone you really care for. and suddenly due to certain problems you lose grip of that person. i may no longer be the best to you, but yeah, if everyone ditches you again i'll be there for you. just want you to know that you really are something to me. and i guess its hard to be as close as how we were back then. maybe now you think that everything i say, i dont understand you and stuffs but truth is i want the best for you.&lt;div&gt;i dont wanna watch you changing into someone else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i know you use all this sarcasm and stuff to protect yourself but dont you think of people around you? especially those who really care about you? i dont want you sarcasms, i dont want to see you wearing a mask, i dont want to see you acting like everything's fine when its not. i dont need all this from you. i just wanna know whats inside you. how you feel inside not outside. you may be worried that i might hurt you again but no im not going to let that happen again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as time pass its like we're going so far away. we live like, less than a kilometre away and its astho we're miles apart. maybe things are different now. things changed. just so you know that i'll always be that sensitive person to you. and i guess i'll never get the chance to tell you how much you mean to me and how much i really love you anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-4234663040678494438?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4234663040678494438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/11/confusion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/4234663040678494438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/4234663040678494438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/11/confusion.html' title='confusion.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-3762066710793851268</id><published>2010-10-18T08:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T05:10:24.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happiest day :)</title><content type='html'>gosh i've not felt so happy in like months? hahaha. well today was awesome seriously. asked her the day before if she wanted to go dominos for lunch. and she was like kinda okok as usual. and i didnt put much hope into it, because whenever i ask her out it never happens D: yeah all the disappointment right? :P and so i never actually expected her to be okay with it ! so happy man :DD and she's the first person who i have actually drove and went out alone with. i urm actually, google map the roads to see where i can avoid the jams and everything [long story] hahaha and i couldnt really sleep. scared i couldnt get up D:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then we met at canning and blablabla and drove to dominos. i dont know why whenever i see her i actually get like butterflies in my tummy man. but its not like i just knew her or something, i've known her for 4 years !!! D: i dont get that with anyone, not even my ex =.= and so we were in the car and i parked at dominos and we were mengada-ing at each other as usual and i said "omg you have pimples !" [seriously guys dont try to say that to a girl] LOLLL. and she was like acting like she was crying while covering her faceeee ! cute right i know ROFLL. and so i opened the door and went to her side and opened the door for her, and she was still covering her face. DAMN MENGADA WEH. LOLL but seriously la so adorable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I looked at her while smiling because seriously she was so adorable D: hahaha she never fails to make me smile :) and so i wanted to unbuckle her seat belt for her and hold her hand and help her off the car but, i didnt wanna seem like i was trying to take advantage. :P and so i was like sucha fruitcake, i was like "weh dont like that la". I MEAN LIKE DUDE WHERE'S MY GENTLEMAN-NESS. WTHHHH. JUST HELP HER OUT THE CAR LA DEI. shyt la i was too anxious? :O and so she stopped "crying" and she got off the car. and so we went to dominos and i ordered the food. and she sat facing me. and after ordering, i turned and looked and i was like *eh why la she sit facing me i shy la* and so i sat down and looked at her and we started talking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i dont know why im just sooooooo shy sitting infront of her, and i was like "eh, the sunlight behind you distracting me la" HAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHA. shyt i lied ! :O its because i dont wanna turn red while she notices it. and so i sat next to her instead. and she was like "how am i going to talk to you like that, you want me to keep turning my head is it?" GG.COM. and i like walked back and sat right infront of her. everyone was looking. because i looked like an ass and she looked so good :( and we talked and ate. and there was this moment when she asked me to order something for her to take home, i went to the counter to order and she put chili flakes on my pizza. LOLLLLL ! when i came back i was like "WHAT THE??" and she said "eat it. its not spicy" but gosh it seriously was. and it tasted like i ate some chili padi or something. damn spicy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i didnt wanna tell her that i cant really take spicy food coz it affects my stomach, but i wanted her to be happy and so i ate it. and i went home with quite a bad stomach D: sakit weh. hahaha. then after that we  left dominos and she opened the door for me. i.... felt... like... a...woman. HAHAHAHA. and so we walked and talked halfway and she fed me a piece of the crunchy chicken thingy. but gosh it was hot and pepperyy laaa. D: when we reached the car i unlocked the car and i wanted to open the door and i noticed her staring at the door. and i walked towards her and opened the door for her and she said "owh i thought you havent unlock the car" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA SHE'S SO CUTE LAA. and when we were in the car we continued mengada-ing again and i pinched her cheeks. gosh seriously damn cute laaaaaaa. LOL. she never lets me touch her head nor her cheeks last time. but i pinched her like 4 times? hahaha. she's just so adorable seriously. she complains that she's fat and everything. but she's not. she's so thin ! she says she eats alot but it seemed to me like she doesnt. D:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the pinching and mengada-ing reminded me of how there was once when we were younger i was standing at my balcony and she was standing outside my neighbours house and she was shouting how much she hated me. sometimes i hate myself for not appreciating her those days and even now. she's been the best seriously. no matter what mistakes i did, she's still always there for me. :) and after whatever happened for the past few weeks i'm glad that we went out today. she really did make my day. she's the only person that i'll be a girl instead of a guy, feeling shy and all. she'll always be special to me no matter what and i thank God for bringing her back in my life :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-3762066710793851268?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3762066710793851268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/10/happiest-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3762066710793851268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3762066710793851268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/10/happiest-day.html' title='happiest day :)'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-8629011489313313686</id><published>2010-09-29T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T13:11:24.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>random thoughts.</title><content type='html'>i heard about the rumours and all. about what happened that time in facebook. and you told me you felt like you were being controlled? i didnt expect you to believe what he said tho about some deal we made. i didnt make any deal whatsoever. i didnt even think of controlling you. if you think of believing what you heard then i can't stop you. because seriously i didnt mean anything and that dude kept saying that i'm just jealous and all. like wth man. if i was jealous why didnt i just tell him straight to his face then. and besides he has nothing for me to be jealous of. and i didnt like how he threaten me and screwed fw and sharon for no reason and kept bringing your name into the picture. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if everyone thinks i'm the culprit of whatever shit, i'll just stop bothering you for the moment i guess. there's like a gap in between us and suddenly this shit comes up. i just hope things get better between us. all this awkwardness is seriously hurting me. everything feels so different. sigh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-8629011489313313686?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8629011489313313686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/09/random-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/8629011489313313686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/8629011489313313686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/09/random-thoughts.html' title='random thoughts.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-8746316688603849925</id><published>2010-09-27T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T13:08:19.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when you're gone.</title><content type='html'>its the 28th of Sept 2010, 2 more days till October starts. just 3 months before you leave, and it'll be hardly a month after your exam and you'll be gone. even then, i bet we'll never get to go out together. you'd be busy with your preps, other friends, and stuffs. i feel really lost now, i just dont know what to say. its like a bomb thats ticking. i dont know if you feel it too, but i feel a really huge gap in between. am i losing you? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have so much to tell you, i just dont know how to start, what to say, where to begin. i wanna tell you that i miss you, but i dont wanna put it in words. i wanna tell you that at times i need you, but i dont want it to seem like i'm desperate. i wanna tell you that i need a hug from you, but i dont want it to seem that i'm trying to take an advantage. i wanna tell you that you mean so much to me, but i dont wanna make it seem like it's a lie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;its been so long since i liked you, maybe years? i still feel that guilt sometimes. i'm really sorry for everything. i wish i could go back in time and make things better, if not perfect. i remember the last time we talked, that was during your sports day or something, the time when you lost your phone and you were really upset and everything. and i think we prayed about it? and a few days or week or so you got a call from the repair shop telling you that they found your phone. remember? that was the last time we talked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm sorry for not taking what you said last time that you were leaving seriously. i would have been more patient then. i miss how you used to sing strawberry shortcake to me everytime on the phone, and i had a recording too of it in my old phone. i wish i could tell you "dont go". but its your decision, and whatever decisions you make i'll surely support you no matter what. i wish i could buy some time to fix everything. i'm sorry for affecting you too. i never knew that you'd always think of my feelings first no matter what. it always seemed to me like, at times you ignored me or you forgotten me or you'd only find me if you have problems. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i tried hard to keep a line in between us altho i liked you. but its seriously the hardest and the most painful thing to do. i'm sorry if i ever made you feel like a fool, for not knowing anything. i just dont wanna lose you. i know you have the rights to know, but i dont wanna make it seem like just ordinary words. and i guess even if i did tell you how i feel, you'd never believe so i guess its just better to keep quiet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i guess, when you leave. its gonna be hard for me. i didnt mean to break down the other day on the phone. i couldnt control my emotions when you asked me that question. i just couldnt lie. the song "when you're gone" reminds me of you. even the video, the part where the girl flips her phone. the phone you used to have, but yours was pink =/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(160, 82, 45); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;I always needed time on my own&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd need you there when I cry&lt;br /&gt;And the days feel like years when I'm alone&lt;br /&gt;And the bed where you lie is made up on your side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away I count the steps that you take&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how much I need you right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through&lt;br /&gt;The day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never felt this way before&lt;br /&gt;Everything that I do reminds me of you&lt;br /&gt;And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor&lt;br /&gt;And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away I count the steps that you take&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how much I need you right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through&lt;br /&gt;The day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were made for each other&lt;br /&gt;Out here forever&lt;br /&gt;I know we were, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I ever wanted was for you to know&lt;br /&gt;Everything I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;All the words I need to hear will always get me through&lt;br /&gt;The day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-8746316688603849925?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8746316688603849925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-youre-gone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/8746316688603849925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/8746316688603849925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-youre-gone.html' title='when you&apos;re gone.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-9083035738815600759</id><published>2010-08-23T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T07:50:57.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truth.</title><content type='html'>have been having lots of emotions this past few months. i'm the kind who gets affected by things, especially to people whom i really care for. Maybe for some, its easy for them to express how they feel to people who they like or care for. but for me, its like the hardest thing to do, opening up to the person i like. i was once an asshole who liked people easily, but after a relationship which failed after 2 years, and waiting for someone who i used to like, it really tested me alot.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;its like a test to see how patient you can get, just to please that special someone. but life isnt about smooth rides, or things which go as how you want to. its about the pain and sacrifices you go through. letting yourself hurt and to put a smile on that someone's face is really priceless.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;although we're just the best of friends, we can talk about anything or everything, but the thing that we find so hard to talk about is, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;ABOUT US&lt;/span&gt;. opening to one another seems to be the hardest thing. i dont know about her, but to me. &lt;b&gt;THIS IS THE HARDEST&lt;/b&gt;. it was really easy for me before with others, it was so easy to tell them the words &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;I LIKE YOU&lt;/span&gt;. but why is it so hard now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i used to say alot of things, expressing things. but now words seem lost in my mouth. how does it feel, wanting to tell a person so much how much you feel, how much you really do care and like the person when its so hard to just form those 3 words. its not like i really want to hide things, wanting the other person to get hurt by me. telling someone you like them is easy, but doing things to show how much they mean to you really is the hardest thing. but for me, i tend to do it the hard way. and yet i fail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've been trying hard to prove every feeling i have. but things, people around tend to make everything a misunderstanding. so what can i do? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"action speaks louder than words"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;but to me, the feeling inside you speaks the loudest, if it was given a chance of course. a chance that has assurance that it wouldnt turn ugly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;there were moments which i felt, we were gonna lose each other. the arguments, the misunderstandings about others and stuffs. all this felt like&lt;/span&gt; i've been trying so hard to be perfect, not to let her down, but instead we were heading to an end. its not about losing any ordinary person, its about losing your &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCCCC;"&gt;BESTFRIEND&lt;/span&gt;, someone who matters. and after our misunds, we just move on, astho the feeling of being hurt, the problems we had were never there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;there was this song on the radio, and all i remembered was the word&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#00CCCC;"&gt;TRYING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;. the beat, the rhythm were stuck in my head, but the lyrics of the song just couldnt form. and so i did what every teenager would, that is, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.and the result? i found this song called&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;THE TRUTH &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;by KRIS ALLEN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the lyrics is exactly what i am feeling. and especially at that moment when i was really down. hope you guys enjoy this song =) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;THE SONG IS IN MY MEDIA PLAYER, JUST CLICK THE 'NEXT' BUTTON &lt;/b&gt;=)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and to that special someone, if you read this, this is exactly how i feel inside. i'm sorry for everything.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;Lying next to you&lt;br /&gt;Wishing I could disappear&lt;br /&gt;Let you fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;And vanish out into thin air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the elephant in the room&lt;br /&gt;And we pretend that we don't see it&lt;br /&gt;It's an avalanche that looms above our heads&lt;br /&gt;And we don't believe it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to be perfect, trying not to let you down&lt;br /&gt;Honesty is honestly the hardest thing for me right now&lt;br /&gt;While the floors underneath our feet are crumbling&lt;br /&gt;The walls we built together tumbling&lt;br /&gt;I still stand here, holding up the roof&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's easier than telling the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still keep your photographs&lt;br /&gt;I remember how we used to laugh&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep on losing sleep&lt;br /&gt;If you're ok with being torn in half&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the elephant in the room&lt;br /&gt;And we pretend that we don't see it&lt;br /&gt;It's an avalanche that looms above our heads&lt;br /&gt;And we don't believe it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to be perfect, trying not to let you down&lt;br /&gt;Honesty is honestly the hardest thing for me right now&lt;br /&gt;While the floors underneath our feet are crumbling&lt;br /&gt;The walls we built together tumbling&lt;br /&gt;I still stand here, holding up the roof&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's easier than telling the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop ignoring that our hearts are mourning&lt;br /&gt;And let the rain come in&lt;br /&gt;Stop pretending that it's not ending&lt;br /&gt;And let the end begin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to be perfect, trying not to let you down&lt;br /&gt;Honesty is honestly the hardest thing for me right now&lt;br /&gt;While the floors underneath our feet are crumbling&lt;br /&gt;The walls we built together tumbling&lt;br /&gt;I still stand here, holding up the roof&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's easier than telling the truth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-9083035738815600759?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/9083035738815600759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/08/truth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/9083035738815600759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/9083035738815600759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/08/truth.html' title='The Truth.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-737504592839198229</id><published>2010-05-08T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T09:22:05.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>can't you just treat me better?</title><content type='html'>i still dont get it. what is going on? why must you be so mean? i text you like almost everytime whenever you seem down, i do care genuinely. and its like you just dont give a damn. did i do something wrong? i just wanna talk to you, is that so bad? seriously i miss the times when we used to talk on the phone for hours rather than those couple of tens of minutes. whenever i text you, sometimes its asthough i'm texting the wall. why must you do this to me? why do i get so affected by this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-737504592839198229?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/737504592839198229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/05/cant-you-just-treat-me-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/737504592839198229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/737504592839198229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/05/cant-you-just-treat-me-better.html' title='can&apos;t you just treat me better?'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-1811527901503301143</id><published>2010-04-02T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T00:29:03.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms. S. Quack. [miss ass crack] LOL.</title><content type='html'>thanks S you've been a great friend too =P&lt;div&gt;well, people may think that you're a liar, two faced, a blabber mouth. but i've judged you myself. and i know and believe/trust you are not that type of person that others see in you. YOU ARE A AWESOME creation of God! so yeah, for a 15+ year old. well, you're more matured than me i can say LOL, you're good at talking [ both craps and facts ]. and i guess you're good at dancing tho, GO JabbawockeeZ. hahaha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're very spiritual tho, thats good about you, sometimes too spiritual, DONT SO EXTRA KAY. =P well, all i can ask from Him is that to keep you just the way you are. and i hope and pray that, that special someone you once had would come back to you some day again. =) so yeah S, Jesus loves you wei =D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-1811527901503301143?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1811527901503301143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/04/ms-s-quack-miss-ass-crack-lol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1811527901503301143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1811527901503301143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/04/ms-s-quack-miss-ass-crack-lol.html' title='Ms. S. Quack. [miss ass crack] LOL.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-3441739130187285061</id><published>2010-02-19T11:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T12:17:16.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing YOU, is like living in a World with no air.</title><content type='html'>i blew it again. each time we get closer. something happens. im sorry i've not been a great best friend. i failed. AS ALWAYS. im seriously scared that one day, i'll lose you. and thats the worse thing that can happen. im learning to let go of my feelings now tho. its hard. but its worth it. better than losing someone you cherish so much and never get to lean on them anymore. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;yes, sometimes i hate how you talk, but thats just you. being you yourself, thats what i like. tho sometimes you dont automatically come to me when im down. i always expect you to be there for me each and everytime. but thats okay, i dont blame you. we're not perfect. just hope that things would get better. i've lost so many people. i cant lose you too. you should really know how much you mean to me despite how i used to remind you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you helped me get through those problems i had, we had each others back. we were like each other's pillars. im so glad that we made it through. it wasnt easy. im sorry for being stupid, the stupid things i said, the stupid things i did. i dont want you to forget me one day, forget me as a STUPID friend. i want you to remember me, remember me always as the SILLIEST friend you ever had. someone who would stay up all night texting you tons of messages. thinking what you're doing. hoping to put a big wide smile on your face on the next day when you read those annoying yet cute messages.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i always wonder why you like to slam my calls whenever i say something annoying and ignore me. makes me hurt. but its just your way of wanting me to know what dumb things i can say on the phone. i just like arguing with you, how much i sayang you and you say i dont. i dont know why. haha. but the things you do, make me feel secured. a real bestfriend i could ever had. and i wanna thank you, for texting me in the hospital, the only one who teman me through the phone. and i wanna thank you for scolding me for whatever i did wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we used to tell each other, how we really thank God, how He put both of us to help one another. but not anymore? im sorry for what happened during camp. i broke my promise. each time i promise you something, i end up breaking it. im sorry for the night during xmas. i admit. i was jealous. thats why i ignored you the whole night. and im sorry for having that small argument on that night. which made us both really sad the next day. im sorry if i made you confused tho. i was just jealous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to tell you the truth, there are many things that i am jealous of. im jealous because i'm scared of losing a special friend like you. i've lost so many friends who i had trust, how can i lose another one like you? and you did the biggest favour for me. i wanna keep reminding you that you mean so much. its like losing something really valuable. i really cherish this friendship, and i cant lose it. because you are my &lt;b&gt;GREATEST&lt;/b&gt; friend. i want you to be there for me on standby 24/7 like how i always am =(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i know that you dont like me talking to others. especially girls. you're scared that i'll forget you one day. like how i did, and yes i still regret what i did few years ago till today. i lied the biggest lie and acted the greatest act. but i wanna assure you that no matter what, you'll still be sitting at the same spot, the &lt;b&gt;GREATEST&lt;/b&gt; friend spot. i'll never forget you i swear. and i promise. this is something i can't break. you'll be thinking "yeah, we'll see". remember what we promised each other? that we'll be there for one another no matter what? i hope we can really hold that promise tho. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i really wanna know what your expectations are towards me, so that i can stop failing you. i wanna know whatever's in your mind. i'm not physic too. please tell me kay? and i promise i'll tell you mine. i'm sorry it seemed so hard for me to put all these in simple words to tell you on the phone. it's hard. but this is just how i profess my sincerity. i hate having arguments with you. i'm really sorry. &lt;i&gt;sorry cant cure anything. &lt;/i&gt;but what can i say? sigh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;camp really made things so hard. we argued more and more after it. im sorry i've always failed being someone special in your eyes. im learning and am still trying my best. but please promise me you'll stop slamming the phone and be more patient with me? =/ and to tell you honestly. i cant sleep whenever we have this cold treatment going on. you should be thankful you're the only one im scared of. maybe because of all the high expectations you have towards me. but im thankful for being a somebody in your eyes, makes me feel appreciated. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;each time you sing, attempt to annoy me with those cute sounds, call me by that weird cute name you gave really makes me smile, altho i dont say it, i mean, you cant expect me to shout "WOI, IM SMILING LA ENOUGH", but behind that annoying crappy phone, im giving you a smile, a smile that proves how you can make me smile with just simple cute things. tell you a secret. you always fail to annoy me. HAHAHAHA. failure =P &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;okay its getting late now. AND YEAH. while im writing this, you're still ignoring me. i'm refreshing my damn facebook in hope you'll say something. so imagine how sad i am right now. and how pitiful this is. =( its no fun seriously. and i only have you right now, and while you're not here at this moment. it just suck. its like sitting in a jail cell with no one just a damn computer and a damn blog to write my feelings out. =/ okay then. i hope we'll be better after you see this. ILY greatest friend =D remember that. i hope that after you read this, not only would you smile =) but be so touched, that you'll sob and gimme a hug. HEH.&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/3243778644118693738-3441739130187285061?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3441739130187285061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/02/losing-you-is-like-living-in-world-with.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3441739130187285061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3441739130187285061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/02/losing-you-is-like-living-in-world-with.html' title='Losing YOU, is like living in a World with no air.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-8505112284077955452</id><published>2010-02-06T11:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T11:10:54.778-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm back!! i hope =/</title><content type='html'>well yeah. guess i'll start blogging soon again. many insecured feelings lately. well, part of life i guess. will be posting some stuff soon. =/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-8505112284077955452?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8505112284077955452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-back-i-hope.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/8505112284077955452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/8505112284077955452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-back-i-hope.html' title='i&apos;m back!! i hope =/'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-2816104964499452316</id><published>2009-10-15T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T07:48:44.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In loving Memory of Andrew Chow Kin Mun &lt;14/03/92 - 14/10/09&gt;</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;IPOH: Seorang remaja yang terbabit dalam pergaduhan di sebuah kedai makan berhampiran kawasan perumahan di Puncak Gerbang Meru Indah, di sini malam tadi, mati di Hospital Raja Permaisuri Bainun hari ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Chow Kin Mun, 17, yang cedera parah di kepala mati pada pukul 11.15 pagi ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ketua Jabatan Siasatan Jenayah Perak, SAC II Mohd Dzuraidi Ibrahim, berkata pergaduhan itu dilapor berlaku pada jam 12.30 tengah malam tadi ketika remaja itu sedang berbual dengan rakannya di kedai makan berhampiran taman perumahan itu. &lt;/p&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;!-- start video--&gt; &lt;!-- end video--&gt; &lt;/center&gt;  &lt;div id="island-do"&gt;     &lt;!-- Zone Tag : Berita Harian Inside Pages - Island Ad --&gt; &lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt; innity_country = "MY"; innity_client = "17"; innity_zone = "761"; innity_channel = ""; innity_keyword = ""; &lt;/script&gt; &lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://cdn.innity.com/synd.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://avn.innity.com/avnsyndV2.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://avn.innity.com/zone/761/72409"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;           &lt;/div&gt;      &lt;p&gt;"Mereka dihampiri sekumpulan lelaki dari arah belakang dan seorang daripada lelaki itu bertindak memukul mangsa dengan menggunakan senjata tajam menyebabkan tercetus pergaduhan," katanya ketika ditemui pada majlis Sambutan Aidilfitri Ibu Pejabat Polis Daerah Ipoh di sini hari ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beliau berkata, Andrew yang mengalami kecederaan serius di kepala dan beberapa bahagian badan dihantar ke Hospital Raja Permaisuri Bainun untuk rawatan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Polis menemui beberapa batang kayu dan parang di tempat kejadian yang dipercayai digunakan untuk memukul mangsa," katanya. &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;!--start pix2--&gt;                         &lt;!--end pix2--&gt;      &lt;p&gt;Mohd Dzuraidi meminta orang ramai yang mempunyai maklumat mengenai kejadian itu supaya menghubungi balai polis berhampiran bagi membantu siasatan. - Bernama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;sourced from Berita Harian Online&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-2816104964499452316?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/2816104964499452316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-loving-memory-of-andrew-chow-kin-mun.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/2816104964499452316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/2816104964499452316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-loving-memory-of-andrew-chow-kin-mun.html' title='In loving Memory of Andrew Chow Kin Mun &lt;14/03/92 - 14/10/09&gt;'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-5121469206148858574</id><published>2009-08-30T02:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T02:09:10.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>207 Peugeot vs. Parkour</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uNBPQe4dFxk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uNBPQe4dFxk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;introduced by vilminn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-5121469206148858574?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/5121469206148858574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/207-peugeot-vs-parkour.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/5121469206148858574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/5121469206148858574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/207-peugeot-vs-parkour.html' title='207 Peugeot vs. Parkour'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-1679451195616375631</id><published>2009-08-29T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T23:32:02.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love.......... Life</title><content type='html'>Hey all. Well since i've been keeping this inside for a very long long long long(cut short) time.. Maybe its about time to express my thoughts and feelings. WELL. Has anyone of you ever fell in &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt; or maybe even thought of ditching your &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;LIFE&lt;/span&gt; cause life is so dull and bore? Love and Life, are actually gifts, gifts which one can never explain. Love is like a drug, before you taste it, you go like "eew!!" and "yuck!" and so forth. but once you taste it, its like heaven!! its a feeling which we can not explain. It makes us secured, happy etc. We feel such "joy" in being loved. And love of course, has its disadvantages. As i mentioned before, love is like a drug. It can some how hurt you, or "kill" you. When things go wrong, and when it becomes what we do not expect, it hurts us, it breaks our hearts. Love is powerful in its way. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;Love is blind, love is like crossing oceans reaching to one another&lt;/span&gt;.  It can bring you happiness, and it can bring you sorrows. And for Life, its like a road/a race track. When we're brought into this world, we're(in a way) standing at the line where we begin, as we grow up, we run the race/walk the road. As we walk through the path of life, things get really rocky and stuffs, we go through ups and we go through downs. Its like an obstacle, sometimes we try to overcome it, but we end up falling. And at times when we fall, we just don't feel like getting back to our feet. Things like this ends up taking control of us, we just don't want to go through obstacles anymore. But in a way, it actually makes us tougher, stronger. Its a way for us to learn how to overcome things that get in our way. Okay, I'm dragging it too long. Now to get to the point. MY Point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.... Have you ever liked someone but just dont know how to express it out, or maybe you're scared that when you tell the person how much you adore him/her, she/he might reject you or might just ignore you. And when you like the person, every step you take, every words you say actually counts because you're scared that even the tiniest mistake might just blow all of your chances away? What can you do? What can you say? And whatever he/she does, sometimes it makes you think that he/she likes you but actually no, they don't. Or perhaps you might just leave everything to fate, just let it be. If you're meant to be then kudos! but if you're not, then you can be sorry to yourself. Its like you're just hiding in your little mask, hiding your feelings, your infatuations away. Sometimes you just go so crazy thinking about that person every minute, every second. Behind that person you're all so hysterical thinking about that person, and infront of that person you're acting as though like you have nothing what-so-ever towards him/her. How can you see in their actions whether they have feelings towards you? Questions, thoughts just keep rushing into our heads. At times we lose control of ourselves, not being what we actually are, just 'faking it' infront of the person we adore. Its hard trying to be 'perfect' to the person we like, but actually, no we dont have to be perfect. We just need to be ourselves. Why fake something which we are not? You dont have to be perfect for anyone, we're only humans. We're not perfect. See, feelings like this, just keep running lose around us. It makes us insane, we just dont know what other actions to take. Why is it so hard to tell a person "hey, you know what. i like you". Its just a simple question, but no. The outcomes of it really do matter. It's like being stuck between life and death. Why why why??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, we even fall for our bestfriend( i mean of the opposite sex DUH). There are tons of movies that are made with such events, and in those movies, it seems like its so easy to tell your bestfriend those 3 words, I Love You. But this is reality, its so God-knows how hard it is to express such feelings. And do all bestfriends end up falling for one another? Is it because of the comfort, the understanding that we find in one another? Sometimes we just feel like knocking our heads to the wall asking ourselves "DAMN! Why must of all the people in the freaking world!! WHY MY BUDDY! WHY WHY!!" Is it called puppy love? Or just some ordinary infatuation. We feel confused. How do we tell that special someone? When is the right time? Will they feel the same way too? Can we just cross our fingers with high hopes that something might happen? Or just sit there to rot and die and nothing happens. To be honest, i dont know what i'm writing, its just feelings that are stuck inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, its getting late now. I gotta go sleep. I hope i didnt bore anyone of you tho. And to my "special someone", i hope that i've proved what i had say, what i had "promise" to you on that day. And i hope that, when the time is right, we'll feel the same way too. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-1679451195616375631?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1679451195616375631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/hey-all.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1679451195616375631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/1679451195616375631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/hey-all.html' title='Love.......... Life'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-2108635961358350094</id><published>2009-08-23T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T00:30:45.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art of Parkour</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj5BjX1LI/AAAAAAAAADI/tHGtp27O_dU/s1600-h/5209_117137641682_598266682_2266228_3999680_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj5BjX1LI/AAAAAAAAADI/tHGtp27O_dU/s320/5209_117137641682_598266682_2266228_3999680_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396767982736562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj4tnPiLI/AAAAAAAAADA/7alBQCSb32c/s1600-h/5209_117137521682_598266682_2266207_4528728_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj4tnPiLI/AAAAAAAAADA/7alBQCSb32c/s320/5209_117137521682_598266682_2266207_4528728_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396762630260914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj4SYPAII/AAAAAAAAAC4/HZ-f0iHvq_E/s1600-h/5209_117137371682_598266682_2266184_7792712_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj4SYPAII/AAAAAAAAAC4/HZ-f0iHvq_E/s320/5209_117137371682_598266682_2266184_7792712_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396755319554178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj4HAba1I/AAAAAAAAACw/7qrbTHVbI2s/s1600-h/5209_117137356682_598266682_2266181_5622451_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj4HAba1I/AAAAAAAAACw/7qrbTHVbI2s/s320/5209_117137356682_598266682_2266181_5622451_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396752266914642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjgw9zEsI/AAAAAAAAACo/U8ZrZJ8f1gk/s1600-h/5209_117137321682_598266682_2266176_4420447_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjgw9zEsI/AAAAAAAAACo/U8ZrZJ8f1gk/s320/5209_117137321682_598266682_2266176_4420447_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396351213310658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjguneujI/AAAAAAAAACg/2jH8Ljn1Hzw/s1600-h/Image%28960%29-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjguneujI/AAAAAAAAACg/2jH8Ljn1Hzw/s320/Image%28960%29-001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396350582831666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjgP1DJ8I/AAAAAAAAACY/o-pTuMnFiYc/s1600-h/Image%28961%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjgP1DJ8I/AAAAAAAAACY/o-pTuMnFiYc/s320/Image%28961%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396342318245826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjfjmT03I/AAAAAAAAACQ/HYvH1oyezaM/s1600-h/Image%28966%29-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjfjmT03I/AAAAAAAAACQ/HYvH1oyezaM/s320/Image%28966%29-001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396330445263730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjffPog8I/AAAAAAAAACI/1cJncljY5MU/s1600-h/Image%28967%29-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIjffPog8I/AAAAAAAAACI/1cJncljY5MU/s320/Image%28967%29-001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373396329276408770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey there PEEPS! Well this week, i've decided to blog about an art called &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt;( pronounced as PAR KOR). My friends were hanging around their neighbourhood when they decided to try this out. Well, since its not really known to many, let me share with everyone of you what this &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; is really about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/b&gt; (sometimes also abbreviated to &lt;b&gt;PK&lt;/b&gt;) or &lt;b&gt;l'art du déplacement&lt;/b&gt; ( &lt;span lang="en"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the art of movement&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in English) is a discipline that appeared first in France. More similar to a martial art than to a sport, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; focused on moving from one point to another as smoothly, efficiently and quickly as possible using the abilities of the human body. It is built on the philosophical premise that any obstacle, physical or mental, can be surpassed.&lt;sup id="cite_ref-1" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-1"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;sup id="cite_ref-the-tree_2-0" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-the-tree-2"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; practitioners are often called &lt;i style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;traceurs&lt;/i&gt;, or &lt;i style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;traceuses&lt;/i&gt; for females.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; is most often practiced outdoors, usually without spectators, and is not considered to be performance. The physical aspect of Parkour consists of getting over all the obstacles in your path as you would in an emergency. You want to move in such a way that helps you gain the most ground on someone or something, whether escaping from it or moving towards it. Thus, when faced with a hostile confrontation with a person, one will be able to speak, fight, or flee. As martial arts are a form of training for the fight, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; is a form of training for the flight.&lt;sup id="cite_ref-pk-flight_4-1" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-pk-flight-4"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt; Because of its unique nature, it is often said that &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; occupies a unique categorization.&lt;/p&gt; A characteristic of &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt; is efficiency. Practitioners move not only as rapidly as they can, but also in the most direct and efficient way possible. This characteristic distinguishes it from the similar practice of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;free running&lt;/span&gt;, which places more emphasis on freedom of movement and creativity. However, it is not certain whether freerunning was initially intended to be similar to &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Parkour&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;sup id="cite_ref-6" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-6"&gt;&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;Efficiency also involves avoiding injuries, both short and long term. This idea embodying &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Parkour's&lt;/span&gt; unofficial motto is &lt;i&gt;être et durer&lt;/i&gt; (to be and to last). Those who are skilled at this activity normally have an extremely keen &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Spatial awareness&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;HISTORY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Before &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_I" title="World War I"&gt;World War I&lt;/a&gt;, former French &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Officer_%28armed_forces%29" title="Officer (armed forces)"&gt;naval officer&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georges_H%C3%A9bert" title="Georges Hébert"&gt;Georges Hébert&lt;/a&gt; traveled throughout the world. During a visit to Africa, he was impressed by the physical development and skills of indigenous tribes that he met:&lt;sup id="cite_ref-HerbertUFF_17-0" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HerbertUFF-17"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;18&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;blockquote class="templatequote"&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;p&gt;Their bodies were splendid, flexible, nimble, skillful, enduring, resistant and yet they had no other tutor in gymnastics but their lives in nature.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="templatequotecite"&gt;—&lt;cite&gt;Georges Hébert, &lt;sup id="cite_ref-HerbertUFF_17-1" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HerbertUFF-17"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;18&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/cite&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;p&gt;On May 8, 1902 the town of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint-Pierre,_Martinique" title="Saint-Pierre, Martinique"&gt;Saint-Pierre, Martinique&lt;/a&gt;, where he was stationed, suffered from the volcanic eruption of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Pel%C3%A9e" title="Mount Pelée"&gt;Mount Pelée&lt;/a&gt;. Hébert coordinated the escape and rescue of some 700 people. This experience had a profound effect on him, and reinforced his belief that athletic skill must be combined with courage and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Altruism" title="Altruism"&gt;altruism&lt;/a&gt;. He eventually developed this ethos into his motto: "&lt;i&gt;être fort pour être utile&lt;/i&gt;" (be strong to be useful).&lt;sup id="cite_ref-HerbertUFF_17-2" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HerbertUFF-17"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;18&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Inspired by indigenous tribes, Hébert became a physical education tutor at the college of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reims" title="Reims" class="mw-redirect"&gt;Reims&lt;/a&gt; in France. He began to define the principles of his own system of physical education and to create various apparati and exercises to teach his &lt;i&gt;méthode naturelle&lt;/i&gt;,&lt;sup id="cite_ref-HerbertUFF_17-3" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HerbertUFF-17"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;18&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt; which he defined as:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;blockquote class="templatequote"&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;p&gt;Methodical, progressive and continuous action, from childhood to adulthood, that has as its objective: assuring integrated physical development; increasing organic resistances; emphasizing aptitudes across all genres of natural exercise and indispensable utilities (walking, running, jumping, quadrupedal movement, climbing, equilibrium (balancing), throwing, lifting, defending and swimming); developing one's energy and all other facets of action or virility such that all assets, both physical and virile, are mastered; one dominant moral idea: altruism.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="templatequotecite"&gt;—&lt;cite&gt;Georges Hébert, &lt;sup id="cite_ref-HebertINSEP_18-0" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HebertINSEP-18"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;19&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/cite&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;p&gt;Hébert set up a &lt;i&gt;méthode naturelle&lt;/i&gt; session consisting of ten fundamental groups: walking, running, jumping, quadrupedal movement, climbing, balancing, throwing, lifting, self-defense, swimming, which are part of three main forces:&lt;sup id="cite_ref-HebertINSEP_18-1" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HebertINSEP-18"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;19&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Energetic or virile sense: energy, willpower, courage, coolness and firmness&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Moral sense: benevolence, assistance, honor and honesty&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Physical sense: muscles and breath&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;p&gt;During World War I and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II" title="World War II"&gt;World War II&lt;/a&gt;, Hébert's teaching continued to expand, becoming the standard system of French &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_education_and_training" title="Military education and training"&gt;military education and training&lt;/a&gt;. Thus, Hébert was one of the proponents of &lt;i&gt;parcours&lt;/i&gt; — an obstacle course, developed by a Swiss architect,&lt;sup id="cite_ref-No_Obstacles_19-0" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-No_Obstacles-19"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;20&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt; which is standard in the military training and led to the development of civilian &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fitness_trail" title="Fitness trail"&gt;fitness trails&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Confidence_course&amp;amp;action=edit&amp;amp;redlink=1" class="new" title="Confidence course (page does not exist)"&gt;confidence courses&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;sup id="cite_ref-HerbertUFF_17-4" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-HerbertUFF-17"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;18&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt; Also, French soldiers and firefighters developed their obstacle courses known as &lt;i&gt;parcours du combattant&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;parcours SP&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;sup id="cite_ref-David_Belle_Bio_20-0" class="reference"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour#cite_note-David_Belle_Bio-20"&gt;&lt;span&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;21&lt;span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;sources taken from Wikipedia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-2108635961358350094?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/2108635961358350094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/art-of-parkour.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/2108635961358350094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/2108635961358350094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/art-of-parkour.html' title='The Art of Parkour'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SpIj5BjX1LI/AAAAAAAAADI/tHGtp27O_dU/s72-c/5209_117137641682_598266682_2266228_3999680_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-6919753983891633827</id><published>2009-08-15T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T08:39:55.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Boys 2005/2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRmTfjnVI/AAAAAAAAACA/KL9Mq4E_gok/s1600-h/04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRmTfjnVI/AAAAAAAAACA/KL9Mq4E_gok/s320/04.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370210061683760466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRl3El6vI/AAAAAAAAAB4/zn4dR5loXnQ/s1600-h/03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRl3El6vI/AAAAAAAAAB4/zn4dR5loXnQ/s320/03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370210054054472434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRlXK6SBI/AAAAAAAAABw/O6zipdn2seM/s1600-h/02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRlXK6SBI/AAAAAAAAABw/O6zipdn2seM/s320/02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370210045491038226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRkw_GadI/AAAAAAAAABo/ZHFVPunPJZw/s1600-h/01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRkw_GadI/AAAAAAAAABo/ZHFVPunPJZw/s320/01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370210035240954322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobP-8nftOI/AAAAAAAAABg/TIwP6rPH2gQ/s1600-h/800x600b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobP-8nftOI/AAAAAAAAABg/TIwP6rPH2gQ/s320/800x600b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370208286016517346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hey there readers! I've been thinking of this movie the other day, was reminiscing about 'those days' as usual, and yeah, for those who remembered about this movie, well then you'll definitely know what i'm writing about, and for those who don't, well, here's the story. Enjoy! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);" class="style39"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE STORY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What happens when a gang of Form Five Ipoh boys embark on a 100km hike to fulfill a King Scouts requirement but come back on the road to becoming men?&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Goodbye Boys is a simple journey with complicated realizations. Set in 1990, Malaysia, it is about a gang of pimply guys with raging hormones, undecided ambitions and formative identities. They set out on a grueling 5-day journey through the Kinta Valley – once the richest tin deposit in the world, now an abandoned plain - that changes friendships and selves.&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It’s a group expedition with individual goals. The harsh realization is that although we’re a troop/patrol, we’re not necessarily a ‘brotherhood’. Friends are important but eventually, it’s not always about togetherness. Memorable camaraderie, yes, but each and everyone needs to grow up, get real. Stand on your own two feet, walk your own walk.&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some will return mini-heroes, content with being welcomed by their dream dates at the 5th Form Farewell Prom organized by the Ipoh Convent girls. Others will realize that the expedition is the beginning of other things in life… the need to escape a small town to realize… one’s dreams…&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When you grow up in any small town, you know that you have to breakaway in order to discover your fullest potential. This is a story that will capture the psyche of a group of young boys on the brink of leaving their comfort zones, in transition… It is a confusing yet exciting time where you wish the possibilities were endless but in reality, you know your escape routes are limited. &lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb","&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;\n\n&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Education is\nyour ticket out. It&amp;rsquo;s a time when your identity, ambition, sexuality is\nevolving. It is about looking back at a crucial formative period, much of which\nis reflected within a micro-journey of an expedition. Youth is a time when\neverything seems exaggerated. A slow dance with your girl means everything.\nPeople&amp;rsquo;s actions and deeds affect you in a big way. Negative emotions in\nparticular seem amplified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;\n\n&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;What you were\nthen, what you have become. What you continue to be&amp;hellip; Yet we constantly\nlook back. The personal journey of a few that can be understood universally. It\nis a timeless journey that affirms growing up as being a beautiful tragicomedy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;\n\n&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;\n\n&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;THE DIRECTOR&amp;rsquo;S NOTE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;\n\n&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Crucial formative years spent in a Mission\nSchool run by La\n Salle Brothers. . . Yet I&amp;rsquo;ve come to realize that identity\nis my route, not my roots.  Growing up in small town Ipoh,\neducated in Malaysia, America and the UK, I feel now is the right time to\ntell &amp;lsquo;Goodbye Boys&amp;rsquo;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;\n\n&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Although this will be my second feature film\nafter Gol &amp;amp; Gincu, it&amp;rsquo;s my first screenplay.  Goodbye Boys is an\nexpedition film, 8 boys on journeys of forming identities, part of larger\nroutes in life. &amp;ldquo;",1] );  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;             &lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Education is your ticket out. It’s a time when your identity, ambition, sexuality is evolving. It is about looking back at a crucial formative period, much of which is reflected within a micro-journey of an expedition. Youth is a time when everything seems exaggerated. A slow dance with your girl means everything. People’s actions and deeds affect you in a big way. Negative emotions in particular seem amplified.&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="style38" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What you were then, what you have become. What you continue to be… Yet we constantly look back. The personal journey of a few that can be understood universally. It is a timeless journey that affirms growing up as being a beautiful tragicomedy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Director's Cut: They actually cut the MOST important part, especially for our very own 02kinta's history. They filmed a small part of a few scouters of 02kinta from the form1 batch of 2005. And the scouters who played the 'younger' versions of the characters of the movie were - Tan Loo Sen as 'Ivan', Loh Guo Jiet as 'Jin', Leroy Choong as 'Leonard' and Lee Wei Phun as 'Wei Heen'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats all for today guys. *Get well soon NJY if you see this =)*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-6919753983891633827?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6919753983891633827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/goodbye-boys-20052006.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/6919753983891633827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/6919753983891633827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/goodbye-boys-20052006.html' title='Goodbye Boys 2005/2006'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/SobRmTfjnVI/AAAAAAAAACA/KL9Mq4E_gok/s72-c/04.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-4600478396206049893</id><published>2009-08-08T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:29:26.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bamboozle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5auWs9XsI/AAAAAAAAABQ/3IqXodSYby4/s1600-h/the+bamboozle3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5auWs9XsI/AAAAAAAAABQ/3IqXodSYby4/s320/the+bamboozle3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367827558286843586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;The Organisers&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Niroshaa&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt; Sonia&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Weng Hsi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5aj5ZT64I/AAAAAAAAABI/4CrAngmK61A/s1600-h/the+bamboozle2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5aj5ZT64I/AAAAAAAAABI/4CrAngmK61A/s320/the+bamboozle2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367827378621115266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5aIMTv_7I/AAAAAAAAABA/h5R_7ySZUBE/s1600-h/the+bamboozle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5aIMTv_7I/AAAAAAAAABA/h5R_7ySZUBE/s320/the+bamboozle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367826902661726130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;The Bamboozle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey guys! There's a costume party coming up end of this year. It's organised by this 3 really &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;AWESOME&lt;/span&gt; people from SMC. It's aimed especially for "young men and women" who are of 17 years of age. And may i remind you thats it's a &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;COSTUME&lt;/span&gt; party!! so you can dress up in whatever way, whoever you wish to be. For those who wish to know more about it, i'll be writing down the details below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table id="Time and Place" class="profileTable info_table" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="label"&gt;Date:&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" class="data"&gt;&lt;div class="datawrap"&gt;Friday, December 18, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="label"&gt;Time:&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" class="data"&gt;&lt;div class="datawrap"&gt;7:30pm - 10:30pm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="label"&gt;Location:&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" class="data"&gt;&lt;div class="datawrap"&gt;Grand Ballroom, Heritage Hotel, Ipoh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="label"&gt;City/Town:&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" class="data"&gt;&lt;div class="datawrap"&gt;Ipoh, Malaysia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admission :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;~ RM38 per person and RM70 for a couple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;    (starts on 21th July - 1st September)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;~ RM43 per person and RM80 for a couple. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;    (starts on 2nd September - 1st November)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;~ RM50 for all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;     (starts on 2nd November - 15th December)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Organisers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;Sonia Lim&lt;/span&gt; (016-5037606)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Weng Hsi&lt;/span&gt; (016-5235616)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Niroshaa&lt;/span&gt; (016-5956465)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Facebook page : &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=102927061895"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=102927061895&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-4600478396206049893?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4600478396206049893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/bamboozle.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/4600478396206049893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/4600478396206049893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/bamboozle.html' title='The Bamboozle'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn5auWs9XsI/AAAAAAAAABQ/3IqXodSYby4/s72-c/the+bamboozle3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-3437680961261494834</id><published>2009-08-08T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T11:02:21.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random stuffs that happened.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn234w7BDeI/AAAAAAAAAA4/WTmMie1gNms/s1600-h/Image%28866%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn234w7BDeI/AAAAAAAAAA4/WTmMie1gNms/s320/Image%28866%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367648516728491490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last thursday, my mum picked me up from the library after school and guess what? i caught her wearing my Man-Utd Shirt!! soooooooooooooooooooo awkward man. It was WAYYYYY bigger than what she usually wears tho. AND BESIDES!! SHE HATES MAN-UTD!! so random right!! well thats all for today tho. its getting late. tata~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;PS: i know its lame to post something like this. swt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-3437680961261494834?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3437680961261494834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-stuffs-that-happened.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3437680961261494834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/3437680961261494834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-stuffs-that-happened.html' title='Random stuffs that happened.'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/Sn234w7BDeI/AAAAAAAAAA4/WTmMie1gNms/s72-c/Image%28866%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3243778644118693738.post-629608612716808722</id><published>2009-08-08T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T10:15:04.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gosh, a blog finally!!</title><content type='html'>Well, things always start first with a beginning. Will be updating this blog on a weekly basis. tata~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3243778644118693738-629608612716808722?l=lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/feeds/629608612716808722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/gosh-blog-finally.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/629608612716808722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3243778644118693738/posts/default/629608612716808722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifesneverendingtales.blogspot.com/2009/08/gosh-blog-finally.html' title='Gosh, a blog finally!!'/><author><name>constantine †</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10322121057882673020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A3v9JfxvGMc/S1xxxQshiyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Xq_woHRjfSU/S220/P1010148.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
