<?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-6600206152023911731</id><updated>2012-01-20T03:22:11.708+08:00</updated><category term='Random'/><category term='Unknown'/><category term='Thoughts'/><category term='Emo'/><category term='No Names'/><category term='Stoned'/><category term='General'/><category term='Songwords'/><category term='Clueless'/><category term='Tags'/><category term='Highlights'/><title type='text'>The Way You Make Me Feel</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>440</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5896587238014797420</id><published>2008-11-13T22:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T22:13:01.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Kenz-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay people. I'm switching to a new blog. The new address is &lt;a href="http://kenzyxvw.blogdrive.com/"&gt;http://kenzyxvw.blogdrive.com/&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;This blog shall rest in peace as of today. Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5896587238014797420?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5896587238014797420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5896587238014797420&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5896587238014797420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5896587238014797420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/11/kenz-okay-people.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8321670581272600130</id><published>2008-10-09T23:22:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T00:33:05.145+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Kenz-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always wanted to do this post since way way back then, when I thought I knew &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;its&lt;/span&gt; meaning. But I guess there's still a lot to learn, but yeah, I'll share a thought or two on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;, as what I have come to know and observe in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so if you have about 15-20 minutes to kill then you can go on reading, if not I suggest scrolling your mouse to the top right hand corner and click that red 'X' button there. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, how do you define &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;? An act of compassion? A passionate feeling you have for someone? Or that little tingly feeling you have inside you when you see that certain someone? Or the feeling of getting somebody to like you or liking somebody? Or maybe that force of attraction you have towards that someone because of him/her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe it's up to everyone as to how they would want to interpret love. But yeah, my interpretation is that love is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, only the girlfriend gets to read that, heh. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I think that every relationship has its own recipe to everlasting love. Yeah, its unique and special, that's why every relationship is different I guess. Sometimes you don't get it perfect, but that's where you learn from it. Sometimes you do get it right, and that's when you won't let go and you'll live on that way happily for the rest of your life. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that people are generally afraid of relationships. For love and during love, that's when you see the true colours of each person. It is that very fact that shows that person's true personality, who he/she really is. Yeah, it's funny, but it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no limit as to where would one go for love and relationships. Everyone fears rejection, or to put it in other words, the fear of facing the fact of an unrequited (not repaid) love. Yeah, it's like the total opposite of unconditional love. Everyone doesn't like the fact of unrequited love, it's like trying to clap with one hand. No fun in that, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, that's when you get to see people that live their lives without getting their hopes high, or like deceiving themselves that they don't expect anything out of love. You know, the same old phrase that "No hopes, no expectations, means no disappointment and no pain". Yeah, that same excuse time and time again. These are the people that fear love, hence they usually don't get repaid with it. Even if they do, they don't usually end up sustaining it. Why? Because fearing love is something that is wrong, something which isn't supposed to exist within oneself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean if you fear love so much, why even fall in love in the first place right? Dare to love, embrace love for what it is. If you suffer a fall from it, get back up. Because the reason why we fall is to learn how to pick ourselves up. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those which want love but totally do not want love. Sounds confusing? Yeah, these are the ones that take time to understand, but all in all, they're pretty easy to figure out. They'll live life alone not wanting to know whether the grass is greener on the other side as they perceive that it is not. Hence, they'll only take a look at it if they're given some insurance or something like that. They dare not take the step forward to embrace love neither do they take a step back to deny love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, they may have fallen in love once or twice but then they'll go on not wanting to accept love unless they are sure it will not wind up being like the previous time(s). Yeah, they wouldn't want to start off at square one again I'm pretty sure, but who would want to? But then again, we make mistakes in life and that's where we move on I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll move on to those who doesn't really want love but needs love. You know, the ones who don't really care for what love is all about but instead just needs to know what it feels like, what it tastes like to be in love. Or so they think they are "in love". But heck, it's everyone's own interpretation to what love is I guess. Yeah, so they'll be kind of needy and not hesitant at all as to find out what love is all about but only if they find people they're interested in, and not vice versa where they're not interested in that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, then there are the ones that just want love as to fit in or to show that they too can fall in love. This is what I call naive and well, a little mix of stupidity and blindness. Yeah, that's how I define it, sue me if you want. Anyways, they'll be like very in need of somebody to love them and they'll practically just fall for anyone they'd know who gets a little too close for comfort kind of situation with them. They'd sometimes misunderstand acts of kindness and compassion as that someone being interested in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so they'd just fall for people who would fall for them and not really get the whole idea of affection I guess. But what the heck. They try to be in love, but when the idea of actually being in love for the long run, I really don't know what's gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the really patient ones. Those who believe in love, has their hopes high, has faith in the perfect/dream girl/guy etc. Yeah, they stay faithful to love, in hope that one day their soul searching would come to an end. These are those that I guess understand the meaning of passionate affection and believe love is something real and genuine. Nothing much to add here, as I guess they do know that eventually someone will come by knocking on their door to deliver him/herself to them. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are those that don't really know what love is, but know what love is. You know, the time where you were still living your own life without any worries and any care for anyone else and then suddenly you bump into someone and then it all begins. Haha. Yeah, these are those that want love but only I guess if it shows up at the right place at the right time. But then again, that's how everyone falls in love I guess, by chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, there's still about two to three more (of course I wouldn't write which am I in this post, hahaha, not that dumb okay!) that I know of but I'd stop here as this has gone long enough. I assume this applies for both guys and girls (a bit vague on the girl part though). But hey, assume-ing is never good. Yes, assume-ing not assuming. Why? Because making an assumption = Making an ASS out of U and ME. (ASS-U-ME = ASSUME!) Haha. That teaching is from Mrs. Ng by the way. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So go on now, go figure out love. Be daring to love, embrace love, feel love, and love love. Heh. Remember, never hate the person, hate love. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8321670581272600130?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8321670581272600130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8321670581272600130&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8321670581272600130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8321670581272600130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/10/kenz-ive-always-wanted-to-do-this-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5952250275864671774</id><published>2008-10-02T12:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T12:51:46.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Kenz-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to exercise! Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been way too long since I last played futsal. Not good okay. At least kicking footie around the house isn't too bad, but yeah I need to play futsal people! My goal tally of 147 or is it 138 goals in 21 games needs to carry on! Grr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I wonder if those people from the Monash soccer team or whatever are still playing. At least they managed to put in a bit of fight. The others, well let's just say that I'm too &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;young&lt;/span&gt; for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone up for futsal? =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5952250275864671774?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5952250275864671774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5952250275864671774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5952250275864671774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5952250275864671774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/10/kenz-i-need-to-exercise-sniffles.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1000631295628124675</id><published>2008-10-01T21:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T22:06:33.754+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Kenz-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry people, didn't really had a post in September. Anyways, I guess reviving the blog every once in a while isn't a tad bit too bad. So yeah, just a few short updates I guess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby is currently in Sydney, and there's still another four days before she comes back. I'm missing her like hell now but at least I've managed to discover the art of cartoon-making. Yes. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on holiday now and my finals are in a couple of weeks. This is not good. Holiday = forgetting everything that I've learnt in the whole year. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've definitely flopped my entire trials, which is not good once the parents finds out. Uggh. Hmm, on a side note, at least the girlfriend did pretty good I think. So yeah, at least my hardwork in making her study did pay off after all. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birthday weekend is coming up, cartoon-making is beginning to take shape, busy busy busy. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess some people have troubles of letting go of the past, some still live in it. They just don't know how to move on, how to let go. No matter, they'll know soon enough that life is about what is now, not the future, not the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, just because they didn't really have things go for them in the past, they think they'd make their lives better by making a fool out of themselves to critique the path that they could never have had. You know, like the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Yeah la, luckily I didn't go with that bla bla bla"&lt;/span&gt; kind of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, just because you didn't have a chance at it doesn't mean that life on the other side isn't greener than your side. It means that you just couldn't deal with the fact that you've never gotten a chance to look at life on both sides. Such losers and imbeciles, har har.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so take a look in the mirror and ask yourself, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Who am I today?"&lt;/span&gt;. You won't know what comes tomorrow, coz' even if you've planned everything right, all it takes is one thing to screw up the system and chaos is upon you. Watch &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Dark Knight&lt;/span&gt; and listen to what Joker says to Harvey Dent in the hospital, totally makes sense okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, short update just went a little too far. Haha. Oh well. Till the next time, toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1000631295628124675?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1000631295628124675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1000631295628124675&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1000631295628124675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1000631295628124675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/10/kenz-sorry-people-didnt-really-had-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7245023612158969943</id><published>2008-08-26T00:07:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T00:13:54.786+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SLLY3NnseSI/AAAAAAAAA_8/mD1oh2IjQxY/s1600-h/DSC09430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SLLY3NnseSI/AAAAAAAAA_8/mD1oh2IjQxY/s320/DSC09430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238487759645866274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If there is someone who could make me smile more, it would be you. If there is someone who could make me happier, it would be you. If there is someone who could make me forget about all my worries, it would be you. If there is someone who could catch me when I fall, it would be you. And if there's someone that I can only love, it would be you." - Pigil²&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7245023612158969943?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7245023612158969943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7245023612158969943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7245023612158969943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7245023612158969943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/ken.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SLLY3NnseSI/AAAAAAAAA_8/mD1oh2IjQxY/s72-c/DSC09430.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1767849945058871574</id><published>2008-08-21T23:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T23:53:52.041+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Baby and I went Fish Spa today at Kenko, Pavilion :D Hehe. The fishes really got much fatter and BIGGER since the last time I went. Damn scary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We were screaming and biting our towels cause it was so geli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and kinda painful too! Haha, we had to force each other's legs into the water cause we kept freaking out :p So jakun, I know :D Hehe. And the boyfriend is lucky to have me sitting next to him, cause all the big big fishes came to m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;instead of him :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want to go again! :D Though I doubt baby will teman me again :p His reaction was really funny. So cutee &lt;3 He thought he was going to die okay. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, since this blog is like dying, I shall post up some pictures of our interesting fish spa experience :p Goes to show how lazy the owner of this blog is, hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Iy2TEvvI/AAAAAAAAA_0/wnFemFUwlU0/s1600-h/DSC01003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Iy2TEvvI/AAAAAAAAA_0/wnFemFUwlU0/s320/DSC01003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236992348852109042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2IxbvlR_I/AAAAAAAAA_U/UxIzDV4I1no/s1600-h/DSC01004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2IxbvlR_I/AAAAAAAAA_U/UxIzDV4I1no/s320/DSC01004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236992324544055282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Look at the difference!! Ahhhh, imagine having SO many fishes biting you :( &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Ix-w4fDI/AAAAAAAAA_c/qQeQul512dI/s1600-h/DSC01005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Ix-w4fDI/AAAAAAAAA_c/qQeQul512dI/s320/DSC01005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236992333944749106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2IyEDNuGI/AAAAAAAAA_k/vUxCfslfN50/s1600-h/DSC01006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2IyEDNuGI/AAAAAAAAA_k/vUxCfslfN50/s320/DSC01006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236992335363815522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Iyln1M9I/AAAAAAAAA_s/z3NiN_CjDzs/s1600-h/DSC01008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Iyln1M9I/AAAAAAAAA_s/z3NiN_CjDzs/s320/DSC01008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236992344375768018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Look at the piggg! Lol. As if someone was going to kill him like that okay :p Ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and we attempted horror movie today :D &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Strangers.&lt;/span&gt; I think I only watched three quarters of the movie. The other quarter I was hiding behind baby's hands :D Haha, SCARY okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should stop blogging here too and let the blog decompose together with Sesame. Haha :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles :)&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/6600206152023911731-1767849945058871574?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1767849945058871574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1767849945058871574&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1767849945058871574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1767849945058871574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/baby-and-i-went-fish-spa-today-at-kenko.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SK2Iy2TEvvI/AAAAAAAAA_0/wnFemFUwlU0/s72-c/DSC01003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1161534948389394310</id><published>2008-08-18T00:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T00:38:34.228+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It definitely feels like I own this blog now since the boyfriend decided to abandon this faithful emo blog of his. So sesamisedly evil =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Baby lost his mp3 in college on Thursday :( :( Argh, I think it must have been some M who took it, must be. Taylors should ban them la, seriously =S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we went Mid Valley yesterday rather early in the morning. Haha, I had to wake the pig up at 8 something and as usual I had to force him to wake up despite him manja-ing with his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"A while more"&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"5 more minutes?"&lt;/span&gt; and&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "3 minutes more, please?"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;33&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched him played CS for some WCG thingy sponsored by Nuffnang, I think? :D Sorry la, I'm not exactly very cyber-gamed yet okay, although my boyfriend is a CS and Dota pro. So as usual, I was fascinated (very jakunly) by their speed and accuracy in the game. I'm a slow person okay, don't blame me. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then then then, yay! I conned him into buying some stuff :D For himself la, not me. Hehe. I'm so happy :) Had lunch at Madam Kwan's, and he paid for lunch AGAIN. Sobs :( Then we wanted to watch movie, but the queue in Mid Valley was so damn long and packed with his favourite race, the M's :D So we decided to head to Signature GSC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to his place before the movie since we had three hours. Visited the Evil Sesame, watched Olympics, and got freaked out by his naughty dog, Benji :D Haha. Signature GSC is really comfy by the way :D And The Mummy was kinda scary, too many chopping off heads scenes. Twinkles was so naughty okay, he kept covering my eyes. Hehe. Okay la, more like I didn't wanna watch the gross scenes :D :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.8.08&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe, so the boyfriend and I didn't choose a wrong day to be together &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice number okay :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skittles is now four months old! :) Twinkles is three, and baby Starry is still two months old :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy four months darling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Much love &lt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1161534948389394310?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1161534948389394310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1161534948389394310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1161534948389394310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1161534948389394310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-definitely-feels-like-i-own-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2288061391425123262</id><published>2008-08-15T21:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T21:43:42.598+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the blog is dying. Heh. The visitor count has decreased well, almost to single digits. Yays. No more updates for the month from me. Toodles people. ;D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2288061391425123262?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2288061391425123262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2288061391425123262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2288061391425123262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2288061391425123262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/ken-yes-blog-is-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8519804664100033461</id><published>2008-08-09T23:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T23:26:55.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It feels like I own this blog now. Cause the owner of this blog is a real Pig-Il-² who can't seem to stay awake every night after dinner. Haha, so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried conning me today, okay fine, he did con me for like 2 minutes into thinking he was kidnapped/mugged by a M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened was.. when he told me he was going to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;walk&lt;/span&gt;, walk okay, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;walk&lt;/span&gt;! to Leisure Mall, I kinda freaked out. Haha, yes la, I know it's right opposite his house, but there are a lot of weird people loafing around there somehow. And plus! A lot of that race there okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I messaged him to check if he was still alive, haha, as in literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he replied, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ko ni sape?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was.. stoned? Haha. Worried, of course, but really stoned. So many possibilities ran through my mind, the possibility that he really got kidnapped cause he really has the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I am rich, come rob me"&lt;/span&gt; face okay. But I thought of the possibility that he was conning me as well la, as usual :p See, I ain't that blur okay :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, my lazy Pigil² boyfriend finds &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;joy&lt;/span&gt; in making me worried by acting as a M! Hmphhhh, I so don't like you :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know I love you &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8519804664100033461?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8519804664100033461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8519804664100033461&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8519804664100033461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8519804664100033461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-feels-like-i-own-this-blog-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8386399561819920634</id><published>2008-08-05T21:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T22:16:24.317+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am here to &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;un-emofy&lt;/span&gt; this blog, yeah, you all know how emo this blog is right? ;p Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as well as to keep this blog alive! :D Haha, yes yes, you people reading this should thank me for updating this lazy bum's blog for you all who read his blog to cure your boredom :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We created a blog for Twinkles, Skittles, Starry, Sesame and Street! :) :) Haha, we're pretty good at giving names now, from Silly Tilly to Street to Skittles, Twinkles and Starry :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sesamised girlfriend&lt;/span&gt; :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the boyfriend is bullying me at this exact moment, hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not funny okay!!!! :( Poke you ahhhh. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay okay, buhbyes! :) Yeah la, I know this post damn random.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Heh, expect more random posts from me! :D I am supposed to keep this dying blog alive anyway, :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8386399561819920634?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8386399561819920634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8386399561819920634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8386399561819920634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8386399561819920634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-am-here-to-un-emofy-this-blog-yeah.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6594316483628149472</id><published>2008-08-05T21:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T21:08:38.376+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm pretty much quite a selfish and self-centered person at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty oblivious to the people around me, with a few exceptions of course like the girlfriend, Twinkles, Skittles, Starry and Sesame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I kind of know what people are going through and what's happening, that's how far I'd go in terms of relating myself with people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I pretty much am the person that everyone would think "Oh it's Justin, there's like already so many people in his life to talk to, why bother". I think I get that quite a lot, heh. Not that I'm complaining, I'm pretty much more than happy that most if not everyone I know thinks that way by now. No sarcasm intended here by the way, I'm dead serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, call me self-centered, I don't mind. Because I don't really give a damn on what people think about me. To me, and most importantly to the people I care about as mentioned above, and to include my family of course, I am me, myself and I. Nobody else. Just the same old Justin Low Ken Leong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you, or anyone else have whatever reason to doubt that I am a failure in life, then please by all means go ahead and think that way. I love proving people wrong anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, being self-centered isn't too bad a thing sometimes. You don't have people pestering you, neither do you have so much things to worry about. Because yeah, at the end of the day, everyone else only means that much to you. Call me insensitive, and I'll call you an angel. Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6594316483628149472?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6594316483628149472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6594316483628149472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6594316483628149472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6594316483628149472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/ken-i-guess-im-pretty-much-quite.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7045609962363105367</id><published>2008-08-04T22:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T23:29:29.512+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the girl that makes my every day that tad bit sweeter than it was yesterday. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that puts a smile on my face with each glance I lay on her, including the silly ones. Hehe. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that keeps me warm when I'm cold by sandbag-ing me. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that keeps me close when I need someone to hold me, and squish me. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that claims that she eats a lot by flattening her rice and then eating less than half of it. I have to finish the rest of course. Piggle. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that makes sure that I'm done with my work and then heads to bed as well as saves me when my printer goes haywire. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that stays awake every night to make sure that I'm asleep. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that manja me back when I manja her. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that constantly pokes me whenever I play with my hair and calling that black thing brain juice. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that wakes me up to make sure I study on the eve of every test. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that makes sure I'm never late for the things I do if it means waking up early in the morning. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that makes me decide on things (and discriminate my decisions!) and claims that she has mastered the skill of deciding, hence I am on probation and have to decide. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that makes me copy things in class by asking me to copy for her, in which she will copy for me (so con okay, haha). &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that does the silliest of things sometimes like throwing paper down from three floors high and screaming "Black cat!" when we were like in the middle of nowhere at night. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that cannot multitask when doing many things like talking on the phone and walking down the stairs. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that makes sure I drink water everyday, hmm more like the other way round, but yeah. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that always tells me "Nothing la" when it's never nothing. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that thinks that my driving is dangerous and could be the cause of my death. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that experiences the weirdest and silliest of dreams every now and then. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that always has rubbish on her mind in thinking that one day &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; will happen. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that thinks that me being like Po is not a bad thing. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that says "We must budget" and the next day we're at Haagen Dazs. Heh. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that claims that I am more stubborn than she is, which I of course am not. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that thinks Sesame is retarded and on the verge of decomposing. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that calls Twinkles a smelly pigbear and Skittles is her baby, and Starry is her darling *jealous okay!*. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that bans me from Coke because it is bad, as well as coming up with the word "Coke feeling" which is reflux of the stomach, as well as many other "feelingS". &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that thinks that me paying for most of things is a bad thing, which of course it isn't. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I can go on and on till I don't know when about this. Like how she claims I don't hug her when I do every day, and how she would ease the pain on my shoulders when the nerves on my shoulders are all jumbled up, and how she would go on and ask me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; question some eleven times a day, etc etc. Heh. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I love you. &lt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7045609962363105367?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7045609962363105367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7045609962363105367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7045609962363105367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7045609962363105367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/ken-to-girl-that-makes-my-every-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1852892150086125585</id><published>2008-08-04T00:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T00:40:11.403+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind's constantly filled with thoughts no matter what I do. Oh well, it can't really be that bad a thing, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Leona Lewis is one hell of a performer on stage. She makes songs sound so like how they record them in the studios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be okay for Maths tomorrow, hopefully. I feel very awake, though the clock says it is 12:34 am now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, August is always that time of the year. Yeah, you know, that time. Actually, I don't even know what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've managed to convince my mum that I ain't doing too bad for my course, I mean almost perfect ESL assignments, decent Physics and Maths assignments, and pretty good Chemistry practicals, I guess that can't be a bad thing. Put aside all my horrible common test results of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean wth la, common test. So damn rubbish. If wanna test, test the whole damn thing la, test like that can die okay. It's like in high school where they have all the small tests, where I'd usually flop them all coz' they don't really emphasize on how the final exam is really done. So yeah, knowing me, I don't really care about the battle, only the war. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been updating too frequently. My blog visitors are not going down as quickly as I thought it would. So, this shall be the last post in a long long time. Heh. Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1852892150086125585?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1852892150086125585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1852892150086125585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1852892150086125585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1852892150086125585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/08/ken-my-minds-constantly-filled-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1481674606737232810</id><published>2008-07-31T19:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T19:18:59.083+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be rather rude if I didn't end the month without a post, and since it's been quite some time since I visited my own blog, I guess I should leave something here anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, the girlfriend and I went to Pyramid today in hope for Baskin Robins, but then, we were craving for some enriched chocolate for Haagen Dazs. So...As we walked to BR, we saw the queue to be rather long, so we decided to go to Haagen Dazs instead. Oh well, I hate waiting okay, so yeah, pretty much explains why we didn't get in line to buy some back when we visited BR again after Haagen Dazs-ing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Haagen Dazs-ing. It's a word now. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got my ESL assessment to do. This is bad. We have 3days to do it, but I pretty much stoned in class for two days, and I guess I'm the only one with a blank sheet of paper. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shall see, hopefully I'll be able to get it done in 45minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little lazy to layan my chatterbox, so yeah, sorry people. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1481674606737232810?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1481674606737232810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1481674606737232810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1481674606737232810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1481674606737232810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-it-would-be-rather-rude-if-i-didnt.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3173561214939270759</id><published>2008-07-22T22:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T22:19:44.875+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to have very unstable emotions these days. Seems like sleeping manages to help me chuck them aside for the moment, until when I wake up where everything comes back and starts to mess with my thoughts again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind always has the weirdest of thoughts whenever I shouldn't need it to think. But I guess I've grown to gotten used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blog shall be on random hiatus as of now. I need to sleep. Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3173561214939270759?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3173561214939270759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3173561214939270759&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3173561214939270759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3173561214939270759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-i-seem-to-have-very-unstable.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3575599422582247298</id><published>2008-07-20T15:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T15:24:39.553+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always had &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; feeling. But it seems now, more than ever. I hate &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; feeling. But yeah, it's not within me to control &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I've done wrong, neither do I know what is wrong, or what is going on. It's like all of a sudden there's this fog that has come and blurred everything. Worst part is, I don't even know what will happen once the fog is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That&lt;/span&gt; feeling is here again. I need to seek my soft toys for comfort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3575599422582247298?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3575599422582247298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3575599422582247298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3575599422582247298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3575599422582247298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-ive-always-had-that-feeling.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1550383690617631792</id><published>2008-07-19T22:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T22:44:27.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always got the feeling that there are a lot of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Don't tell Justin"&lt;/span&gt; things going on. I don't know why. As well as the fact that there are a lot of things that's happening which I do not know of until yeah, it hits me, and hits me hard. Oh well. One of the reasons why we fall is to learn to pick ourselves up anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went for ICCG DotA today. Got ousted out in the last sixteen. Wasn't too bad, first game was pretty much a pub stomp. Second needless to say we were outplayed due to the lack of wards. Gratz to DNA (despite their imba combo of w4si, mKvL and DNA-SK, haxxors pfft, and for stealing our game one strategy!) at the end for winning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent almost 12hours outside of home. I'm exhausted. I need rest. Hopefully without much thought on the things of which I shouldn't know of but I think I know, but might not be, but possibly and probably might be, or could not be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1550383690617631792?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1550383690617631792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1550383690617631792&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1550383690617631792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1550383690617631792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-ive-always-got-feeling-that-there.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-110383286064512054</id><published>2008-07-15T18:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T20:32:21.987+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pathway was nothing but a small hollow passage linking the rooms on the second floor. Dimmed it was, nothing but a flickering faulty light bulb was what helped give light to the dark, stretchy, and silent corridor. The cracks on the floor allowed screeching noises to enter the ears of those who stroll along its path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily returned back to her home a couple of hours earlier than she usually does. It was the 27th, it was a special day, it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; day. So, she left her bag and coat in her green, messy old car and quickly rushed into the house in hope to catch her husband off guard. She was thrilled, she was exhilarated, she was in love, again. She stumbled onto a small crack along the pavements, but much to her luck, she landed onto a foliage of leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She opened the front door surreptitiously, and silent monotonous footsteps followed. She was holding a box of cake on one hand, and a bundle of flowers on the other. She maneuvered her way through the kitchen and handled the utensils gingerly whilst slicing the cake into fourteen separate pieces, in which each represents every year of her unconditional love towards him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun was beginning to set, and the darkness of the night was already starting to engulf what was the bright vivid evening blue sky. Emily was endowed with tender hands, and knowing that, she worked her way with the cake without much of a hassle. She then proceeded up the stairs, onto the corridor. As she strolled along the corridor with her nimble feet, she can't help but worry that her husband might hear the sharp screeching sounds of the floor cracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None the less, Emily neglected them and could not care less. She was captivated with the love and the bond they have shared all these years, and nothing has ever hindered her from showing her undying love for her husband, despite the bashful character that she often portrays. Although she took feeble and small steps, she couldn't help but worry about the rowdy sounds that the floor cracks were making. Every step, seemed like a step to run away from all the troubles and worries she had, every step, to her, was a step closer, to celestial heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she reached the end of the hallway, she unlocked the door with thought that her husband should be taking a nap as he did not notice the cracking sounds outside of the room. She was about to burst in, full of passion and enthusiasm. However, her joy and her happiness was abruptly put to a standstill. At first sight, she could not comprehend the situation in which she saw her husband in. She could not, in her right mind, figure out what she has fallen into, neither could she have foreseen this erroneous act of indiscretion from the man she loved with all her heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, she remained nonchalant. She stood firm glancing at a sight which did not appease her one very bit. Thoughts about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; day, vanquished into thin air in a matter of seconds. Her man was in a state of disbelief, and he had nothing left to say to explain his predicament with another woman under the sheets of the bed. He could not conceal whatever that needs to be hidden, he could not explain what needs to be told. He was pretty much dead the moment he laid his eyes on his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The darkness of the night has took its place among the sky and all there is to look up at, the moon and the stars has begun to shine incandescently, but only looking like tiny dots as seen from where everyone had their feet on. Emily dropped the cake on the floor, the bundle of flowers she then just threw at the wooden brown wall behind her, and she slammed the door and left the scene immediately. She could not believe the sight that she had just beheld. Her mind was filled with intricacy far beyond what anyone could ever jumble up their thoughts with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ran, and ran, and ran as far as she could from the house. Her feelings were feeble, but her pace was indubitably robust as she burst through the park without much care for the people around her. She found a soft spot among the grasses, and laid there, consolidating herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fourteen, fourteen damned years", were the only words Emily could have mustered with tears rolling down her cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She laid there, sobbing, in need of comfort, in need of care and affection, but most of all, in need of love. She could not believe all this while, she was living a lie, a mere hoax with a man that not only did not contribute in maintaining the financial difficulties that they had, but also a man who was seeing someone else behind her back while she was at work. Emily did not need an explanation from him, despite his constant calls while she was at the park. She didn't need one, and she never would, because her feelings were as good as crushed. And her heart, was as good as tarnished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of hours at the park, Emily still could not relish the fact of what has just happened. She took a short walk around the park after deciding that she would not return home anymore. She needed to get some air, and needed to clear her mind of the obscurity of the situation she was in. She then sat down next to the fountain, looking at her own reflection in the water, pondering upon what has she done to have deserved this. As she closed her eyes for a moment and opened them, she saw a familiar face. And she knew, she was again, in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-110383286064512054?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/110383286064512054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=110383286064512054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/110383286064512054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/110383286064512054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-pathway-was-nothing-but-small.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8187963972534862173</id><published>2008-07-13T22:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T22:50:46.668+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend introduced me to something interesting just a moment ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S.O.A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made me laugh for about 45 minutes. Geez. Hahaha. What's S.O.A. ? Go to YouTube then you'll know. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8187963972534862173?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8187963972534862173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8187963972534862173&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8187963972534862173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8187963972534862173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-girlfriend-introduced-me-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2489885140207810066</id><published>2008-07-10T23:21:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T23:23:26.943+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like a Friday, but it isn't. I'd wish that it was, then I could get my much needed rest on the weekends again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like writing more than ever now. But then ESL has not been treating me good with the silly and nonsensical essays that needs to be written. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No bother, I should get started anyways. I need music. Tata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2489885140207810066?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2489885140207810066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2489885140207810066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2489885140207810066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2489885140207810066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-it-feels-like-friday-but-it-isnt.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1512719391074830154</id><published>2008-07-09T20:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T20:59:28.117+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today doesn't seem all that bad a day as it may seem to be. Apart from the fact that I might have to stay awake and brush up on my Specialist Maths, I had a good nap after college and was able to drink Coke and I managed to score 30/30 for my Physics assessment. Thank *inserts name* for creating the Internet, and thank you *whatever fellow from Canada who did the same experiment as mine* for posting it up. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend is sad, again. Emo, not sure, but sad, definitely. Wait, sad = emo right? So okay, the girlfriend is emo too. Hmm, I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hopeless&lt;/span&gt; apparently. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd better get back to doing Specialist Maths, I'm always easily satisfied. Which explains why I'm here blogging about it. Heh. =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1512719391074830154?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1512719391074830154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1512719391074830154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1512719391074830154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1512719391074830154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-today-doesnt-seem-all-that-bad-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1732191335565426582</id><published>2008-07-06T16:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T17:11:17.718+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that there's actually an international Physics forum, where you post up questions you need to know, and people more intellectual than you are would answer your doubts. Teehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helps solve my experiment on my Physics assignment. Yay. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the link in case you want it. &lt;a href="http://www.physicsforums.com/archive/index.php/"&gt;I am teh Physics genius, ask me anything, me pawn Physics!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1732191335565426582?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1732191335565426582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1732191335565426582&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1732191335565426582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1732191335565426582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-i-realized-that-theres-actually.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5398562853699428844</id><published>2008-07-06T15:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T15:09:33.401+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes there are things better left unsaid, I believe that it is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been downloading old songs again lately, needless to say I've spent 0% of my time preparing for my Specialist Maths test on Thursday. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a sudden need to sleep early these days. Hence, explains why I missed the last few games of Euro 2008 as well as late night yum cha-ing with my cousin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got so many things up my sleeves, and I know I have the time to complete them. But that's the catch isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must.Resist.Temptations.And.Start.Doing.Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pfft, like that's ever worked before. I need to consolidate myself now. Tata. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5398562853699428844?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5398562853699428844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5398562853699428844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5398562853699428844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5398562853699428844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-sometimes-there-are-things-better.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1774303052079239390</id><published>2008-07-04T23:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T23:39:58.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the girlfriend is emo. She has been having weird dreams lately. But I may be wrong. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sleepy, yet so awake. Oh, you get the point, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote a debate speech and judged as well as commented on it. The irony. I need to start writing back more expressive and free-flowing essays to keep my English from deteriorating. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aites, since you've been so patient as to read this post up till this point (yeah right, haha =P ), I'll let you in on a little secret then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin Low Ken Leong &lt;3 Ng Ee Shan | Don't want think rubbish dy la, kay? (: |&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shh, don't go tell anyone aite. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1774303052079239390?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1774303052079239390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1774303052079239390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1774303052079239390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1774303052079239390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-i-think-girlfriend-is-emo_04.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4168812290273924967</id><published>2008-07-03T21:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T21:33:45.225+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the pictures of Starry's/Stwinkly's visit to my tree over the past week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR3i0fVvI/AAAAAAAAA9A/7VRbg7413wI/s1600-h/DSC08749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR3i0fVvI/AAAAAAAAA9A/7VRbg7413wI/s320/DSC08749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776820385535730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yay, with everything in the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR3zFekdI/AAAAAAAAA9I/52TBd3yAqsE/s1600-h/DSC08739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR3zFekdI/AAAAAAAAA9I/52TBd3yAqsE/s320/DSC08739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776824751755730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this is Sesame. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR365iUlI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/pwQl4qZHfyM/s1600-h/DSC08737.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR365iUlI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/pwQl4qZHfyM/s320/DSC08737.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776826849153618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Starry/Stwinkly. Learning how to walk. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjNyCyxI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/ZH_p10A7HT8/s1600-h/DSC08734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjNyCyxI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/ZH_p10A7HT8/s320/DSC08734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776471140748050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yay. Hugs. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjEdgQSI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/M8yAgvRYqLU/s1600-h/DSC08742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjEdgQSI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/M8yAgvRYqLU/s320/DSC08742.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776468638679330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A hug this time for Twinkles, who also has experience in college life and rain, unlike Skittles. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjLHvTFI/AAAAAAAAA8g/uyOpNzOd8fc/s1600-h/DSC08740.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjLHvTFI/AAAAAAAAA8g/uyOpNzOd8fc/s320/DSC08740.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776470426438738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Being sesamized, according to the girlfriend. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjcUmCTI/AAAAAAAAA8o/Fd5J9pwHrqM/s1600-h/DSC08741.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjcUmCTI/AAAAAAAAA8o/Fd5J9pwHrqM/s320/DSC08741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776475043760434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Peek-a-boo. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjTO2GBI/AAAAAAAAA8w/IkKBHgpAJos/s1600-h/DSC08736.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRjTO2GBI/AAAAAAAAA8w/IkKBHgpAJos/s320/DSC08736.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218776472603727890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sesame said, "Come come, take like this".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREEd1AZI/AAAAAAAAA7o/ZIJ8D9UQPHs/s1600-h/DSC08735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREEd1AZI/AAAAAAAAA7o/ZIJ8D9UQPHs/s320/DSC08735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218775936064094610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Twinkles, "Eh, I also want I also want".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRENfzdxI/AAAAAAAAA7w/JqgUG8iA0eY/s1600-h/DSC08738.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzRENfzdxI/AAAAAAAAA7w/JqgUG8iA0eY/s320/DSC08738.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218775938488301330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stone and stoner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREMbnewI/AAAAAAAAA74/boyFSH9nRMM/s1600-h/DSC08743.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREMbnewI/AAAAAAAAA74/boyFSH9nRMM/s320/DSC08743.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218775938202303234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They're actually brothers and sisters, but oh well. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, the girlfriend claims she has been sesamized by Sesame. She as in both Starry/Stwinkly as well as the girlfriend. Hehe. *Being sesamized is good right darling?* =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREWxBM9I/AAAAAAAAA8A/mzxlSAEESas/s1600-h/DSC08750.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREWxBM9I/AAAAAAAAA8A/mzxlSAEESas/s320/DSC08750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218775940976423890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREYqq3oI/AAAAAAAAA8I/22jhhCMrLpU/s1600-h/DSC08751.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzREYqq3oI/AAAAAAAAA8I/22jhhCMrLpU/s320/DSC08751.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218775941486665346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"My love is all I have to give, without you I don't think I can live. I wish I could give the world to you, but love is all I have to give to you". &lt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4168812290273924967?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4168812290273924967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4168812290273924967&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4168812290273924967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4168812290273924967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-these-are-pictures-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGzR3i0fVvI/AAAAAAAAA9A/7VRbg7413wI/s72-c/DSC08749.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4504198788352854219</id><published>2008-07-01T22:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T22:22:07.178+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot of rubbish today. Yes, rubbish. So much that my brain is actually beginning to take a break before my eyes do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head's hurting a little. I think I need to sleep. Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4504198788352854219?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4504198788352854219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4504198788352854219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4504198788352854219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4504198788352854219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/07/ken-ive-been-thinking-lot-of-rubbish.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6657996642876193642</id><published>2008-06-30T23:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T23:22:01.847+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGj5YAeR6BI/AAAAAAAAA7g/Xa75m66muVU/s1600-h/DSC08748.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGj5YAeR6BI/AAAAAAAAA7g/Xa75m66muVU/s320/DSC08748.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217694359147898898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stwinkly/Starry the unicorn has been staying with me since the weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has been sesamized according to the girlfriend. Haha. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shall see how sesamized she becomes in the next post then. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend has been thinking a lot of rubbish, I find it funny in some way. Ridiculously funny actually. So yeah, don't think so much rubbish laaaaa. Piggle². =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6657996642876193642?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6657996642876193642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6657996642876193642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6657996642876193642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6657996642876193642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-stwinklystarry-unicorn-has-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SGj5YAeR6BI/AAAAAAAAA7g/Xa75m66muVU/s72-c/DSC08748.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7096832892948495854</id><published>2008-06-29T17:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T18:05:50.181+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tagged by Lynnett.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1. Six people to tag.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baby&lt;3 (must do ah, lazy pig =P )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chee Kian&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Li Jia&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jun Lin&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mao&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Zhi Wei&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2. Six things I'm passionate about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spending time with the people I love.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Doing things that appeal to me in a good manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sleeping, haha.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting into trouble. Well, most of the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Writing, but it seems rather dead now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Going on trips.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;3. Six things I say too often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Onion&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pig&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bat&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Piggle / Pigil², well just the ²&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baby!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Darling &lt;3&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;4. Six books I've read recently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nicholas Sparks - The Wedding, stuck for like 3weeks now at chapter ten.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vincent &amp;amp; Friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to be a Vincent?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vincent-the Boy Behind the Glasses&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vincent, for Dummies&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What's your name? Bean, Vincent Bean.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;5. Six songs I can listen to again and again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shape of My Heart - Backstreet Boys (almost all of their songs actually)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Iris - Goo Goo Dolls&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Superman - Five for Fighting&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cry - Mandy Moore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Complicated Heart - Michael Learns to Rock (yet again, almost all of their songs I could listen too)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drops of Jupiter - Train&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;p.s. : Six songs is too little to list down! Grrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;6. Six things I learnt in the past year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Years of trust can be easily broken down but extremely hard to build up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People tend to change, unpredictably. But then, it's always better to accept these changes rather than take them as something random and look at it in a negative perspective. There's always two sides to things, just like how there are two sides on a coin. (:&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I need people more than people need me, especially the people close to me. But then, the latter seems to always be perceived in the minds of everyone. Oh well, gotta live with it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No one falls out of love by chance, it is by choice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not everyone can be trusted, not everyone can be given that responsibility, not everyone has that common understanding as you do, not everyone can be relied on, not everyone shares that same conception as you do, not everyone wants to stay inside your circle, and lastly, not everyone wants to be a someone in your life. (:&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent about 30mins doing this tag. Pfft. Longest I've ever spent. Oh wells. Time to do some homework, or at least try to do I guess. Toodles. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7096832892948495854?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7096832892948495854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7096832892948495854&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7096832892948495854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7096832892948495854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-tagged-by-lynnett.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4929887149457999444</id><published>2008-06-26T23:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T23:55:05.561+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend may be right to think that I've been thinking a lot of rubbish lately. I do not know why myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought just enters the mind ever so often, and yeah, leaves me in a river of mixed up perceptions of what may happen or what has already happened or what is happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm like covered deep inside a foliage of leaves. I need a way out. I need to see the sunlight. Yet again, salvation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend needs to stop drinking orange juice. It's been nothing but rubbish thinking everytime she gets her hands on it. Haha. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got the tendency to talk myself in bed these days. Weird. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the library today. Seems like there are more people that seemed to be hardworking after all. No matter though, they don't have what I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gift, and the joy that love brings. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4929887149457999444?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4929887149457999444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4929887149457999444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4929887149457999444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4929887149457999444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-girlfriend-may-be-right-to-think.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8172680927452328144</id><published>2008-06-25T18:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T18:18:28.455+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like a Friday, but it wouldn't be, until Friday has come. Presentation, presentation, no better time for it to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was someone else, and staring at me, I think I wouldn't recognize who that person is. Yes, that's how well I picture myself. I have not been sleeping well lately, and I guess that is the reason for the many unnecessary thoughts in my mind each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been dozing off in class more often than not this week, and that isn't a good sign. If I continue this way, I'm seriously gonna underachieve again for trials, and that would definitely screw up my whole course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't comprehend where I am at, this very moment. Neither could I comprehend and digest everything that has happened and about to happen to me. The future bears a thought that seems embedded in my head for several days now. Not really an imperative influence it has on me for now, so let's hope it stays that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been neglecting my homework again, which yet again, isn't a good thing. I seriously need something to take this absurd course and all that it offers away from me for a moment. At least until the moment I pick myself back up I guess. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My weekends seem relatively busy, but as always when the time comes, nothing ever seems to happen. Typical, ain't it not? Oh well, we'll have to wait and see I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time can't help me, at least not now. Instead, time is proving to be my worst nightmare. Salvation, possibly. But yeah, what's salvation when you're going from a quicksand to a whirlpool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh, I guess I just have to live with everything. Let's just hope I don't screw up my life, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8172680927452328144?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8172680927452328144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8172680927452328144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8172680927452328144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8172680927452328144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-it-feels-like-friday-but-it-wouldnt.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3636457409136958782</id><published>2008-06-23T22:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T23:26:53.726+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are never what they seem to be. Hmm, neither are they what you expect them to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I have the tendency to draw in whirlpools whenever I'm at sea. The more you struggle to get out, the deeper you sink in. Ironic, isn't it? Yeah, it's hard. But at the end of it, I believe it is all worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Internet is running rather slow. I've no idea why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have started my routine of laziness again. Sleep, college, sleep, dinner, sleep. This is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sort of a disappointment lately, as to everyone, especially to my baby I guess. And I'm sorry for that. I'll try to be better, for the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone seems to have realized that SAM is no play time, just like how it was two months before SPM where we had all this seminars. Yet, I'm still the same, just like back then, waiting for each passing day to go by and the moment where it is exactly 24 hours before the exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I don't have to go through &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt; again. My heart can't take &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;, not another time. Not now, not ever. But I guess I can't stop &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;, for I have no say in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;. Time will tell. I want to be able to sleep well again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind is confused as to whether what I'm thinking about is okay or not. But I always seem to think the latter would seem to be the case. Maybe I'm thinking too much, or maybe I am right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3636457409136958782?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3636457409136958782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3636457409136958782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3636457409136958782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3636457409136958782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-things-are-never-what-they-seem-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7478606790042228144</id><published>2008-06-22T19:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T19:47:21.009+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Holland's defeat to Russia already proves to be a bummer, that seems to be the least of my concerns. It's time to revert back to 2006, when Argentina got knocked out. Forza Italia *with a hush voice*. Hmm, think Spain's gonna win though. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a wasted day, besides waking up early, crashing MonRay's place (his parents are crazy people yo, us 6 crashed at his room, while 2 gals in another room, and 2 more guys in the living room, like some drunkard party, heh) and going back to bed again. It feels like a Saturday, and considering college starts again tomorrow, I seriously don't want to endure a whole day of talks that don't appeal to me at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Ronan Keating's songs' lyrics are quite meaningful, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;quite&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a hangover coz' I didn't drink yesterday, but it feels like I have one. I can't focus on even reading articles, and I feel stoned. Okay, maybe I stone &lt;strike&gt;all&lt;/strike&gt; most of the time, but yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm worried over things I don't have to, ignorance is bliss some people say, we'll have to see about that. I realize I don't know a lot about the people around me till yesterday. Seems like everything is different now, everyone. Ignore or ignore. My mind tells me the latter would do just fine, but we'll have to see I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7478606790042228144?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7478606790042228144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7478606790042228144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7478606790042228144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7478606790042228144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-if-hollands-defeat-to-russia.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8077460386013385164</id><published>2008-06-19T23:38:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T23:38:56.294+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blog is dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That ain't too good, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8077460386013385164?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8077460386013385164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8077460386013385164&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8077460386013385164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8077460386013385164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-my-blog-is-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6213538561662748132</id><published>2008-06-18T23:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T23:52:52.303+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like longer than two months, indeed it does. But yeah, happy two months baby! ;D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why, but I have a habit of screwing up in a lot of things. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happens to be one of them. I can't seem to find it, no matter where I've searched, and searched again, and again, and again. Sighs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horoscopes are pretty amiable at times, but sometimes they bring you back to reality, or so they seem to do so. Only if you believe in them that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm really really sorry darling. :/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6213538561662748132?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6213538561662748132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6213538561662748132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6213538561662748132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6213538561662748132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-it-seems-like-longer-than-two.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1863561076113262513</id><published>2008-06-17T21:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T21:01:33.715+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blew my mid-terms, or so my mum says I have. A new lief maybe? Don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more to life than a piece of paper. There's more to the world when you open up your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be gone now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1863561076113262513?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1863561076113262513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1863561076113262513&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1863561076113262513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1863561076113262513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-i-blew-my-mid-terms-or-so-my-mum.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6215662832971961459</id><published>2008-06-15T15:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T15:59:43.792+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clueless'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"And nothing's greater than the race that comes with your embrace,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And in this world of loneliness I see your face".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6215662832971961459?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6215662832971961459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6215662832971961459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6215662832971961459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6215662832971961459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-and-nothings-greater-than-race-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5789350821074767931</id><published>2008-06-14T16:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T16:16:31.188+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin and I talked about some stuff last night, and yeah, it was interesting to think about how boys and girls are brought up these few days. The differences, and yeah, the expectations and trying to provide what's best and all. Knowing what I've gone through before, as well as what he and his girlfriend has gone through, it's like de ja vu all over again. But yeah, that's life I guess. And I'm really sorry to my girlfriend for making her feel guilty and all, and I'm pretty sure she's pretty tired of me saying that and talking to her about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just do not know what to do with my life, and now seems to be the case more than ever. A knife or a rope might help end this misery, but I guess, it is not for me to decide whether I should put myself to eternal slumber. There is always a possibility of doing the right thing, but chances are, you have to gamble a little and take some risks. I just watched Elizabethtown, the reason for this paragraph I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm sailing in the right direction, for if I am not, I guess I'd possibly wind up in the middle of the ocean again. Holland just beat France 4-1. Some comfort at least, in satisfaction, but only for the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5789350821074767931?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5789350821074767931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5789350821074767931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5789350821074767931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5789350821074767931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-my-cousin-and-i-talked-about-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3593994302932116446</id><published>2008-06-10T18:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T18:10:58.706+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College has started, has been anything but good, for everything I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lack of sleep is making my eye bags really really bad now. I look like I got a bruise under my left eye. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The river that flows through my mind has been nothing other than worries and unimaginable thoughts that might turn to reality. Where is my waterfall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time the exam results reach the hands of the parents, I would have to come out with excuses in such that it was affected by the previous test in which I "did not think it would have counted". Pfft, I hate lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sleeping for two hours every night, it doesn't seem sufficient, but it's enough to keep me alive. After all, succumbing to a long deep slumber might result in me worrying over things I am not supposed to worry at this point of time. I am content with that, for I cannot say I am not. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am falling sick. My head is warming up and I can't walk straight. This is bad. Oh well, it don't matter, neither does anything else, as long as I have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; beside me. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3593994302932116446?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3593994302932116446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3593994302932116446&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3593994302932116446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3593994302932116446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-college-has-started-has-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7487921780052564042</id><published>2008-06-09T23:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T23:16:08.620+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending time with my cousin sometimes do have some interesting moments. Just the other day we were talking about the price increase in petrol, and how that going to PJ and Hartamas to yumcha in the middle of the night would come to an end considering the amount of money that would be spent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he came up with a new way to yumcha. It is called online yumcha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Online yumcha is how instead of everyone gathering at a mamak stall to contribute in empty talks and get a late night snack, everyone would gather in front of their computers and sign in to MSN or Skype and yeah, a conference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then how would those people satisfy their cravings of food in the middle of the night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Hey man, wassup?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Nothing, I'm making my own Milo Ais. What're you drinking?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Oh, I made Nescafe".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, how depressing. Haha. I laughed and laughed when he told me this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then everyone would just sit there and IM each other or listen to each other talk nonsense, but at the expense of sitting in front of the computer. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Badawi is crap. Yes, crap. Knowing he'll lose the UMNO elections, he increases the price of everything to make those Malays who won't vote for him suffer. Pfft. What a biatch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Badawi is so not the way to go. BN was never the way to go this elections. Someone ought to assassinate him and get this hell over with. Oil prices increasing 30cents per month, electricity bill increasing by a possible staggering few hundred bucks, why not just put a price tag on inhaling oxygen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoted from Ho, "What kind of leader is this man, shit leader. What does he expect from us?". Directed to another political head though, but yeah, applies for everything political in Malaysia. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7487921780052564042?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7487921780052564042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7487921780052564042&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7487921780052564042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7487921780052564042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-spending-time-with-my-cousin.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5258466750521814673</id><published>2008-06-08T20:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T20:33:04.459+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's good to know, sometimes it isn't. The truth is at times kind of a hassle to deal with, but sometimes it is the thing you want to know most. Curiosity is indeed a killer, but at the end of it, sometimes it is worth dying for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know a lot of things, maybe it is meant for it to be that way, knowing too much could be a bad thing, and knowing just that little bit more could kill what's left of me. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks has gone by like a blink of an eye, the clouds are shifting back to its original place. The sun is setting, pretty soon night time will fall, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't been able to do a lot of things I wanted to do this holidays, but no matter, venturing into more than what I can afford to take in could prove again, a killer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5258466750521814673?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5258466750521814673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5258466750521814673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5258466750521814673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5258466750521814673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-sometimes-its-good-to-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5648129075302453465</id><published>2008-06-07T12:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T12:31:55.248+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I've been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But my breath fogged up the glass,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And so I drew a new face and I laughed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I guess what I'd be saying is there ain't no better reason,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To rid yourself of vanity and just go with the season,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's what we aim to do,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Our name is our virtue ".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5648129075302453465?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5648129075302453465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5648129075302453465&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5648129075302453465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5648129075302453465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-ive-been-spending-way-too-long.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6565882273586610908</id><published>2008-06-04T14:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T14:47:42.685+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm Yours&lt;/span&gt; at the moment. It's soothing, the melody and the way he sings it makes it all the better to listen to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like those kampung songs in a way, I think. But I don't really fancy kampung songs, however this one I like. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MSN is making itself room into the computer again, lunch is downstairs awaiting my hungry stomach to munch on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep last night, only out of tiredness due to staring at the TV screen and numb hands from messing around with the PS2 controller kept me away from staying nocturnal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe a trip to BR next door later would do me some good. I realize I'm quite a fool sometimes, oblivious to everything, then maybe I do deserve &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6565882273586610908?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6565882273586610908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6565882273586610908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6565882273586610908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6565882273586610908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-im-addicted-to-im-yours-at-moment.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7409338593646976523</id><published>2008-06-03T23:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T23:19:32.879+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams sometimes come true, whether bad or good ones. Sometimes I don't know whether it's from a dream, or it's a memory, but de ja vu situations seem to happen more often than I thought they would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they were from dreams, then the scene is all too familiar, or maybe it is not. I wonder. Time has a mean way of telling stories sometimes, this could be one of it, but then it is not for me to decide whether it is. Worries, fear, and distorted imaginations haunt the feeble mind of mine like butterflies set free from their cages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is sleeping day. I had tiramisu ice-cream, it didn't taste that bad. MSN is still not able to run for some reason. I've got a DVD player in the living room. Sleep is the last thing that is on my mind, or is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7409338593646976523?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7409338593646976523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7409338593646976523&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7409338593646976523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7409338593646976523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-dreams-sometimes-come-true-whether.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2258078888447406342</id><published>2008-06-02T23:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T23:24:15.278+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My MSN is buggy, I can't seem to sign in. Curse *inserts whoever who created MSN's name* for not helping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out with baby to Mid Valley today. Found out we were short of cash to get a jigsaw puzzle set, sniffles. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tiramisu flavour is on top of my chocolate ice cream in my pint of BR. This is so not good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2258078888447406342?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2258078888447406342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2258078888447406342&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2258078888447406342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2258078888447406342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-my-msn-is-buggy-i-cant-seem-to-sign.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2980059898709660231</id><published>2008-06-02T15:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T15:00:01.705+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People say my blog is emo. But my blog isn't emo! Ish. Well, it used to be, but then don't say till that now also very emo laaa. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, last Thursday, the family had dinner at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAykAFWdI/AAAAAAAAA7A/PNBjlLX6nY8/s1600-h/DSC08699.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAykAFWdI/AAAAAAAAA7A/PNBjlLX6nY8/s320/DSC08699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207147200316266962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eest Restaurant, it's inside the Westin Hotel. Nice place, but very very expensive yo. Drinks itself cost us around RM400+. Pfft. And that also we brought our own champagne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAy0AFWeI/AAAAAAAAA7I/-o5T4ZVlt78/s1600-h/DSC08716.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAy0AFWeI/AAAAAAAAA7I/-o5T4ZVlt78/s320/DSC08716.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207147204611234274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At least the table set was pretty. It had feather pillows too. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAy0AFWfI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/CqC1cjn2CWc/s1600-h/DSC08688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAy0AFWfI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/CqC1cjn2CWc/s320/DSC08688.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207147204611234290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While waiting for everyone to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiEAFWXI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/0-olkkfXEXM/s1600-h/DSC08708.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiEAFWXI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/0-olkkfXEXM/s320/DSC08708.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146916848425330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The champagne glasses. Like an army going to war, wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiEAFWYI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/x0wAap8ZHR4/s1600-h/DSC08710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiEAFWYI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/x0wAap8ZHR4/s320/DSC08710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146916848425346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My cousin took this shot, and it had the hot waitress in it. =D&lt;br /&gt;She smiled at me okay when I was at the table! Too bad she didn't serve our table. Must go back again next time. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiUAFWZI/AAAAAAAAA6g/pWMsnJO6PA8/s1600-h/DSC08696.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiUAFWZI/AAAAAAAAA6g/pWMsnJO6PA8/s320/DSC08696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146921143392658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kitchen, those red lights are damn hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiUAFWaI/AAAAAAAAA6o/DeiGFizN_gk/s1600-h/DSC08698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAiUAFWaI/AAAAAAAAA6o/DeiGFizN_gk/s320/DSC08698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146921143392674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, the kitchen is like an open kitchen, everyone can see the chefs cook. And we had the head chef to cook for us, which I guess adds to the reason why the dinner was so expensive. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAikAFWbI/AAAAAAAAA6w/RZ1rr-D303M/s1600-h/DSC08709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAikAFWbI/AAAAAAAAA6w/RZ1rr-D303M/s320/DSC08709.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146925438359986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My uncle and my little cousin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOEAFWSI/AAAAAAAAA5o/BQDyj_3_tRc/s1600-h/DSC08724.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOEAFWSI/AAAAAAAAA5o/BQDyj_3_tRc/s320/DSC08724.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146573251041570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of their signature dishes. It doesn't seem too appealing and it seems like carrot juice, but it tasted like heaven. It's lobster meat, crab meat, soup and the mee. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOUAFWTI/AAAAAAAAA5w/C9Zv26it0fQ/s1600-h/DSC08714.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOUAFWTI/AAAAAAAAA5w/C9Zv26it0fQ/s320/DSC08714.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146577546008882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some weird eye ball thingy in the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOUAFWUI/AAAAAAAAA54/MhHHBpYsYhc/s1600-h/DSC08722.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOUAFWUI/AAAAAAAAA54/MhHHBpYsYhc/s320/DSC08722.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146577546008898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My shoes are glowing. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOUAFWVI/AAAAAAAAA6A/-2ddpSJqLQA/s1600-h/DSC08726.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOUAFWVI/AAAAAAAAA6A/-2ddpSJqLQA/s320/DSC08726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146577546008914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My aunt's birthday cake, the occasion why we are here for dinner. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's the vice prez of the Olympic Council of Malaysia, &lt;strike&gt;the reason why me and my cousins get free VIP passes to any sports event in Malaysia hehehehehe&lt;/strike&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOkAFWWI/AAAAAAAAA6I/QQHk9MNpvDo/s1600-h/DSC08729.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOkAFWWI/AAAAAAAAA6I/QQHk9MNpvDo/s320/DSC08729.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207146581840976226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And last but not least, family photo with some guests of course, I wasn't looking the wrong way okay, there were two cameras. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"There's never a wish better than this, when you've only got a 100years to live".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAOkAFWWI/AAAAAAAAA6I/QQHk9MNpvDo/s1600-h/DSC08729.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2980059898709660231?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2980059898709660231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2980059898709660231&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2980059898709660231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2980059898709660231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/06/ken-people-say-my-blog-is-emo.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SEOAykAFWdI/AAAAAAAAA7A/PNBjlLX6nY8/s72-c/DSC08699.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3122359431022293026</id><published>2008-05-30T13:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T14:11:01.438+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe life is never meant to be the same old thing it is to be every now and then. More often than not, you meet new people and let them enter your lives in hope to make it a better place to live in. More often than not, you lose common ground with others and both share the fate of apathetic glances where one would not be able to look at the other the same way as they once did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I owe people explanations, but are my new priorities that incomprehensible that I must make room for just about anything and everything? I believe I am right by saying that yes, I am a different person from who I am before. Maybe it is because of the unexpected changes, but even so, I believe I am not wrong to adapt to these changes and live with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot relive the past, even as much as I want to, the most is to the extent of dreaming and waking up in hope that today would be different and that it would be something significant. However, that never seems to be the case. As different as I am now, answers are indeed what you people want from me. I cannot live up to your expectations anymore, for it is not within my reach to do so, as again, I have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought that there would be borderlines in friendships, but yes, you people have proved me wrong once again. A little tendency to be flexible for the moment knowing what I've gone through in the last few months, and the need to steer this ship in the right direction, is all that I was asking and hoping for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may seem that I have a lot of time up my sleeve, but how that misconception has eluded the minds of people I thought I once knew puzzles me till this very day. I am not enthralled at all but the sense that I am not given the chance to receive and justify myself in whatever means necessary, for yet again, I just do not have the time for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I'm sure in your minds now this is just an excuse, as always, no? But mind you, this is not an excuse, but instead a clarity of what seems to be a cloud of mist surrounding me, if that is how you put it. Things has not been the same, nothing is meant to stay the way it is, and yeah, there are times where awkwardness will tend to sneak in through that little creek between the door and the floor, but yeah, it takes time to push it back out the way it came in. And that is called resolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My changed personality if that is how you would say, might not always be that only personality of me, for everyone has their own traits and equal uniqueness, and congratulations, you people have shown me how unique you are to the extent of even going behind my backs, judging me over a couple of instances, creating delusions of me amongst other people, and even to the extent of well, say deleting me off phonebooks and MSN contacts' list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind that, I believe I am also wrong in my sense that I always hoped for a lot of things, and hence, resulting in me giving back what only is given to me, the cold shoulder. I admit I for one have the tendency to be shy, and I am pretty shallow at times in expressing my gratitude and my appreciation, but if it ever crossed your mind that I have done nothing, then yes, you have the rights to put me outside of your circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah, I know you might think this is another Justin Low scam to increase his PI ratings or whatsoever. But mind you, I sacked my PI manager long before I started venturing into the jungles of love, right Mr. Aaron Chiu? (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been nothing short of myself over these couple of months. In life, there are transition periods, this is one of them, something like last year when my ex flew to London. That's when things change, priorities change, and well, your life changes as well. I am deeply sorry if my changes has resulted in you people thinking that well, I have kept you all out of my circle, but over small instances like these, I'm sure anyone in their right and sane mind would know that, that isn't true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may not appeal to you people to think that way, but yeah, I have no say in making you change your judgement and opinion about me. If you think I have changed, and I have not fulfilled your fantasy world the way it should be, then by all means go ahead and think that way. Because yes, I have changed, everyone else will, but it is how people accept these changes and adapt to them and still live with the fact that things might not be the same as before, but yeah, as friends, I believe friendships would never change unless you start judging that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My priorities has differed, we'll not be as tight as before, but is it mine or my girlfriend's fault that it is like this? I believe not, and ask anyone who has fallen in love to whether their priorities have changed or not. If you can't accept that, or you can't understand that, I'm sorry, that's all I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit that I've not been the closest of pals to you all now, but neither have you people to me. How many of you actually ever felt happy for me when I was elated? Sadness, yes, everyone tends to stick their foot in, why? Coz' you people can't live without dramas. Yeah, the interest in wanting to know what's gonna happen next just makes you wanna stay that little longer until it is over. Am I not right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that I am at loss for you walking out on me, then you're somehow just lying to yourself. Coz' yeah, time is all that it takes to tell a person apart. And thinking that I am in the wrong and I am the cause of every single unfortunate incident in your life just makes me laugh every time I think about it. Coz' we both know that all it takes is a little time and everything will unravel, if you can't wait, I'm truly sorry again, as my endurance in relationships, be it friendship or love, is indeed one not many people can come to comprehend about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a person like me, and how you people feel about me, I'm sure you would probably be thinking that I'm a really hated person. But I can tell you that you are wrong. Yes, at times I may be the last person you would want to talk to, but I never hold grudges on anyone, neither do I do anything in which would hurt anyone by condemning that person. Yeah, you do see people talking about me behind my back, but how many go to the extent of actually daring to tell the world about it? None. You know why? Coz' I've been nothing but myself and you people who thinks I'm all that drama and that bitch know that I'm nothing like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe this has gone long enough. I am neither sad nor happy at the moment. But I'm sure it'll please you all for me to feel sad for everything. So just for that sake, I'll throw in a sad face. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh, there you go. I'm gonna go continue reading now. Yes, I'm reading a story book. One of the many things that I have changed about myself. If you're dissatisfied with that, yet again, I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles. Thanks a whole lot for reading, if you really did. Hehe. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*I'm my own worst enemy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3122359431022293026?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3122359431022293026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3122359431022293026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3122359431022293026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3122359431022293026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-believe-life-is-never-meant-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8439189143604892713</id><published>2008-05-28T23:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T23:47:40.302+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby came over today, and we pretty much stoned, and stoned some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to watch some old shows, but then ended up lazing in the bed till about 2.30pm I think. So yeah, then being the pigs we were, it took pretty much a long time before actually getting off the bed. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we ended up watching Pride &amp;amp; Prejudice. Hehe, after such a long time not watching it. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's a great movie, for some reason, I don't know. Though there are still one or two scenes where the English of the medieval people surpass mine, but yeah, it's intriguing to see the way they speak in such a manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okays, I shall figure out whether I want to drink Coke or not now. Toodles. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*You're every minute of my every day. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8439189143604892713?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8439189143604892713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8439189143604892713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8439189143604892713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8439189143604892713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-baby-came-over-today-and-we-pretty.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-711700520206902419</id><published>2008-05-27T16:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T17:30:57.084+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tags'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tagged by &lt;strike&gt;Tze Sandbag Szi&lt;/strike&gt; Zhi Wei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Name one person who made you laugh last night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My cousin! Playing with helium balloons is much fun. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What were you doing at 0800?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Having weird dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What were you doing 30minutes ago?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Watching the television. What ever happened to Spongebob!??!? It's been ages since I last saw it. Sniffles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What happened to you in 2006?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wow, I think it's too much to be said in just a few words I guess. Lazy to write laaa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What was the last thing you said out loud?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can't remember. Pfft.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How many beverages did you have today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;One bottle of water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What colour is your hairbrush?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Void.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What was the last thing you paid for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Parking valet at Courtyard Garden.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where were you last night?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Courtyard Garden, having dinner, and getting dizzy over champagne. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What colour is your front door?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Front door of? White la I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where do you keep your change?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wallet la. Unless you're talking about one cents. Teehee. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's the weather like today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gloomy and a little mixture of happy and confused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's the best ice-cream flavour?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chocolate. Belgian chocolate. Hehe. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What excites you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seeing my darling after a day or two, and erm, futsal. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you want to cut your hair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maybe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you over the age of 25?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;25months, yes. Years, go figure. =P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you talk a lot?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Only when necessary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you watch the O.C.?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Used to, coz' it was like 2-3am in the morning, so yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you know anyone named Steven?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Steven's Corner. Hahahaha. Okay, that was lame. Pfft.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you make up your own words?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yesh! =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you a jealous person?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Name me one person who isn't. But yeah, I am pretty much so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Name a friend whose name starts with the letter 'A'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Al Kok. Hahaha. I still remember the "Kamu! Yang pakai cermin mata itu!" moment. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Name a friend whose name starts with 'K'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken! =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who's the first person on your received call list?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My mum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What does the last text message you received say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Some stupid MaxisGift message&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you chew on your straws?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Used to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have curly hair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No. Never will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where's the next place you're going to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Heaven. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who's the rudest person in your life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My little cousin brother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Loser". "Don't call me loser you fucker". Kids these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What was the last thing you ate?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Spaghetti. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Will you get married in the future?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Definitely. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Is there anyone you like right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yesh, but I not only like her, I love her to bits too. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When was the last time you did the dishes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can't remember. Erm, last 2months?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you currently depressed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes and no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Did you cry today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nopes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why did you answer and post this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coz' I've got too much time up my sleeve. Pfft. =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*When you smile at me you know exactly what you do. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-711700520206902419?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/711700520206902419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=711700520206902419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/711700520206902419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/711700520206902419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-tagged-by-tze-sandbag-szi-zhi-wei.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3589010532782735995</id><published>2008-05-25T15:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T15:19:32.136+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my girlfriend have a weird way of calling each other sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other couples would give like sweet names to their partners but we have weird names for each other, right baby? =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'You can be a monkey only if I am a pig'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'No, I be monkey, and you be onion, fly, mosquito, pig, and bear'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'I want bear and pig only. You can have the rest, see I'm so nice'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Don't want la, they're yours la. And i left out sandbag'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'It's sandbag GIRLFRIEND okay'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Drowning in your love. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3589010532782735995?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3589010532782735995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3589010532782735995&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3589010532782735995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3589010532782735995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-me-and-my-girlfriend-have-weird-way.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2823521478182849921</id><published>2008-05-22T17:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T17:27:29.190+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad the holidays are nearing. One more paper, but it feels like an eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to let myself go. I need a getaway. Away from everything. Sometimes I just wish I could go back to the park in Hartamas and lie down on the grass by the dark starry sky and let myself wander into my own thoughts, thoughts that I never have to bother anything about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Away from the worries, away from the stress, away from the expectations, away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times where you realize you've been trying to please everyone, and although that may not seem the case here, but I assure you, it hasn't been easy for me too. These are the times you realize, that all you've been doing is trying to please everyone else, but you please anyone but yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watched 'Ask the Dust', it's the reason why I'm alive now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to move on to 'Casanova'. Hopefully that'll keep me alive for the next 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Even if the sun refuse to shine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2823521478182849921?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2823521478182849921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2823521478182849921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2823521478182849921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2823521478182849921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-im-so-glad-holidays-are-nearing.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2081311304711533673</id><published>2008-05-21T23:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T23:16:06.112+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SDQ8ItzDL3I/AAAAAAAAA5Q/jrrnEYLD7vc/s1600-h/DSC08672.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SDQ8ItzDL3I/AAAAAAAAA5Q/jrrnEYLD7vc/s320/DSC08672.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202849589950099314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                  Loves &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Dancing in the dark in the middle of the night, taking your heart and holding it tight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2081311304711533673?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2081311304711533673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2081311304711533673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2081311304711533673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2081311304711533673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-loves-3-dancing-in-dark-in-middle.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SDQ8ItzDL3I/AAAAAAAAA5Q/jrrnEYLD7vc/s72-c/DSC08672.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5107735539706097844</id><published>2008-05-19T17:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T17:27:37.731+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 5.30pm, I hadn't started studying for my mid-year, which starts tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maths and Specialist Maths are the papers tomorrow, and I am unprepared more than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do a single question of Maths, yes, 0. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm destined to fail SAM. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm gonna be panic-ing soon. I feel stupid. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*On the way down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5107735539706097844?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5107735539706097844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5107735539706097844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5107735539706097844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5107735539706097844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-its-5.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1314460759443915847</id><published>2008-05-18T20:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T21:22:29.464+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across something interesting lately, and it really made me laugh hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chuck Norris Facts-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can speak Braille.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you have $5, and Chuck Norris has $5, Chuck Norris has more money than you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris doesn't have a Ctrl button on his keyboard because Chuck Norris is always in control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris doesn't sleep... He waits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you ever ask yourself a question, the best possible answer would be Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris took a big ball of crap and made them into planets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jesus can walk on water, but Chuck Norris can swim on dry land.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God said, "Let there be light". Chuck Norris said, "Say please".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can divide by zeros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris visited The Virgin Islands once, it is now known as The Islands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris has friends on MySpace that doesn't even have a MySpace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can unscramble an egg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When Chuck Norris does a push up, he isn't pushing himself up, he's pushing the Earth down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris once shot down a German airplane by pointing at it and yelling "Bang!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;First rule about Chuck Norris: Don't talk about Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why did the chicken cross the road? To get away from Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris once roundhouse-kicked a salesman, over the phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can win a game of Connect Four in three moves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is no theory of evolution, just a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bible was originally titled 'Chuck Norris &amp;amp; Friends'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris once kicked a horse in the chin. Its descendants are now known as giraffes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When Bruce Banner gets mad, he turns into the Hulk. When the Hulk gets mad, he turns into Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can judge a book by its cover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If at first you don't succeed, you're not Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In a fight between Batman and Darth Vader, the winner is Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris doesn't wear a watch, he decides what time it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris sleeps with a pillow under his gun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Only Chuck Norris can prevent forest fires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can cook minute rice, in 30seconds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris isn't afraid of the dark, the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Iraq doesn't have weapons of mass destruction, because Chuck Norris lives in America.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris knows Victoria's Secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris once killed two stones with one bird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris doesn't use spell check. If he misspells a word, Oxford simply changes the actual spelling of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When the Boogeyman goes to sleep at night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Outer space exists because it didn't want to live on the same planet as Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The government tried to mimic Chuck Norris' roundhouse-kick, but they only got nuclear bombs, they weren't even close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris doesn't dodge bullets, the bullets dodge Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can solve a rubics cube by staring at it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God was named 'God' because the name 'Chuck Norris' was already taken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can drown a fish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris makes onions cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;On Chuck Norris' calendar, it goes from 31st March to 2nd April because nobody fools Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you Google "Chuck Norris gets his ass kicked", your computer will explode.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There are no disabled people, only people who met Chuck Norris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris scared the black out of Michael Jackson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can squeeze orange juice out of bananas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chuck Norris can do a wheelie on a unicycle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We only live because Chuck Norris lets us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=====&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you had a laugh. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Little wonders. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1314460759443915847?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1314460759443915847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1314460759443915847&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1314460759443915847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1314460759443915847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-came-across-something-interesting.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6755212685150751839</id><published>2008-05-18T20:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T20:20:19.609+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First. Of many more to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, of many many more to come. Aww. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*When I look into your eyes I know that it's true, God must have spent a little more time on you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6755212685150751839?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6755212685150751839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6755212685150751839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6755212685150751839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6755212685150751839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-first.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-517584898677888372</id><published>2008-05-17T20:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T20:13:46.966+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird dreams. Bed-rolling. Television. Pig movie. Hair cut. Futsal. 13 goals. Laze. Shower. More lazing. Talks with my piggy &lt;3. Dinner. Spaghetti. Stone. Sleep maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day in the life of a monkey. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Sometimes I wish I could turn back time, impossible as it may seem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-517584898677888372?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/517584898677888372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=517584898677888372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/517584898677888372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/517584898677888372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-weird-dreams.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6585702254310551685</id><published>2008-05-15T22:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T22:47:38.361+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally can remember what I want to blog about now. But then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really hungry, so I'll just leave this post as a reminder. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kthxbai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Helpless when she smiles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6585702254310551685?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6585702254310551685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6585702254310551685&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6585702254310551685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6585702254310551685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-finally-can-remember-what-i-want.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7020850088110713050</id><published>2008-05-14T23:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T23:01:18.445+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to forget about the things I want to blog about when I'm here, but when I'm away, I can remember. Hmm, this is so not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know sometimes you just wanna know what goes through people's mind? Yeah, it just gets you kind of worked out about it right. Hmm, you think you know what's going on, but then you're just not that sure. It sucks, yeah. Doubting isn't really part of any solution, neither is assuming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you'll never be sure, even if it's spoken, I guess. A lot of people want what you have, but they never get it. They try, they resort to ways to get that something in ways you yourself cannot comprehend, for you do not know what is going on. Yet again, it sucks. At the end of the day, you just hope, for the inability to understand the situation forehand, results in nothing, but dangles there waiting for the wind to take it to where it may go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*I'm a house of cards in a hurricane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7020850088110713050?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7020850088110713050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7020850088110713050&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7020850088110713050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7020850088110713050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-seem-to-forget-about-things-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5168969167302639053</id><published>2008-05-14T20:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T20:58:13.469+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm inspired to write now. Yes, after today. And after I plan the story nicely. Hopefully it won't be like the others. Oh wells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Please give me something, coz' someday I might call you from my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5168969167302639053?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5168969167302639053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5168969167302639053&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5168969167302639053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5168969167302639053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-think-im-inspired-to-write-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7527056374849725834</id><published>2008-05-12T23:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T23:07:38.225+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like writing stories again. The last one didn't do too well coz' it got abandoned mid-way through, well, just like every other one I guess. Hmm, don't know whether I should start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The small hands on my watch which points the days isn't working. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is today filled with random posts, omg la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*The words you said you sang to me, and you showed me where I wanna be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7527056374849725834?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7527056374849725834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7527056374849725834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7527056374849725834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7527056374849725834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-feel-like-writing-stories-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4194664209658112367</id><published>2008-05-12T22:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T22:58:25.573+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yays, mid-term break is around the corner. But first, slain the might mid-term papers I must. Okay, that was lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I seem to have like one day in the entire month where I'll be really craving for food and I'll be starving the whole day. Hmm, something is wrong somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*4 o'clock in the morning, my mind's filled with a thousand thoughts of you. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4194664209658112367?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4194664209658112367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4194664209658112367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4194664209658112367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4194664209658112367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-yays-mid-term-break-is-around.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6434423748259785650</id><published>2008-05-11T17:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T17:15:18.428+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marie Digby's acoustic versions are the love yo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Move in a little closer, take it to a whisper, just a little louder. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6434423748259785650?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6434423748259785650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6434423748259785650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6434423748259785650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6434423748259785650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-marie-digbys-acoustic-versions-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3459440139550794339</id><published>2008-05-10T12:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T13:04:33.011+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hasn't been the nicest of weeks, neither has it been the worst of em'. But all in all, I guess it's been not that bad a week to sum it all up. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having weirder dreams now, like how pushing the car downhill and then knowing that I accidentally pushed it a tad bit too hard to dreaming more about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite everything that's happened, I guess it isn't so bad. Mid-term is around the corner, but I guess there wouldn't be enough time to study, so why bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I've been over-thinking a lot, but I decided to ignore most of the things so that I wouldn't find myself spending hours staring at nothing while stoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a stress-ball. Baby has Tortoise, I need one myself. Hmm, futsal would be nice, but my whole body's aching now thanks to badminton. Sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, thanks again baby for everything for the past week. I know I'm like repeating this over and over again, but yeah. I know it has been rather boring and very very tensed at times, but I'm really glad to have you beside me. I'm sorry for the *you know what* incidents that I caused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is one of the many uncountable reasons why I love my girlfriend so much, apart from being my onion-head, piggy, onion, and my sandbag. Ooppss. Hehe. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Say it again for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3459440139550794339?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3459440139550794339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3459440139550794339&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3459440139550794339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3459440139550794339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-it-hasnt-been-nicest-of-weeks.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4206001344305638304</id><published>2008-05-08T16:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T17:03:23.121+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unknown'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard for a sparrow to find a nest, for there are many trees around the forest. A little sparrow, finding and searching, only to discover the best nesting ground is taken, the irony. The sparrow moves on, in hope to find one just as inviting and nice. It's driven by the will to live, the determination to survive, and the lust to nest. It's surreptitious movement, so nimble, so elegant, yet so unappreciated. It moves on, again, through the rain, through the winds, through the snow, but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't remain defeated however, only a pinch of disappointment, maybe. Unraveling the forest bit by bit, it still continues its search. Hindered by more setbacks, but motivated by the morning sun day after day. The sparrow knows, that there may not be another perfect nesting ground as the one it found on its first encounter, but in hope it believes in, and in faith that one day there will be one that's meant for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when hope seemingly has been wiped away, a glimmer of light appears at the end of the tunnel. That amiable view, that brilliant sighting, the perfect nesting ground, it has found. The sparrow was treated to a mountain-high of satisfaction. However, it did not remain that way. Much to its joy, it knows that it didn't belong there, for it did not understood the need to settle in a perfect nesting ground. It realized, that the necessity to be perfect, isn't so perfect after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the sparrow moves on, it knows, but it somehow doesn't. As it moves away, it glances back at that spot only to see another sparrow resting on that nesting ground. It sheds a tear, but carries on in flight with a heavy, but strong heart. It knows, but then again, it doesn't. Curiosity begins to develop inside the sparrow, but it is ignored, as the sparrow knows, if only the nesting ground could speak, what would it probably say? It wonders, as it flies away into the deep tropical forest, never to be seen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love story? Hell no. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Flight of the bumblebee-buzz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4206001344305638304?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4206001344305638304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4206001344305638304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4206001344305638304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4206001344305638304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-its-hard-for-sparrow-to-find-nest.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-684220517976831555</id><published>2008-05-08T16:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T16:45:31.687+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when there are things that you know coz' you know, and there are times when there are things you think you know, but you actually don't. I usually do know, but I guess the latter describes me better now somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get it? Well, they're words only I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Next year today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-684220517976831555?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/684220517976831555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=684220517976831555&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/684220517976831555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/684220517976831555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-there-are-times-when-there-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-673201386019756870</id><published>2008-05-05T21:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T21:27:49.969+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life. Couldn't be much more intricate, difficult, stressful, but enjoyable at the same time. Love. Is a many splendid thing. Makes life. The more reason to enjoy, and carry on with it. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Take on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-673201386019756870?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/673201386019756870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=673201386019756870&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/673201386019756870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/673201386019756870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5825666981191378780</id><published>2008-05-04T13:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T13:45:27.883+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some pictures from the past week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MMlG4IfI/AAAAAAAAA44/XkX1gqv9pC0/s1600-h/DSC08628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MMlG4IfI/AAAAAAAAA44/XkX1gqv9pC0/s320/DSC08628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393324058518002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Butterflies and a pig, yes, on my hand. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MM1G4IgI/AAAAAAAAA5A/VQ1NEXETqVk/s1600-h/DSC08629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MM1G4IgI/AAAAAAAAA5A/VQ1NEXETqVk/s320/DSC08629.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393328353485314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thanks to baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MD1G4IZI/AAAAAAAAA4I/LNG-7QwtFrs/s1600-h/DSC08630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MD1G4IZI/AAAAAAAAA4I/LNG-7QwtFrs/s320/DSC08630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393173734662546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Silly Tilly with my name tag. = =&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MD1G4IaI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/iFAT0DRutSw/s1600-h/DSC08631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MD1G4IaI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/iFAT0DRutSw/s320/DSC08631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393173734662562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Basketball before the barbeque.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MEFG4IbI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/0syQ0-Tq1So/s1600-h/DSC08632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MEFG4IbI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/0syQ0-Tq1So/s320/DSC08632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393178029629874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MEFG4IcI/AAAAAAAAA4g/EEFFDO1jmTk/s1600-h/DSC08633.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MEFG4IcI/AAAAAAAAA4g/EEFFDO1jmTk/s320/DSC08633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393178029629890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MEVG4IdI/AAAAAAAAA4o/GGz2CI4IdB0/s1600-h/DSC08634.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MEVG4IdI/AAAAAAAAA4o/GGz2CI4IdB0/s320/DSC08634.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196393182324597202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L2VG4IUI/AAAAAAAAA3g/EX4alkjsvjw/s1600-h/DSC08635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L2VG4IUI/AAAAAAAAA3g/EX4alkjsvjw/s320/DSC08635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196392941806428482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we decided to go back for me to grab a shower before coming back and we saw this very beautiful view of the sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L2lG4IVI/AAAAAAAAA3o/u1_0S5k7zTo/s1600-h/DSC08636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L2lG4IVI/AAAAAAAAA3o/u1_0S5k7zTo/s320/DSC08636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196392946101395794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And thus, resulting in baby snapping pictures of it. Haha. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L2lG4IWI/AAAAAAAAA3w/Ah_LiRwOFeM/s1600-h/DSC08637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L2lG4IWI/AAAAAAAAA3w/Ah_LiRwOFeM/s320/DSC08637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196392946101395810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My toe after futsal. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L21G4IXI/AAAAAAAAA34/FGm13AC4kZE/s1600-h/DSC08639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L21G4IXI/AAAAAAAAA34/FGm13AC4kZE/s320/DSC08639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196392950396363122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The amount of blood lost, no wonder why my left foot cramped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L21G4IYI/AAAAAAAAA4A/mK20MtM1yew/s1600-h/DSC08638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1L21G4IYI/AAAAAAAAA4A/mK20MtM1yew/s320/DSC08638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196392950396363138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, the wound which made it like tat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Like the sun coming up in the morning, like holding the world in your hands. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5825666981191378780?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5825666981191378780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5825666981191378780&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5825666981191378780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5825666981191378780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-some-pictures-from-past-week.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SB1MMlG4IfI/AAAAAAAAA44/XkX1gqv9pC0/s72-c/DSC08628.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5118156764471829364</id><published>2008-05-04T13:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T13:24:18.934+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Collided. Stumbled. Fallen. Lifted. Enthralled. Standing again. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*It's the way you make me feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5118156764471829364?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5118156764471829364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5118156764471829364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5118156764471829364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5118156764471829364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-collided.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2615868495560680710</id><published>2008-05-03T19:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T19:37:38.734+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighs, my life is officially screwed. As in seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Back at one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2615868495560680710?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2615868495560680710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2615868495560680710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2615868495560680710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2615868495560680710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-sighs-my-life-is-officially-screwed.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1446290253416238861</id><published>2008-05-03T09:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T09:32:21.236+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a jerk. I always have been. I don't deserve anything I get in life, I don't earn them, neither do I do anything to get them. Maybe I don't deserve being the person that I am now. I'm sure all of you would agree with me on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really hurts knowing that you've been a jerk so bad till the closest person to you cannot trust you 100% with what you say or do, and that your so called friends will always think that you're nothing but just someone which doesn't get what he gives. Yeah, that's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often wonder do I deserve the constant inability to sleep well, the sudden rush of thoughts to the head, and the constant thoughts that keep popping up in my head every now and then, and yeah, I guess all of you would agree that I do deserve much worse than that. Coz' yeah, I agree with you all too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's bad enough the people you love find it hard to trust you as well as look at you differently when they see you based on each thing you do. But to add the fact that your life is an entire last minute plan out, just kind of makes it that much harder to please anyone and everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand if you do not want to talk to me again, coz' yeah, I haven't been that much of a friend when you needed me to be. I'm sorry. I guess I just neglected my responsibility as a friend knowing what my other priorities were. I'm sorry for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't been the nicest person I could be lately, and that I have been nothing but a jerk, but I'd hope you people would understand and contemplate my reasons for acting in such a manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, it seems like hoping for something like that wasn't really the right thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure Mao's extremely pissed at me now, that Ho and Lai aren't exactly too happy with me either, that Zhi Wei is pretty mad at be for sandbag-ing him last time, that my ex-school mates prolly wished I be less of a snob as well as that much less of a jerk, and also that baby prolly thinks that I ain't that much of your sensible and lovable guy anymore and much more of a jerk instead of being a trusted and caring boyfriend in which you'd hope I be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand and I'm able to comprehend why you people feel this way about me, and it is my own fault for putting myself into such a predicament. I'm sorry for making you people feel this way, and I'm even more sorry that it is only up till now that I have to come and apologize to all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post isn't to ask for your pity and sympathy towards the predicament I am in now, neither is it a must for you to even respond to it. Coz' honestly, I don't deserve the effort and time you people put in for me and despite being the jerk that I am, I never hold grudges, and I understand that I even with this, it wouldn't change anything that's been happening at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes in life when things are against you, it really is. I need a getaway. I think it's best that I stay away for the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't sleep well last night, to add to the account I only slept at 5am and woke up 7am after having 2 very weird dreams, again, and apart from momentarily slumber which I accidentally gave in to at midnight. I just didn't feel right that I just sat there and ponder upon my thoughts and not letting you all know about it, thus resulted in me typing this post on my phone last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't read it, it doesn't really matter anyway, coz' hey, why would you wanna listen to a jerk rambling about his life right. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Same old brand new you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1446290253416238861?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1446290253416238861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1446290253416238861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1446290253416238861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1446290253416238861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-am-jerk.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7252644514057889221</id><published>2008-05-02T22:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T22:20:00.611+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird dreams have been haunting me lately. Strange enough, I myself find it difficult to comprehend why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since I've been having these kinda dreams, oh well, what comes must go some time right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize sometimes I tend to drift away into my own little world more often than I should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a massage just now, and yeah, I wandered to "Thoughts Central" where I sort of like looked over things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I tend to over-think things, and in which isn't for my own good I guess. Sudden rush of everything sometimes really just hits you real hard and makes you pause for a moment in your life, just like having a sugar rush to your brain after too much intake of glucose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall, try not to have weird dreams anymore, hopefully. But I'm having weird feelings now. Hmm. I shall be gone now. Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*When I look to the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7252644514057889221?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7252644514057889221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7252644514057889221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7252644514057889221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7252644514057889221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-weird-dreams-have-been-haunting-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2253413456843974701</id><published>2008-05-01T18:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T18:45:01.245+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasted my afternoon stoning and watching Relative Strangers. I think it's a nice show, with quite a nice storyline. Very well, not the typical and obvious plot I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Neve Campbell looks really pretty in the show. She plays Ellen, and yeah, well, the love story of Ellen and Richard is well, simply lovely. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to stop having weird dreams. And I do not have internal conflict. Hehe. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I shall end here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just realized the beginning of every 'Enter' starts with "I". Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Quoted from the movie, "If you truly love someone, you accept them for whoever they are". Aww. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2253413456843974701?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2253413456843974701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2253413456843974701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2253413456843974701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2253413456843974701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-i-wasted-my-afternoon-stoning-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2690710879002631883</id><published>2008-05-01T18:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T18:40:02.226+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class. Stone. Paper plates. Ice-cream. Family Guy. Basketball. Shower. Barbeque. Walk. Cuddles. Sleep. Weird dream. Baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much sums up my day yesterday. Love you baby &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Coz' it's you and me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2690710879002631883?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2690710879002631883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2690710879002631883&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2690710879002631883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2690710879002631883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/05/ken-class.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8646780860949152185</id><published>2008-04-29T21:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T21:25:39.439+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;a href="http://joeleejl.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jun Lin's blog&lt;/a&gt; has this personality test, in which is worth some $100. Yes, real money people. So head on over to go see what you really are and share it with everyone else aite? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go read up how it works, it's well-explained and easy to follow. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as it turns out, I'm an ENFP. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#0000a0;"&gt;ENFP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#0000a0;"&gt;Enthusiastic, idealistic, and creative.  Able to do almost anything that interests them.  Great people skills.  Need to live life in accordance with their inner values.  Excited by new ideas, but bored with details. Open-minded and flexible, with a broad range of interests and abilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#0000a0;"&gt;ENFPs take their relationships very seriously, but also approach them with a childlike enthusiasm and energy.  They seek and demand authenticity and depth in their personal relationships, and will put forth a lot of effort into making things work out.  They are warm, considerate, affirming, nurturing, and highly invested in the health of the relationship.  They have excellent interpersonal skills, and are able to inspire and motivate others to be the best that they can be.   Energetic and effervescent, the ENFP is sometimes smothering in their enthusiasm, but are generally highly valued for their genuine warmth and high ideals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can check out other stuff such as relationships and career matchings at the icons at the top and bottom after you have seen the answer at the personality test link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Breaking all the rules when we get together, anything at all are you ready to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8646780860949152185?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8646780860949152185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8646780860949152185&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8646780860949152185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8646780860949152185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-so-jun-lins-blog-has-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7204674016210147954</id><published>2008-04-29T19:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T19:12:16.493+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SAM officially sucks. If you plan to take SAM at Taylor's, damn hell DO NOT take double Maths. It's a killer, seriously. It'll only make your TER decrease tremendously, no joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I failed 3 tests out of 4. I guess sleeping on the day before the tests really has its negative effects. Although Chemistry was a breeze that's why I managed to score, but the other 3 really just more or less can be compared to sitting for SPM without reading a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for the mid-term break to clear everything. Though right before the break is the mid-term paper. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep in the afternoons anymore, and I don't know why. But I slept at 8pm yesterday, hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to be getting hungry a tad bit too easy these few days. Too much acidity in the stomach I guess. Oh well, time to find some food. Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Quoted from scribbles on a table in class C24, "The really smart ones don't need to study".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7204674016210147954?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7204674016210147954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7204674016210147954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7204674016210147954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7204674016210147954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-sam-officially-sucks.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2662875648260251488</id><published>2008-04-27T23:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T23:16:24.389+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to thank Sir Isaac Newton, Socrates, Aristotle, Archimedes, Hippocrates and other mathsphysicsnumbersequationsformulastheorieslawstheorem people for making my life a living hell. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kthxbai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*My mind is spinning round and round, there's something special I have found. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2662875648260251488?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2662875648260251488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2662875648260251488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2662875648260251488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2662875648260251488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-i-would-like-to-thank-sir-isaac.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5149449223561753847</id><published>2008-04-27T21:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T22:04:33.706+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was a Friday night, and that only means one thing right? Telawi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, I hate Telawi. Lol. Anyways, I headed over to my uncle's birthday celebration at...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqVG4IOI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/7uJ59I-UX_E/s1600-h/DSC08605.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqVG4IOI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/7uJ59I-UX_E/s320/DSC08605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193922133020385506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yeah, somewhere near Bangsar Village. Same row as Fukuya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqVG4IPI/AAAAAAAAA2g/giyEvDGmxPU/s1600-h/DSC08602.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqVG4IPI/AAAAAAAAA2g/giyEvDGmxPU/s320/DSC08602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193922133020385522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then after dinner was the drinking session. In which I slept after drinking some chivas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesh, I was damn tired and they made me drink. They as in my family, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after waking up, champagne, wth. Anyways, in other unrelated news, let me show you Silly Tilly the Tortoise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqlG4IQI/AAAAAAAAA2o/-roH5UEbhEM/s1600-h/DSC08607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqlG4IQI/AAAAAAAAA2o/-roH5UEbhEM/s320/DSC08607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193922137315352834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesh, this is Silly Tilly the Tortoise now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEK1G4III/AAAAAAAAA1o/K8qmCdm1ADI/s1600-h/DSC08617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEK1G4III/AAAAAAAAA1o/K8qmCdm1ADI/s320/DSC08617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193921591854506114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Since he doesn't have a friend, I'm forced to stone with it. Yeah, like that, every day, every night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So baby and I were at Pyramid for lunch today. So we decided to get Silly Tilly a friend, since we always forget to take it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELFG4IJI/AAAAAAAAA1w/ReHtl3DbAgI/s1600-h/DSC08620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELFG4IJI/AAAAAAAAA1w/ReHtl3DbAgI/s320/DSC08620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193921596149473426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And after many unsuccessful trips in and out of stores selling soft toys, we finally came across this red thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELVG4IKI/AAAAAAAAA14/exVOXj2aXvk/s1600-h/DSC08618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELVG4IKI/AAAAAAAAA14/exVOXj2aXvk/s320/DSC08618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193921600444440738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this red thing being Patrick. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELlG4ILI/AAAAAAAAA2A/Yd0gKLWcnc4/s1600-h/DSC08619.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELlG4ILI/AAAAAAAAA2A/Yd0gKLWcnc4/s320/DSC08619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193921604739408050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So now Silly Tilly and Patrick are friends. Although Silly Tilly scratched Patrick's left nose. = =&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELlG4IMI/AAAAAAAAA2I/BWkBCzDKpm0/s1600-h/DSC08622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSELlG4IMI/AAAAAAAAA2I/BWkBCzDKpm0/s320/DSC08622.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193921604739408066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this is how they spend their time together. No idea what they are doing actually. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, that sums up this post I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maths time. Tata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*It's in the way that you move me, and the way that you tease me, the way that I want you tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5149449223561753847?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5149449223561753847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5149449223561753847&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5149449223561753847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5149449223561753847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-so-it-was-friday-night-and-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SBSEqVG4IOI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/7uJ59I-UX_E/s72-c/DSC08605.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-5523178078174588623</id><published>2008-04-26T19:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T19:40:10.059+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't want steal chicken skin laaa&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aww. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Love is all that I need, and I found it there in your heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-5523178078174588623?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/5523178078174588623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=5523178078174588623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5523178078174588623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/5523178078174588623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-dont-want-steal-chicken-skin-laaa.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8465010838753510913</id><published>2008-04-26T13:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T13:38:50.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that SAM is a really bad thing, coz' it deprives me from my rest and sleep. Yesh, sleep and rest is really important to me. I mean who likes being deprived of sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my eye bags are seriously getting worse. It's as if someone punched me in both eyes. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently addicted to Wilber Pan's Bu De Bu Ai. I think the chorus is very the nice, and very pleasant for the ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just watched Pursuit of Happiness, and yeah, I think it's a great movie, aside from the fact that it was Will Smith who acted in it. Omg, I'm not using fullstops again. Erm, yeah as I was saying, it's a great movie and the fact that it was based on a true story makes it even more an epic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since I actually played futsal. Hopefully there aren't any cancellations later. My goal tally of like 138goals in 17games(okay, I might have lost count after the 17th game, but I can't possibly keep track of every goal I've scored, hmm) seems to be never increasing since I haven't actually gone on court for about 2months now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which also means that I haven't wore my Man Utd jersey for about 2months now, and that's sad. I've had every jersey since the 01-02 season up to date. Lalala. Though some of them are too small to be worn now, but it's a collection yo. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will update later, hopefully. Time to catch up on the latest PriDe matches. Ciaoz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*There's an angel on my shoulder here tonight, making sure that I'm alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8465010838753510913?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8465010838753510913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8465010838753510913&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8465010838753510913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8465010838753510913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-i-realize-that-sam-is-really-bad.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7302000502189309533</id><published>2008-04-24T19:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T20:00:10.003+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to sleep in the afternoon again. Yays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meaning there's a possibility of me staying up late night again and not sleeping. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I thought Physics today was a tad bit easier than expected, though every time I think that way it ends up as being a bad thing. Hmm =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby and I went to Haagen Dazs again, in which where I think now we're regular customers although we've only been there 4times. It seemed like more! Even the last time we went there the guy said "Welcome back". See see. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, Silly Tilly is somehow still stuck with me. And despite my constant care and attention, IT still has a cut on its head, a distorted arm, a cherry stain on its top, and an obsessively fat stomach now. Yes, IT. And IT is not named *you know what*. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess baby is right when she said IT is gonna die soon. Hmm, it's all the..the.. &lt;strike&gt;Man/Black Stone&lt;/strike&gt; Min Ray's fault. I know you won't be reading coz' you never do read, so it is your damn fault Min Ray. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time for dinner now. I need more sleep~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7302000502189309533?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7302000502189309533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7302000502189309533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7302000502189309533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7302000502189309533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-i-managed-to-sleep-in-afternoon.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7760716631408173348</id><published>2008-04-23T22:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T22:16:08.912+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sniffles. Forgot to add. I didn't wear green on Earth Day. Sad. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, just another 365days more till the next Earth Day. Lalala~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Summer's ended and without a trace, time goes by while you remain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7760716631408173348?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7760716631408173348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7760716631408173348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7760716631408173348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7760716631408173348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-sniffles.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3434248206907335144</id><published>2008-04-23T21:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T21:52:59.791+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I seem to be a very narcissistic person (not like I didn't know earlier). After some stoning after dinner, I went to wash my hands. I looked myself in the mirror and I thought I looked pretty good (yeah la, I know I damn perasan, sue me, pfft).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after I went to the living room I just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;had to&lt;/span&gt; walk back to stare at myself again. Omg la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, I ended up going to the mirror 4times just to look at myself. Vain much *O*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Study time now. Mirrors, stay away &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;please&lt;/span&gt;. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*You make me wanna call you in the middle of the night, you make me wanna hold you till the morning light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3434248206907335144?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3434248206907335144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3434248206907335144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3434248206907335144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3434248206907335144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-i-realize-i-seem-to-be-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-6165979351284156016</id><published>2008-04-23T18:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T18:12:44.784+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's saddening to live in a country where the level of manners and wiseness deteriorates every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character A: Since he's having so much to cope with now, let me add to that.&lt;br /&gt;Character B: Saddist.&lt;br /&gt;Character A: Why sad for him wor? He can handle it la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk tsk. First, it's sadist, spelled with a single 'd'. And yeah, it does NOT mean sad. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young Malaysians nowadays need a change, they need to get out more often and see the world. And yeah, they really ought to spend less time on the Internet. I mean the 1337 way of talking and 'ah beng-ness' is spreading everywhere now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, Physics test tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ion thrusters, solar sail, photocopier, lambda, Newton's laws of motion, electrons, 9x10^9... wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coke&lt;/span&gt;. Yesh, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coke&lt;/span&gt;. Haha. But then baby said it's bad to drink &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coke&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coke&lt;/span&gt; is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's why we shall drink more &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coke&lt;/span&gt;. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*I don't know how you do what you do, I'm so in love with you. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-6165979351284156016?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/6165979351284156016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=6165979351284156016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6165979351284156016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/6165979351284156016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-its-saddening-to-live-in-country.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-634201221786364427</id><published>2008-04-21T20:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T20:19:10.447+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only got time for a short update, gonna go sleep again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I just realized that I am a rather wasted person. I can do things many people can't, but then I never seem to utilize that given ability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I laze more often than anyone else I know and yeah, I don't always use everything I am capable of to do things, as I pretty much know that I would be better than many people, hence leads to the door of not focusing at the matter at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesh, I failed my Specialist Maths, again. No thanks to sleeping the whole night before the test after writing one number on the piece of paper I was supposed to do revision on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least baby did well and passed. Told you won't fail. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, gonna take a short nap now before staying up the whole night again. And I have to drive to college tomorrow, pfft. Yay, zombie on the road tomorrow at 6.30am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Dancing in the dark, in the middle of the night; taking your heart, holding it tight. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-634201221786364427?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/634201221786364427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=634201221786364427&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/634201221786364427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/634201221786364427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-only-got-time-for-short-update.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7790946190211791918</id><published>2008-04-20T20:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T21:01:38.853+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sneezing once every 20-30secs. I need water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*You're on my heart just like a tattoo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7790946190211791918?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7790946190211791918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7790946190211791918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7790946190211791918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7790946190211791918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-i-have-flu.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4440812302635809336</id><published>2008-04-20T17:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T18:08:14.706+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's raining again, pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is utmost frustrating. Oh well, the more reason to get some rest. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I figured out why I couldn't change my blog layout. Coz the damn thing I was trying to change to cannot be used on blogspot. Grrr. &gt;=(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been eating a lot lately, so much for my so called diet. How la like this?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acoustic songs are always nice to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Mao: I would like to see both sandbags fighting each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Mao: It would be fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Mao: Both keep absorb till burst, damn fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Me: HAHAHA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omg la, why am I so lame. @_@&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*You shone the light of love on me, and gave me air so I can breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4440812302635809336?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4440812302635809336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4440812302635809336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4440812302635809336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4440812302635809336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-ive-been-eating-lot-lately-so-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-2220168475142103481</id><published>2008-04-19T14:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T14:37:13.802+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday wasn't just any other yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coz' yesterday is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yesterday,&lt;/span&gt; not yesterday to me. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe, thanks to my darling. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, futsal cancelled, and that's sad, meaning no exercise, AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I'm glad that everything is okay now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, I'm no more floating in the middle of the sea anymore. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a receipt from Haagen-Dazs which says "This is not a valid receipt". They're giving customers fake receipts? @_@&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*When I'm all alone with the stars above, you are the one I love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-2220168475142103481?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/2220168475142103481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=2220168475142103481&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2220168475142103481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/2220168475142103481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-yesterday-wasnt-just-any-other.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-1196311404658666697</id><published>2008-04-17T22:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T22:57:45.157+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al.kenes.Carb.ox.yl.ic.ac.id.Es.ter. Am.ino.ac.id.Di.po.les.Hy.dr.og.en.bo.nd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chemistry is much easy when you stone and sleep. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*You will learn to begin, to trust the voice within.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-1196311404658666697?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/1196311404658666697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=1196311404658666697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1196311404658666697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/1196311404658666697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-al.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7718204419631447834</id><published>2008-04-17T02:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T02:39:35.535+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 2.40am now, and I'm officially finished with my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot a minor detail just now, hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, time to do a lil Maths and then head on to some Chemistry reading. Sighs, this is much worse than assignment rush. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Is there some place far away, some place where all is clear?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7718204419631447834?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7718204419631447834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7718204419631447834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7718204419631447834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7718204419631447834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-its-2.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-506730935869788264</id><published>2008-04-17T01:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T01:08:45.410+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually done with my stuff earlier than expected. It's now 1a.m. . Guess I didn't take too long to think of what to do and how to do it, bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to do some hw before actually retiring to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smell of smoke, wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*I've only got you inside my mind, you know you have made me blind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-506730935869788264?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/506730935869788264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=506730935869788264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/506730935869788264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/506730935869788264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-im-actually-done-with-my-stuff.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-3820627959481777498</id><published>2008-04-16T21:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T21:32:38.162+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seconds feel like hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hours feel like days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days feel like months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And months seem like an eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Traffic jam when you're already late, a no smoking sign on your cigarette break. Isn't it ironic, don't you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-3820627959481777498?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/3820627959481777498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=3820627959481777498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3820627959481777498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/3820627959481777498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-seconds-feel-like-hours.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7780442799409707822</id><published>2008-04-15T22:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T22:09:32.175+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today we were supposed to go home early, as in right after college. We as in me and Lai. But then this hindered us from doing so. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JIi04OI/AAAAAAAAA1A/TnSQo1eZMgM/s1600-h/DSC08592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JIi04OI/AAAAAAAAA1A/TnSQo1eZMgM/s320/DSC08592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189471839154659554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, double park. @(#)*$@&amp;amp;$*@&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JYi04PI/AAAAAAAAA1I/TFnvKVm0hcA/s1600-h/DSC08594.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JYi04PI/AAAAAAAAA1I/TFnvKVm0hcA/s320/DSC08594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189471843449626866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lai examining the car or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JYi04QI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/VGnGL3Dbz7g/s1600-h/DSC08593.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JYi04QI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/VGnGL3Dbz7g/s320/DSC08593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189471843449626882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A very frustrated Lai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, we ended up going to visit Ho at FTZ, in which I was then forced to play as Ho had to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess 2weeks of no DotA doesn't affect me much, and indulging in competitive gaming always is a step higher than pub games. Lalala~ =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we left at 4.30pm, and the car was still there. So it was like $*@*($&amp;amp;@Y#(@^# again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we sat in the car and Lai was like creating noise pollution with his honk, till every passerby was like stoned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After like 10minutes the guy came down, apparently he was working in a nearby shop. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's about it for today I guess. I need a good night's sleep! Grr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7780442799409707822?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7780442799409707822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7780442799409707822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7780442799409707822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7780442799409707822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-so-today-we-were-supposed-to-go.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SAS1JIi04OI/AAAAAAAAA1A/TnSQo1eZMgM/s72-c/DSC08592.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-8717322617395882801</id><published>2008-04-15T21:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T21:37:31.941+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how you look at yourself sometimes and think how retarded you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, but sometimes I feel that way. Okay, that was totally random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I managed to convince my mum to let me stay in the new house before everything actually arrives there. Though I definitely need a car, internet connection, and a bed. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the bed frame is there already, with the closet done, air cond fixed in, and electricity and water supply going fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's even a cute black and white cat, who's a mother of four kittens living there. Though haven't been seeing them around since last week, hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, it could be pretty boring staying there alone and I have no idea what am I gonna eat for dinner. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there isn't going to be a television set till my parents move in, omg la. How to stay up late at night you tell me. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully everything will be done by the end of next month, though I doubt it will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to try to study now. Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Like a river flows to the sea, so it goes, some things are meant to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-8717322617395882801?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/8717322617395882801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=8717322617395882801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8717322617395882801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/8717322617395882801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-its-funny-how-you-look-at-yourself.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-632557077327862034</id><published>2008-04-14T19:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T19:21:04.686+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In life, all it takes is one moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can change everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can tell between life and death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can tell between happiness and sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can tell between the truth and deception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can tell between this and that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can tell between you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One moment can tell between everything or nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually enjoy these moments, coz' I either stare at them and wave goodbye or I wait for the right time to embrace them in the best possible way I can or desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For at the end of the day, I guess it is that moment that matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Give a little bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-632557077327862034?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/632557077327862034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=632557077327862034&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/632557077327862034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/632557077327862034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-in-life-all-it-takes-is-one-moment.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7433808522184181845</id><published>2008-04-14T03:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T03:34:08.863+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now 4am in the morning. I am awake. I am stoned. I just finished my Chemistry assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kthxbai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Everything I do, is only to get tangled up in you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7433808522184181845?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7433808522184181845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7433808522184181845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7433808522184181845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7433808522184181845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-it-is-now-4am-in-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4744015946842550509</id><published>2008-04-13T11:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T12:02:23.169+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be 12. I haven't studied for my Specialist Maths test on Tuesday, and I'm pretty much stoning instead of typing out my Chemistry assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to watch VP against SK's replays right now, but then my guilty conscious will be ringing a bell every few minutes to remind me that I still have work to complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I guess it's time to get the feel of assignment rushing again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, there isn't a mistake on my blog. I removed my chatterbox. I'm pretty much lazy to actually type anything there, and it would be rude if I don't reply my readers, so might as well take it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll try to work on the layout soon, hopefully later in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okays, time to shower and start &lt;strike&gt;watching replays&lt;/strike&gt; doing my work. Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Coz' I can't breathe, no I can't sleep, I'm barely hanging on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4744015946842550509?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4744015946842550509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4744015946842550509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4744015946842550509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4744015946842550509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-its-going-to-be-12.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-53526045029742359</id><published>2008-04-12T18:58:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T22:10:25.169+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After browsing through my picture files for February, March and April, this is what I could find about my class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And voila, we'll start off with :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgo90ofqI/AAAAAAAAA0E/5Z0iMX_yoes/s1600-h/DSC08214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgo90ofqI/AAAAAAAAA0E/5Z0iMX_yoes/s320/DSC08214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188323396381343394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what my class does in between subjects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgpN0ofrI/AAAAAAAAA0M/-tcJo6N2SjI/s1600-h/DSC08459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgpN0ofrI/AAAAAAAAA0M/-tcJo6N2SjI/s320/DSC08459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188323400676310706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;L-R | Zhi Wei, Guan Ching, Lai and Ho. I can't believe Ho is doing a peace sign. Lol. &gt;=D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgpt0ofsI/AAAAAAAAA0U/thh2N470Wpk/s1600-h/DSC08212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgpt0ofsI/AAAAAAAAA0U/thh2N470Wpk/s320/DSC08212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188323409266245314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What my class looks when everyone is lepak-ing outside. With only Yu Man, Leon, Sing Chung, Vincent and Qin Yan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgqN0oftI/AAAAAAAAA0c/fy181i0cfos/s1600-h/DSC08236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgqN0oftI/AAAAAAAAA0c/fy181i0cfos/s320/DSC08236.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188323417856179922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My Maths teacher, Mrs. Lim. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgqd0ofuI/AAAAAAAAA0k/8RUBCGGcDTQ/s1600-h/DSC08205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgqd0ofuI/AAAAAAAAA0k/8RUBCGGcDTQ/s320/DSC08205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188323422151147234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And my Chemistry teacher, Ms. Tan, who's class we always come late for since it's right after the break. Haha. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe8t0oflI/AAAAAAAAAzc/TDW6DiOyOcg/s1600-h/DSC08523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe8t0oflI/AAAAAAAAAzc/TDW6DiOyOcg/s320/DSC08523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188321536660504146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Meet Miss Tham Sook Yan, who has 5birthday cakes in the course of 5days for her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe8t0ofmI/AAAAAAAAAzk/dmblV-cLp78/s1600-h/DSC08485.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe8t0ofmI/AAAAAAAAAzk/dmblV-cLp78/s320/DSC08485.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188321536660504162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;During SAM Fiesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe8t0ofnI/AAAAAAAAAzs/WzrsS82eYas/s1600-h/DSC08554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe8t0ofnI/AAAAAAAAAzs/WzrsS82eYas/s320/DSC08554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188321536660504178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blowing her birthday cake at Planet Hollywood, yes, from that far. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe890ofoI/AAAAAAAAAz0/KghxoyRO4mk/s1600-h/DSC08549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe890ofoI/AAAAAAAAAz0/KghxoyRO4mk/s320/DSC08549.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188321540955471490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And Miss Lee Shu Fen. Her favorite line, "Please la". Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe9N0ofpI/AAAAAAAAAz8/nACdbR8AYys/s1600-h/DSC08480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACe9N0ofpI/AAAAAAAAAz8/nACdbR8AYys/s320/DSC08480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188321545250438802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the dance floor at the SAM Fiesta, with sandbag and someone else's head in between. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMd0ofgI/AAAAAAAAAy0/PfTp9jH2nZE/s1600-h/DSC08531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMd0ofgI/AAAAAAAAAy0/PfTp9jH2nZE/s320/DSC08531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188319608220188162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The only pic I have of Shao Hern is him with this pose playing pool, wth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMd0ofhI/AAAAAAAAAy8/SIXJVpk1AJo/s1600-h/DSC08542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMd0ofhI/AAAAAAAAAy8/SIXJVpk1AJo/s320/DSC08542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188319608220188178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And the comedian of the class, Mr. Hou Chia Sern. What would S10 be without you? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMt0ofiI/AAAAAAAAAzE/-ZFwGYHNDns/s1600-h/DSC08455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMt0ofiI/AAAAAAAAAzE/-ZFwGYHNDns/s320/DSC08455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188319612515155490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With Ee Shan, Lai and Zhi Wei in the pic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMt0ofjI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Xup1Jj-WrWA/s1600-h/DSC08496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdMt0ofjI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Xup1Jj-WrWA/s320/DSC08496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188319612515155506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chia Sern on stage. He's a killer on the dance floor. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdM90ofkI/AAAAAAAAAzU/g9N6Z09VUFg/s1600-h/DSC08533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACdM90ofkI/AAAAAAAAAzU/g9N6Z09VUFg/s320/DSC08533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188319616810122818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Raymond. Yes, only Raymond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbW90ofbI/AAAAAAAAAyM/aa5mvdvZW5s/s1600-h/DSC08525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbW90ofbI/AAAAAAAAAyM/aa5mvdvZW5s/s320/DSC08525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188317589585558962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His favorite game I guess, pool. Oh well, he's good at it so nvm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbW90ofcI/AAAAAAAAAyU/31cDJ1Vuwi0/s1600-h/DSC08213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbW90ofcI/AAAAAAAAAyU/31cDJ1Vuwi0/s320/DSC08213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188317589585558978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Without glasses, haha. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbXN0ofdI/AAAAAAAAAyc/5OU8UCW2Kpc/s1600-h/DSC08219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbXN0ofdI/AAAAAAAAAyc/5OU8UCW2Kpc/s320/DSC08219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188317593880526290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this is | L-R | Jian Wen, Kanesan and Zhi Wei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbXd0ofeI/AAAAAAAAAyk/WGUgwMmUm6s/s1600-h/DSC08226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbXd0ofeI/AAAAAAAAAyk/WGUgwMmUm6s/s320/DSC08226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188317598175493602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Meet &lt;strike&gt;Sandbag&lt;/strike&gt; Tan Zhi Wei. Lol. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbXd0offI/AAAAAAAAAys/gGjo_UBOrP4/s1600-h/DSC08582.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACbXd0offI/AAAAAAAAAys/gGjo_UBOrP4/s320/DSC08582.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188317598175493618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With Wei Yao and Jian Wen in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaPt0ofWI/AAAAAAAAAxk/AwE8vUBGJJc/s1600-h/DSC08494.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaPt0ofWI/AAAAAAAAAxk/AwE8vUBGJJc/s320/DSC08494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188316365519879522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me and Zhi Wei, wth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaP90ofXI/AAAAAAAAAxs/MQvzEPiiTWI/s1600-h/DSC08464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaP90ofXI/AAAAAAAAAxs/MQvzEPiiTWI/s320/DSC08464.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188316369814846834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, him, sandbag, Tan, Zhi, Wei, at, SAM, Fiesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaQN0ofYI/AAAAAAAAAx0/B078TIuiOfo/s1600-h/DSC08477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaQN0ofYI/AAAAAAAAAx0/B078TIuiOfo/s320/DSC08477.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188316374109814146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dancing the Zhi Wei style. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaQN0ofZI/AAAAAAAAAx8/LrCqQ8DET5A/s1600-h/DSC08483.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaQN0ofZI/AAAAAAAAAx8/LrCqQ8DET5A/s320/DSC08483.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188316374109814162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, all hail Master Zhi Wei. = =&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaQd0ofaI/AAAAAAAAAyE/Zl8FI8mnv4o/s1600-h/DSC08487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACaQd0ofaI/AAAAAAAAAyE/Zl8FI8mnv4o/s320/DSC08487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188316378404781474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, enough of you. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZod0ofRI/AAAAAAAAAw8/QXS48ATdThI/s1600-h/DSC08211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZod0ofRI/AAAAAAAAAw8/QXS48ATdThI/s320/DSC08211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315691210013970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this is my class representative, Ben. With GFH and Paris Hilton in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZot0ofSI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Uo4nnJF1ZyI/s1600-h/DSC08208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZot0ofSI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Uo4nnJF1ZyI/s320/DSC08208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315695504981282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Candid pics are always nice. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZot0ofTI/AAAAAAAAAxM/r1Hr5tzJhUE/s1600-h/DSC08456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZot0ofTI/AAAAAAAAAxM/r1Hr5tzJhUE/s320/DSC08456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315695504981298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ben at SAM Fiesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZot0ofUI/AAAAAAAAAxU/cRDHPmFhxDU/s1600-h/DSC08453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZot0ofUI/AAAAAAAAAxU/cRDHPmFhxDU/s320/DSC08453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315695504981314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And the genius of the class, Sing Chung. Doesn't every class have one? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZo90ofVI/AAAAAAAAAxc/yr2-KJqa3Ss/s1600-h/DSC08467.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZo90ofVI/AAAAAAAAAxc/yr2-KJqa3Ss/s320/DSC08467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315699799948626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;L-R | Qin Yan, Yik Jun and Raymond. With Yik Jun gone to SEGi college now, good luck. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPN0ofMI/AAAAAAAAAwU/u79BX9yo5YQ/s1600-h/DSC08229.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPN0ofMI/AAAAAAAAAwU/u79BX9yo5YQ/s320/DSC08229.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315257418316994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And now meet Mr. Ho. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPd0ofNI/AAAAAAAAAwc/U22CxXMlzF4/s1600-h/DSC08439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPd0ofNI/AAAAAAAAAwc/U22CxXMlzF4/s320/DSC08439.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315261713284306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His everyday routine. Haha, busted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPd0ofOI/AAAAAAAAAwk/hfxgrfk0Hs0/s1600-h/DSC08242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPd0ofOI/AAAAAAAAAwk/hfxgrfk0Hs0/s320/DSC08242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315261713284322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And what he does best, eating. &gt;=D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPt0ofPI/AAAAAAAAAws/-gPaW6-4_bY/s1600-h/DSC08529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPt0ofPI/AAAAAAAAAws/-gPaW6-4_bY/s320/DSC08529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315266008251634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this is Lai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPt0ofQI/AAAAAAAAAw0/LBA5Nt4slEQ/s1600-h/DSC08233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACZPt0ofQI/AAAAAAAAAw0/LBA5Nt4slEQ/s320/DSC08233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188315266008251650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lai focusing during Maths class, if only he was like this now. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBN0ofHI/AAAAAAAAAvs/Oyl1xiwN9Wg/s1600-h/DSC08567.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBN0ofHI/AAAAAAAAAvs/Oyl1xiwN9Wg/s320/DSC08567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188313917388520562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Onion head&lt;/strike&gt; Ee Shan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBd0ofII/AAAAAAAAAv0/rwoiWqM0hRQ/s1600-h/DSC08543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBd0ofII/AAAAAAAAAv0/rwoiWqM0hRQ/s320/DSC08543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188313921683487874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A messy eater, nothing unusual there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBd0ofJI/AAAAAAAAAv8/tbRG2ElK5JU/s1600-h/DSC08566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBd0ofJI/AAAAAAAAAv8/tbRG2ElK5JU/s320/DSC08566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188313921683487890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What she always does during Physics class. Even I can't wake her up. Piggy. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBt0ofKI/AAAAAAAAAwE/bzCrLc2U2Eo/s1600-h/DSC08583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYBt0ofKI/AAAAAAAAAwE/bzCrLc2U2Eo/s320/DSC08583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188313925978455202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With her onion head pose. Hahaha. Quite cute what, very bad meh onion head pose? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, the whole class together now, pretty much the whole class :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYB90ofLI/AAAAAAAAAwM/AawYFYpXpsc/s1600-h/DSC08472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACYB90ofLI/AAAAAAAAAwM/AawYFYpXpsc/s320/DSC08472.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188313930273422514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the SAM Fiesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it from me, and that's my class, or at least half of it. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*I'll keep apart of you with me, and everywhere I am there you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-53526045029742359?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/53526045029742359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=53526045029742359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/53526045029742359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/53526045029742359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-after-browsing-through-my-picture.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zVO5sBAyfis/SACgo90ofqI/AAAAAAAAA0E/5Z0iMX_yoes/s72-c/DSC08214.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-4872469106017548230</id><published>2008-04-12T17:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T18:00:05.462+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Names'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up every single day with a new hope, with promise of things to turn out better, with dreams to maybe enjoy a day without disappointment and grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, hope never seems to exist, and the promise of things turning out well is crushed by unforeseen predicaments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One person's sadness, is another person's joy, and vice versa. Thus, leads to the never ending cycle of unhappiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, just one day to maybe turn out to be a happy day, is never, for every day is filled with the disappointments and sudden notions of sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I think too much, or maybe I hope a tad bit too much too. Oh well, life's like that I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Coz' I want it all, or nothing at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-4872469106017548230?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/4872469106017548230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=4872469106017548230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4872469106017548230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/4872469106017548230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-waking-up-every-single-day-with-new.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7152395640338732197</id><published>2008-04-11T21:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T21:36:08.866+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm deprived of pretty much everything. I haven't touched DotA for like 2weeks now, besides watching league games of course, coz' that ain't counted as playing. Besides that, I've only got 2hours sleep last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now lacking caffeine, in which I need to keep me awake tonight. And most importantly, I need more time to actually complete all my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life doesn't really get any more intricate than this. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I guess now it's time to switch back to the time of 2days before SPM where sleep is just another form of distraction, and late night hot Milo to keep me awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in the next post I'll post up pictures of the people in my class, not sure if I have all of them, but I guess it's sufficient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That should be interesting, maybe. Hmm, time to start exercising by playing footie in the living room. Anyone up for Sunday night to watch Man Utd's game? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*So if you wonder about the spell I'm under, it's your love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7152395640338732197?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7152395640338732197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7152395640338732197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7152395640338732197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7152395640338732197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-im-deprived-of-pretty-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7590924676292496815</id><published>2008-04-10T22:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T22:42:29.566+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighs, I'm guilty for all the wrong reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*All I can do is hope and pray, coz' heaven knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7590924676292496815?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7590924676292496815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7590924676292496815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7590924676292496815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7590924676292496815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-sighs-im-guilty-for-all-wrong.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6600206152023911731.post-7333539245906195751</id><published>2008-04-09T22:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T22:30:32.631+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all of you, it may seem that I've changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I'm becoming more and more of a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you know me well enough then you'll know who I am now, but then since none of you do, then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM A JERK TO YOU&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't give no damn no more, coz' I've got so much up in my mind that I wake up every one hour during my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got LAN assignment due Friday, Chemistry due Monday, ESL draft due Friday, Specialist Maths test on Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just to add to the never ending list of worries and thoughts, and assumptions that are up there in my mind. I know what are my priorities, and if it means that I'm being a jerk, so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coz' I'm definitely not wanting to let these doors pass me by without opening them, nor do I want to waste 19k or a year just by flunking my papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know me well enough, I don't study. I don't read books. I don't take down notes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT I do know what I'm doing. For if I don't, you'll probably see me retaking SPM by now. I mean who waits till 2days before SPM and only actually starts reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, I know my priorities, sometimes, I just don't tell them to people, I don't show what I want, but in truth, I just wish all of you knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I LIKE TO THINK&lt;/span&gt;. That's why when you all think that I've got better things to do, I don't. I do things that are therapeutic, and that'll keep my mind relaxed, coz' if I don't, I'd prolly die due to using up all my brain cells now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stone, that's a known fact, but I find it therapeutic looking at the simple things in life, wondering about life's simplicities. If you think that is wrong, then by all means, again, call me a jerk for stoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad, coz' being the jerk that I am, I'm at fault. I don't mind that, coz' if that's what you people think, then I can't possibly change that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I am that much of a jerk, then please, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TELL IT STRAIGHT TO MY FACE&lt;/span&gt;. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*But in the end, it doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6600206152023911731-7333539245906195751?l=neon-10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/feeds/7333539245906195751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6600206152023911731&amp;postID=7333539245906195751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7333539245906195751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6600206152023911731/posts/default/7333539245906195751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neon-10.blogspot.com/2008/04/ken-to-all-of-you-it-may-seem-that-ive.html' title=''/><author><name>Ken_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01753791740146620765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/62/34/18244326/277750729m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
