<?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-1975846349293395477</id><updated>2011-07-29T17:05:01.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>whee</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>88</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-4586912198161166243</id><published>2009-10-25T13:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T13:38:44.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's in the looks she doesnt receive anymore.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the indifference he treats her with these days.&lt;br /&gt;it's the impatience in his voice.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the decreasing points of contact between them.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the way she doesnt feel protected anymore.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the carelessness when speaking.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the lengths of silences.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the lack of refutation to her statement that there's no love anymore.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the lack of concern towards her feelings.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the selfishness of every action.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the lack of tenderness in his touch.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the lack of love in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the lack of gentleness in his questions.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the absence of love that makes the teasing malicious.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the purposefulness of words meant to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the disregard of her thoughts and tears.&lt;br /&gt;it's in the sense of obligation felt instead of a true desire to please.&lt;br /&gt;it's in everything.&lt;br /&gt;i guess this is goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-4586912198161166243?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/4586912198161166243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=4586912198161166243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4586912198161166243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4586912198161166243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-in-looks-she-doesnt-receive-anymore.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5640046057834913514</id><published>2009-10-04T09:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T09:45:16.647+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You can't hide shame with band aid,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot treat guilt with a pill,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot mend a heart with sellotape,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot fill a hole with a drill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't travel light ith an elephant,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot feel joy without pain,&lt;br /&gt;You can't make a fool intelligent,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot make a cripple lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cannot end wars without bleeding,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot use Braille without words,&lt;br /&gt;You can't forgive without healing,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot ignore what hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't have a soul without spirit,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot change what is,&lt;br /&gt;You cannot fail without merit,&lt;br /&gt;and You cannot kill what lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5640046057834913514?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5640046057834913514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5640046057834913514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5640046057834913514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5640046057834913514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-cant-hide-shame-with-band-aid-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-4796609975469599864</id><published>2009-08-30T00:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T01:03:18.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>even while i was out, i was thinking of things to do for you. even while i was having fun i was checking for messages from you but to no avail. i don't know what to do anymore. if a person doesnt care, he just doesnt. and there's nothing that i can do about it. so i'm taking a break. maybe time away will be better for both of us. things have changed you know. i can't say what has, but something for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the question is, *** ** **** *******? i dont want to voice it out. it makes the question seem more substantial, and i dont need that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while i was overseas, towards the end, you said you wanted me back, etc etc etc. well i'm back now. why is everything not the fairytale you promised? why has everything reverted back to the original again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-4796609975469599864?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/4796609975469599864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=4796609975469599864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4796609975469599864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4796609975469599864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/08/even-while-i-was-out-i-was-thinking-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7874483661002893854</id><published>2009-08-27T20:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T20:47:49.411+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>me being me, sometimes it's hard not having the same social circles and my imagination runs wild. sometimes the lack of interest or lack of effort made in trying to breach the gap between mine and yours gets to me. sometimes i know i'm constantly picking on someone but i don't know how to stop, cuz i can't stop feeling like that. help me my dear, please. teach me how. is it you whom i don't believe in, or is it myself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7874483661002893854?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7874483661002893854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7874483661002893854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7874483661002893854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7874483661002893854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/08/me-being-me-sometimes-its-hard-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-9015411769122920912</id><published>2009-08-15T23:52:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T23:55:14.285+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes life's just simpler when you shut yourself from the world. no noise. no msn, switch off your phone, just zero contact. you shut yourself from all the noise in your life. and everything becomes quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;met best friend today. didn't realize how much i've missed talking to her, we havent met for SO LONG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well. time to get down to work now. =/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-9015411769122920912?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/9015411769122920912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=9015411769122920912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/9015411769122920912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/9015411769122920912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/08/sometimes-lifes-just-simpler-when-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7836307475746165329</id><published>2009-08-15T10:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T10:47:27.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>boys like girls have really really nice songs. here's a medley of lyrics from a couple or more of their songs that really struck me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause all the roads they lead to where you are&lt;br /&gt;And all the streetlights shine like they were stars&lt;br /&gt;That's where you are&lt;br /&gt;Let's spend tonight on top of the world&lt;br /&gt;And we can do anything,&lt;br /&gt;We can be anything&lt;br /&gt;I'll meet you tonight on top of the world&lt;br /&gt;As real as it seems,&lt;br /&gt;You're only in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;I have to find a way&lt;br /&gt;To show you I care&lt;br /&gt;Even if you're not there&lt;br /&gt;So I'm following the road to where you are&lt;br /&gt;The streetlights they will guide me to the stars&lt;br /&gt;That's where you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's over, look out below&lt;br /&gt;and I'm wasted, I still taste it&lt;br /&gt;Yeah it's so hard to let go&lt;br /&gt;So breathe in now, and breathe it out&lt;br /&gt;The forecast; A car crash&lt;br /&gt;It's looking like another&lt;br /&gt;Breakdown, rebound&lt;br /&gt;This could be my last goodbye&lt;br /&gt;You crossed your heart, I hope to die&lt;br /&gt;And I can't deny your eyes&lt;br /&gt;You know I tried to read between the lines,&lt;br /&gt;I saw a warning sign&lt;br /&gt;And then you threw me up against the wall&lt;br /&gt;Who said that it's better to have loved and lost?&lt;br /&gt;I wish that I had never loved at all&lt;br /&gt;No rewinds, no second times&lt;br /&gt;I won't break, I won't waste&lt;br /&gt;Everything you left behind&lt;br /&gt;So don't follow, just let it go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn it up&lt;br /&gt;It's five minutes to midnight&lt;br /&gt;You're coming home with me tonigh&lt;br /&gt;tI can't get enough, shakin' me up&lt;br /&gt;Turn it up&lt;br /&gt;AlrightAt five minutes to midnight&lt;br /&gt;You see our name in city lights&lt;br /&gt;We'll make the clock stop&lt;br /&gt;Make your heart drop&lt;br /&gt;And come alive&lt;br /&gt;And when the clock strikes twelve&lt;br /&gt;Will you find another boy to&lt;br /&gt;Go and kiss and tell'&lt;br /&gt;Cause you know I never will&lt;br /&gt;I think we should strike a match&lt;br /&gt;And we'll hold it to the wind to&lt;br /&gt;See how long it lasts&lt;br /&gt;We can make the time stand still&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you be with him?&lt;br /&gt;Or was it just a lie?&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't GET you like I do&lt;br /&gt;And you don't know why&lt;br /&gt;You change your clothes and your hair&lt;br /&gt;But I can't change your mind&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm uninvited&lt;br /&gt;So unrequited now&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning to fall&lt;br /&gt;I can't hardly breathe&lt;br /&gt;when I'm going down don't worry 'bout me&lt;br /&gt;Don't try this at home&lt;br /&gt;Pretend you don't see&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to know that you know, it should have been me&lt;br /&gt;Words screaming in my head&lt;br /&gt;Why did you leave?&lt;br /&gt;And I can't stop dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Watching you and him&lt;br /&gt;When it should have been&lt;br /&gt;It should have been me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throw it away&lt;br /&gt;Forget yesterday&lt;br /&gt;We'll make the great escape&lt;br /&gt;We wont hear a word they say&lt;br /&gt;They don't know us anyway&lt;br /&gt;Watch it burn&lt;br /&gt;Let it die&lt;br /&gt;Cause we are finally free tonight&lt;br /&gt;Tonight will change our lives&lt;br /&gt;It's so good to be by your side&lt;br /&gt;We'll cryWe won't give up the fight&lt;br /&gt;We'll scream loud at the top of our lungs&lt;br /&gt;And they'll think its just cause were young&lt;br /&gt;And we'll feel so alive&lt;br /&gt;All of the wasted time&lt;br /&gt;The hours that were left behind me&lt;br /&gt;The answers that we'll never find&lt;br /&gt;They dont mean a thing tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a winding road&lt;br /&gt;Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know, whoa&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm on my own&lt;br /&gt;I cant move a muscle and I cant pick up the phone, I don't know&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm itching for the tall grass&lt;br /&gt;And longing for the breeze&lt;br /&gt;I need to step outside, just to see if I can breathe&lt;br /&gt;I gotta find a way out&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there's a way out&lt;br /&gt;Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer&lt;br /&gt;Do you know you're unlike any other?&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be my thunder, and I said&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna ever love another&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be my thunder&lt;br /&gt;So bring on the rain,&lt;br /&gt;And bring on the thunder.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'm walking on a tightrope&lt;br /&gt;I'm wrapped up in vines&lt;br /&gt;I think Ill make it out but you just gotta give me time&lt;br /&gt;Strike me down with lightning&lt;br /&gt;Let me feel you in my veins&lt;br /&gt;I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7836307475746165329?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7836307475746165329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7836307475746165329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7836307475746165329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7836307475746165329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/08/boys-like-girls-have-really-really-nice.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2992492050961171090</id><published>2009-08-14T23:05:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T01:11:39.678+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>more and more often recently, i've been feeling the clarity of life's passing footsteps. it's more clear to me now than ever before that every single thing that happens now will never happen again. every single emotion i feel now will never ever be reenacted in exactly the same way again. so many things are changing and i'm so painfully aware that these changes mean that NOTHING will ever be the same again. so many people have left NUS, or are away on exchange, or stuck in lab all the time, or SOMETHING. and somehow i feel lost in school. like there are just so few familiar faces. =( too few. and with all the people taking honours, i feel somehow like i'm missing something. i don't know. =( maybe i'm feeling like somehow everyone else has moved on to better more advanced things, but i'm still stuck, still at same stage, just taking modules, its like i'm experiencing stunted growth or something. argh. really dont know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2992492050961171090?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2992492050961171090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2992492050961171090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2992492050961171090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2992492050961171090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-and-more-often-recently-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1570050280627611190</id><published>2009-08-06T23:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:01:49.410+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>almost two months, seems like it just flew past without me knowing it. the time spent has been like a dream, so many things have happened, it seems so long yet so short. i've made friends, who may or may not last, but for the six weeks at least, these friendships were real. so short a time, but it seems as if so much experience has been packed inside. the experience that would follow me for a lifetime. the learning to be alone, live alone, cope with my fears, of everything, from the supernatural to the supposed danger of a girl living alone outside of home. the living together seven to a room, the fun, the laughter, the politics, the compromising, the sacrifices made, considerations for others. the extremely low prices haagen daaz and ben and jerrys, the grocery shopping, cooking for myself, cooking for others, cleaning up after myself, the coming and going, the feeling of being responsible only to myself, the sightseeing, the hthts, the feeling of missing home, then the feeling of not wanting to go home, the feeling of being locked out of house with noone to depend on, the shopping with abandon, the webcam sessions, the gossip sessions, mostly the freedom. but there are so many things i won't forget, cuz everything is so different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stan's donuts, the cookies, ralphs, loads of mexican food, yoghurtland, landfair and the eternal uphill climb, powell library, half an hour walks to to class that doesnt feel that long, pork rib soup, eggplant omelette, santa monica, bus 2, persian ice cream, ross - dress for less, las vegas, venetian, MGM (jz made us walk soooo far. in my bad mood somemore haha), the magaritas, the long talks, ucla, botany building, boelter, life science building, bunche, kherckhoff, ackermann, ucla store, chilli's, haagen daz, ben and jerry's, 408, westwood chateau, walmart (where i wanted to go but never did), coffee bean, starbucks, griffith observatory, jap am. museum, ronald reagan's medical center, the coliseum, popeye's, iHOP, greyhound, super8, krispy kremes, treasure island, orange julius, kate spade, burberry, etc etc etc. the list is endless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really miss the place and the feelings for the place, i guess in some ways i know nothing can ever be the same. whatever friendships and confidantes cultivated there and then, it can hardly survive when we get back here. over there, circumstances forced us together and we became friends, and there were many conflicts, but we really didnt have much choice, and in any case, when responsibilities are high, so do the tensions run just as high. but under those circumstances, we pulled together and pulled through. now that we're back, do they still hold, it seems as if everything has been but a dream and not real. 6 weeks was perhaps too short to invest in any real emotions beyond the superficial. this is not to say that everything was fake. it's just that perhaps what emotions we felt towards each other, what relationships we build was based alot on each person's need for someone to depend on. it was perhaps this very dependence that led to the formations of those friendships, and perhaps now the time is over, it seems they will die, or perhaps already are dying in the midst of all those old relationships we already had when we return here, and that have lasted way longer and through way more hard times. perhaps. it seems that in LA, because of the being forced together, the lack of choice, we made friends we may not have done if we were here. and it seems that upon our return, so we become strangers? a pity though. =( that after coming through it all, we fade to just friends, and prhaps eventualy hi-bye friends. it seems almost as though the time in LA had never been, perhaps it never did, maybe i lived through the looking glass for two months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another note, conversations and looking at facebook photos have made me miss my friends alot really. i think in the busy-ness of last sem and the summer overseas, i've not seen many of them for ages, and i've neglected friendships. maybe it's time to pick them up again. because i know i miss those people alot. and i hate that i've missed out on so much that's going on with people who were supposed to matter so much to me. =/ time to wake up amelia. i'm feeling nostalgic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some friends are going through hard times, and i hope they will get better soon. time heals all i suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i only wanted to say that i never meant to harm anyone and what happened, happened, i dunno why or how, but it did, and now perhaps someone is paying for the consequences of my actions. i'm sorry. please forgive me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1570050280627611190?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1570050280627611190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1570050280627611190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1570050280627611190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1570050280627611190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/08/almost-two-months-seems-like-it-just.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1655573815063963457</id><published>2009-05-11T00:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:36:36.558+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;You have a way of coming easily to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And when you take, you take the very best of me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I start a fight cause I need to feel something&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you do what you want cause I'm not what you wanted&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just walk away, no use defending words that you will never say&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've never been anywhere cold as you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I stood there loving you and wished them all away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1655573815063963457?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1655573815063963457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1655573815063963457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1655573815063963457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1655573815063963457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-have-way-of-coming-easily-to-me-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8893531628224843605</id><published>2009-05-05T11:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T11:12:48.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>running on empty. i'm tired. of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8893531628224843605?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8893531628224843605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8893531628224843605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8893531628224843605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8893531628224843605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/05/running-on-empty.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3907626890622281958</id><published>2009-04-06T12:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T13:03:30.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;your protective touch on the small of her back,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;your affectionate kiss on her cheek,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the hand holding moments while you drive,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the harmless banter that bears no malice,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the laughter shared over familiar jokes,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the littlest things you do to make her smile,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thank you baby, the magic's back. =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i love you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3907626890622281958?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3907626890622281958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3907626890622281958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3907626890622281958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3907626890622281958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/04/your-protective-touch-on-small-of-her.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1953954066841728782</id><published>2009-03-27T00:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T00:36:14.508+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tell me. is it disintegrating? into nothing-ness, dust, whatever u wanna call it. is it? has the magic gone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1953954066841728782?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1953954066841728782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1953954066841728782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1953954066841728782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1953954066841728782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/03/tell-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-4523197380776555205</id><published>2009-03-22T00:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T00:45:33.704+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes you get wound up wound up wound up, and then you get so tight you almost want to break with all the tension, and then suddenly something does break, and its then that you see the funny side of things? and you laugh, and its funny cuz everyone else is pissed and you're just laughing at how ridiculous it is, and they think you're mad? but it IS funny if you just step back. lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-4523197380776555205?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/4523197380776555205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=4523197380776555205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4523197380776555205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4523197380776555205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/03/sometimes-you-get-wound-up-wound-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5602782305586700262</id><published>2009-03-18T22:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T22:43:09.204+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>do you know that once some things have been said you cant turn back anymore. that nothing will ever be the same anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5602782305586700262?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5602782305586700262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5602782305586700262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5602782305586700262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5602782305586700262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/03/do-you-know-that-once-some-things-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1378051014846241011</id><published>2009-03-18T20:03:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T20:21:11.089+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>on infidelity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have heard of men, or mistresses of men, be it on programmes or third hand accounts, who claim it's not their fault they have affairs since their wives, once they become wives, don't make an effort any more to make themselves attractive. HA. how convenient an excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who is it who tells the women in beginning stages of their courtship that they would be loved forever, no matter what they become? who is it who tell the women they want to feed them fat, that they are too skinny? who is it who lulls the women into a false sense of security where they truly believe themselves to finally be safe, where they finally do feel that they can relax. who is it who tells the women they would look pretty to them no matter what? who is it who makes the women so complacent they let go of themselves in the first place? who is it who builds up the womens' expectations of them in a bid to impress those same women and lure them into their honeyed traps like a pitcher plant, and who is it who then devours them at will when they are truly and hopelessly entrapped and unable to escape, bound by their children, their shared history, their fear of not having anyone want them anymore, their misguided sense of loyalty? who is it who makes them fat, and then abandons them for losing their looks? who is it who panders to their every whim in the beginning, spoiling them, pampering them, causing them to become whiny women, and then later saying you are too whiny, please shut up? who is it who buys them bountiful gifts, but who is it who then claims the women spend too much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;besides which, men do let themselves go too. how many men can claim themselves to be as trim, as good looking, as youthful as they were at 17. men and women simply have different values and i do so hate people who say it's womens' fault for letting themselves go and forcing men into infidelity. its seriously dumb and warped and what have you, and it's just a coward's way out of justifying a supremely dumb act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;infidelity is infidelity is infidelity. no two ways about it. so shut up defending yourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1378051014846241011?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1378051014846241011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1378051014846241011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1378051014846241011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1378051014846241011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/03/on-infidelity.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-95988760159921705</id><published>2009-03-02T21:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T21:48:58.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>some days pass by in a blur and you don't know where all the time went. too much angst recently. it's getting me no where. it's time to let go and move on. and i will. i've decided to. =) you've seen the last of the emo me for awhile. sorry to all. if i've hurt you, sorry. i only say what i feel in my heart. but sorry anyway. if i've misunderstood any intentions i'm sorry too. as for you, i'm not sorry at all about what i said. cuz i dont think i'm wrong. and i still dont trust you. anyway it doesnt matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes you step out of a certain place and you feel a sudden rush of i-don't-know-what. sometimes you oddly feel very very nostalgic. sometimes i suddenly want to go home and just stay there. sometimes i want to just be embraced by you, like when i was young. but it doesnt seem possible anymore. i'm a little scared about this. give me strength.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-95988760159921705?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/95988760159921705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=95988760159921705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/95988760159921705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/95988760159921705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/03/some-days-pass-by-in-blur-and-you-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-128041435475465585</id><published>2009-03-02T00:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T21:43:40.195+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i give up explaining myself. i dont have to in the first place. after everything, you think i'm putting on an act? pretending to be sad? now it's even wrong for me to feel this way? you think i can stop myself? it's not even that i'm angry. i'm sad, but even that is wrong. i just wish everything will hurry and work out. and i know it will. and then time will tell. and i wont have to say anything anymore because the results will speak for themselves. i only want to prove you wrong ABOUT ME. no other reason. i only want to show you I CAN make it. that I WILL do what is right. even if you think i can't and i won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-128041435475465585?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/128041435475465585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=128041435475465585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/128041435475465585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/128041435475465585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-give-up-explaining-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1084164901242245234</id><published>2009-02-16T09:08:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T13:38:02.004+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>recently, life's been so busy i hardly have time to breathe, and i blame school. haha but complaints later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v day was two days ago, and it started off really early in the day while i cooked up a storm, that wasn't supposed to take 5 hours, but did. =/ how come all the recipes say preparation time is 30 minutes, when i can only manage to peel one potato in that time?? i swear it's not me. haha. after which i was picked up, and pleasantly surprised by the music (though it took me awhile to figure out, since i was wondering why he played chinese songs when he doesnt even like them), and had an idyllic time at upper pierce resevoir park, which was claimed by the dear one to be a secret place but turned out not so secret. haha honestly, where in singapore can you find a secret place? it's absolutely tiny, every nook and cranny is bound to be filled with people especially on a day like this when everyone wants some alone time with that loved one, away from the crowds. received presents that i know took some effort to get, especially with all the work piling, so thank you darling, i feel loved. =) and i have one more present being shipped here! haha i dont know what it is but i'm so excited. hahaha. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a less euphoric note, these things we celebrate, it's a kind of ritual, and contrary to being childish, it's a respite from the busy-ness of the lives we lead. where we take time away from everything to just 'celebrate love', quoting sam. because we can't do it everyday can we? we have other stuff to do. so days like this, they give you a valid excuse to take a little breather before carrying on with the stress and blah. and if it makes us happy, why not? to each his own. don't do things if they don't suit you, but you have no right whatsoever to fault people for what they like. it's just like i can't say reading comics is childish just cuz i don't do it. it doesn't make sense. you don't make sense anymore, so i shall close my ears to your ramblings and do as i wish. this paragraph is not so subtle, but maybe you know, you need to be woken up a little and stop hurting people close to you. and stop making sweeping statements or criticizing/judging people based on your unfounded beliefs and stands. everybody has a stand so what makes you think yours is the right one to take? you can't judge a book by it's cover. and if you don't know the full story, don't assume you do and judge people based on that assumption. don't assign people to pigeon holes they don't fit into. you classify us under an umbrella called 'singaporeans' and denounce our characteristics whether or not we have them. but there is an umbrella for the country you hail from as well. you want to defend your country's name, but at the same time claim that you don't have the traits of a typical (your country)-ian. so what are you trying to say? i can't tell cuz your head contradicts your tail. get your story straight. and if you wanna claim that not everybody fits under an umbrella, there will be parts that stick out. what makes you think that you only have the good traits of a X-ian and not the bad ones? what makes you think you are different from them? and if in truth, you really have managed to extract only the good traits and combine it with other good traits you have gained from your experiences, how would you know WE haven't? why do you still classify us under the generic singaporean with all bad traits entailed? AND not to mention how you were so insensitive to a friend in times of need. we all know that no matter what has previously occurred, for someone who is undergoing a crisis, the topmost priority is her/his needs. nobody throws a stone at an already injured bird. you've been heard to say 'are you dumb or what?' maybe in a joking manner, but some things are just not funny and some times are just not good times for jokes. and by being so supremely insensitive, i think, it's not your interlocutor who's dumb. it just might be you. it is childish to be dishonest, but it is also childish to be tactless. you ought to stop your nonsense while we can still take it. while it's not too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1084164901242245234?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1084164901242245234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1084164901242245234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1084164901242245234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1084164901242245234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/02/recently-lifes-been-so-busy-i-hardly.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7942597441346709195</id><published>2009-01-31T23:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T23:10:20.157+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's always hard to mediate. you try on both sides. you defend one person to the other. and you fight the other because of the first. you try to put it in such a way that both can accept each other. you dont tell the worst of the both. just so that, hopefully they will like each other and there will be peace. cuz you love them both and you want everything to work out. because they are both important to you. but ultimately, because of the things you dont tell, because of the things both dont see about the other, you are the one bearing the cost of it all. you become the one who is unreasonable, you become the one who is unfair, unfilial, unsatisfiable. in trying to protect them from each other's negatively coloured lenses, you fail to protect yourself. they see you through the negative lens instead. and there's nothing you can do. you build a web and you cant get out of the mess. you build a mess. so you have to live with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7942597441346709195?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7942597441346709195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7942597441346709195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7942597441346709195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7942597441346709195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-always-hard-to-mediate.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3366500499859977628</id><published>2009-01-28T20:02:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T01:36:19.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so this year's cny celebrations weren't quite as bad as i thought. it's been so long since we've had any semblance of fun on this particular holiday season. it has so far been ridden with the usual complains and unhappiness. this year was slightly better. the laughter wasn't quite so fake. like i thought, people seem to have mellowed pretty much. i wonder why? maybe the change lies in me and not them? i have no idea. in any case, i'm glad things turned out this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do you always have to choose unhappiness over joy? is it so hard for you to sit back, relax and enjoy your day? why do you only choose to look at the negative side of things? you had things you thought would go wrong. they went perfectly fine. so why can't you accept that and be happy with the outcome? why must you create negativity out of nothing at all? it's like you DON'T want to be happy. please. lighten up. i want you to be happy. life is short after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and. &lt;em&gt;i love you. &lt;/em&gt;despite evidence to the contrary sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3366500499859977628?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3366500499859977628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3366500499859977628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3366500499859977628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3366500499859977628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-this-years-cny-celebrations-werent.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3534294438286661915</id><published>2009-01-20T21:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T21:46:18.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it arose out of nothing at all, i dont even understand what you're thinking and why you would think such ridiculous things. i lead my own life. i'm not conjoined at the hip. i have friends and i hang out with them. so whats wrong with that? why can everybody else do as they wish and when i do you think all kinds of weird things? is that some kind of mind clog i dont know about? why must you make such assumptions and horrible accusations? do you know that with each word you drive me away? do you know that with each time you dont trust me and you dont believe me, i just lose a little more hope and drift just a little further? but yet you still affect me with your views. would it make you happier if i had none of my so-called 'lousy friends' and no boyfriend? would it make you happy to see me alone and miserable? at least so i can keep you company? is that what you want? well you might be satisfied if you knew how miserable i am now. but does it make you any less so? are you happy now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3534294438286661915?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3534294438286661915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3534294438286661915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3534294438286661915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3534294438286661915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-arose-out-of-nothing-at-all-i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5860920793526377794</id><published>2009-01-20T21:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T21:21:51.784+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>there comes a point when you just feel so tired. of all the complicated relationships around you. why must everything be connected with such a myriad of other emotions and feelings? if i love someone why can't it be pure with no feelings of sadness anger disappointment mingling? why can't others just leave you alone to do what you're meant to? why can't i do my own thing? why can't i? it's my life isn't it? you gave it to me, yes. and i'm eternally grateful. but now it's mine. take it back if you must. then, take all of it back. but otherwise stop making me straddle the divide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just all so tiring and draining. i don't feel like talking to any of you. i'll sooner live alone. no complications. would you be happier? if i went away and became a nun. i'm gonna withdraw now and hit the books. it's infinitely better than having to deal with this thing you call 'my life'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5860920793526377794?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5860920793526377794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5860920793526377794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5860920793526377794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5860920793526377794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/01/there-comes-point-when-you-just-feel-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7007924670906575440</id><published>2009-01-11T23:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T23:51:10.438+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we've all changed. the cynical ones have mellowed, the nice ones have turned cynical. the bitches become less bitchy, because bitches dont have friends, and the pushovers have toughened up. we've all erected fake fronts, superficial faces we show to people around. and we've walled ourselves up, defense against external attacks. it's odd to see these changes, although of course, we all change, but funny how i think i'm still the same as ever, but the change in others is so apparent. there're those who have been broken by recent events, struggling to stand again, those who have fallen in love and done things; said things you never thought you'd hear them say, they've softened around the edges, those who have changed themselves for the better, letting things go easier, going with the flow, those who forgive better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we've all grown up i guess. without knowing it. and wouldn't you know it, cuz life is so much more dramatic than we think it is, so much more of a show than we ever realize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school starts tomorrow. happy start-of-school!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7007924670906575440?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7007924670906575440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7007924670906575440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7007924670906575440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7007924670906575440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2009/01/weve-all-changed.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7775643365828374395</id><published>2008-12-28T00:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T01:03:00.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We were both young when I first saw you&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And the flashback starts&lt;br /&gt;I'm standing there&lt;br /&gt;On a balcony of summer air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the lights,&lt;br /&gt;See the party, the ball gowns&lt;br /&gt;I see you make your way through the crowd&lt;br /&gt;You say hello&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That you were Romeo you were throwing pebbles&lt;br /&gt;And my daddy said stay away from Juliet&lt;br /&gt;And I was crying on the staircase&lt;br /&gt;Begging you please don't go, and I said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone&lt;br /&gt;I'll be waiting all there's left to do is run&lt;br /&gt;You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess&lt;br /&gt;It's a love story baby just say yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sneak out to the garden to see you&lt;br /&gt;We keep quiet cause we're dead if they knew&lt;br /&gt;So close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Escape this town for a little while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you were Romeo I was a scarlet letter&lt;br /&gt;And my daddy said stay away from Juliet&lt;br /&gt;But you were everything to me&lt;br /&gt;I was begging you please don't go and I said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone&lt;br /&gt;I'll be waiting all there's left to do is run&lt;br /&gt;You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess&lt;br /&gt;It's a love story baby just say yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romeo save me, they try to tell me how to feel&lt;br /&gt;This love is difficult, but it's real,&lt;br /&gt;Don't be afraid&lt;br /&gt;We'll make it out of this mess&lt;br /&gt;It's a love story baby just say yes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got tired of waiting&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if you were ever coming around&lt;br /&gt;My faith in you was fading&lt;br /&gt;When I met you on the outskirts of town I said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romeo save me I've been feeling so alone&lt;br /&gt;I keep waiting for you but you never come&lt;br /&gt;Is this in my head, I don't know what to think&lt;br /&gt;He knealt to the ground and pulled out a ring&lt;br /&gt;And said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marry me Juliet you'll never have to be alone&lt;br /&gt;I love you and that's all I really know&lt;br /&gt;I talked to your dad you'll pick out a white dress&lt;br /&gt;It's a love story baby just say yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause we were both young when I first saw you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7775643365828374395?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7775643365828374395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7775643365828374395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7775643365828374395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7775643365828374395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/12/we-were-both-young-when-i-first-saw-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-6844749620832376325</id><published>2008-11-23T00:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T15:15:51.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;sorry.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, what's the use of hindsight when the damage has already been done. what's the use of making all your mistakes if you are only going to make them again and again and again. i'm sorry. really. i didn't mean to be so vindictive. but intention or not things happen. i've said it so many times that you cant take back things. you cant unknow things. you cant undo things. but still impulse reins sometimes. i wish i had thought with my brain. i'm sorry. please forgive me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-6844749620832376325?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/6844749620832376325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=6844749620832376325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6844749620832376325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6844749620832376325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/11/sorry.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8161875007785054501</id><published>2008-11-22T14:42:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:19:55.777+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel fine&lt;br /&gt;Now the rain is gone&lt;br /&gt;and the sun has come to shine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can get me down today&lt;br /&gt;Head over heels&lt;br /&gt;Got my mind made up&lt;br /&gt;as I'm driving through the fields&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can get me down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catch me if you can&lt;br /&gt;I've got to make a getaway&lt;br /&gt;As the sun goes down&lt;br /&gt;Waking up my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in my mind, you're with me once again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Into your head.&lt;br /&gt;And inside my heart there's a place for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in my mind I'm with you once again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Into your head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chasing the sun&lt;br /&gt;Trying to get away&lt;br /&gt;From the rain that's gonna come&lt;br /&gt;Hope I make it all the way&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost in a crowd&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find my way&lt;br /&gt;But the rain keeps falling down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't matter anyway&lt;br /&gt;Catch me if you can&lt;br /&gt;I've got to make a getaway&lt;br /&gt;As the sun goes down&lt;br /&gt;Waking up my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in my mind, you're with me once again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at the sky&lt;br /&gt;Feel the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;In your heart&lt;br /&gt;In your head&lt;br /&gt;In your own time&lt;br /&gt;As the sun goes down&lt;br /&gt;Waking up my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in my mind, you're with me once again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8161875007785054501?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8161875007785054501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8161875007785054501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8161875007785054501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8161875007785054501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-feel-fine-now-rain-is-gone-and-sun.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-6022474476607651031</id><published>2008-11-18T02:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:39:19.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;the men don't get it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;help me through this. i'm really not strong enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-6022474476607651031?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/6022474476607651031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=6022474476607651031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6022474476607651031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6022474476607651031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/11/men-dont-get-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-4274474226398618576</id><published>2008-11-13T12:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:39:45.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>death: i'm not scared of dying. but i'm scared of being left behind. i'm selfish, so i'd rather die young than have that feeling inflicted upon me.&lt;br /&gt;love: i'm not angry with you. but i'm terribly upset that you don't understand what i'm feeling. that you misunderstand my intentions.&lt;br /&gt;friends: how much do we really know about anyone around us? and how much of what they tell us can we believe?&lt;br /&gt;family: are they the people who love you the most, that's why they accept your faults? or are they the people who have no choice BUT to accept your faults, even if they hate doing so?&lt;br /&gt;life: what's it but an interlude between the time before and the time after? a passing phase lasting no more than a century.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-4274474226398618576?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/4274474226398618576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=4274474226398618576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4274474226398618576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4274474226398618576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/11/death-im-not-scared-of-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-29496321505665082</id><published>2008-11-09T12:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:20:58.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hey love, happy 21st birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you for being so accommodating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you for coaxing me out of being angry with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you for the little stuff you say that means so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you for hugging me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you for constantly trying to reassure me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you for being you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you when you laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you when you smile at me with a smile meant for me and me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you when you hold my hand just because you want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you when you hold my fist when i wouldnt let you hold my hand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-29496321505665082?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/29496321505665082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=29496321505665082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/29496321505665082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/29496321505665082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/11/hey-love-happy-21st-birthday-i-love-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-6117516173653327385</id><published>2008-10-31T20:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:21:22.662+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;girls were never meant to chase guys.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's almost the end of the term again. this sem has positively flown away. it's kinda upsetting. kinda scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thanks sam for being there when i needed someone to just BE there. thanks for listening even when i didnt say anything cuz sometimes all you need is just knowing someone is there for you, just knowing that someone knows you're hurting.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-6117516173653327385?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/6117516173653327385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=6117516173653327385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6117516173653327385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6117516173653327385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/girls-were-never-meant-to-chase-guys.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3347465878911825026</id><published>2008-10-24T16:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:21:41.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I woke up from a strange rain&lt;br /&gt;And it was dreaming outside&lt;br /&gt;I rolled over for the telephone&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd call someone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell them I dreamed I had died&lt;br /&gt;But I know that I was all alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just get lonely sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to take away my grief&lt;br /&gt;I just get lonely sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I want to wake up in the morning with someone&lt;br /&gt;Lying next to me who I can turn to for relief&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just get lonely sometimes&lt;br /&gt;But I know I just need You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably slept in a bed of bitterness&lt;br /&gt;That's why I woke up this way&lt;br /&gt;That's probably why I'm in this lonesome hole&lt;br /&gt;I probably got to needing everything&lt;br /&gt;And needing it today&lt;br /&gt;That's probably why I play this lonely role&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know I just need You&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3347465878911825026?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3347465878911825026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3347465878911825026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3347465878911825026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3347465878911825026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-woke-up-from-strange-rain-and-it-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5170417646886810844</id><published>2008-10-22T20:39:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:22:07.149+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we look at things the way we want to see it don't we? we fit things around and manipulate things to fit what we want to think, what we want to believe. to fit to our perceptions, the lattices we have built up in our minds for these things. because everything is &lt;em&gt;subjective&lt;/em&gt;. everything is subject to personal opinion. correct until proven wrong, that is. but it's how we are built you see. and it's how we so often make mistakes. because we don't see the truth. we are too busy deceiving ourselves. the truth is only the lie we choose to believe. the truth is whichever lie we choose to believe. so.. what truth? what is truth when put into perspective? what if you didn't know the answer to a question and came up with two opposing hypothesis, how would you know which is the correct one? and when results prove that the first hypothesis was correct, how do you know that is the real explanation for it? couldn't it have been something else? something out of this world that you could never have thought of, much less explain? what makes us think we're all so intelligent that we can explain everything? what makes us think that it couldn't be an alternative explanation? &lt;em&gt;everything &lt;/em&gt;can be explained. yea. so in science you do experiments to prove other hypothesis wrong, to prove other people correct. but just like in court, innocent until proven guilty, they are all only &lt;em&gt;correct til proven wrong. &lt;/em&gt;what happens then if one day everything you've ever known, everything you've ever thought you knew comes apart and you find that whatever you based your beliefs on &lt;em&gt;were not true?&lt;/em&gt; what happens then? could you carry on? knowing that you lived... not a lie exactly, but not the truth anymore. is truth important? is it the foundation, the basis of everything? what then is truth if it is &lt;em&gt;relative?&lt;/em&gt; how can you have relative truth? it's supposed to be absolute isn't it? yet how can something so uncertain be absolute? and if truth is not important, why do we go on seeking it at all cost? why do we chase after it when clearly, sometimes, there is &lt;em&gt;no truth &lt;/em&gt;and alot of times we don't know what truth is and many other times, the lines are so blurred it could go either way. and for that matter.. what are facts?? thoughts going around like a carousel, around and around and around.. only this carousel doesn't ever stop turning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;edit&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;oh remember what i said before about love? i change my definition: love is, knowing it might hurt sometimes, or knowing it's going to hurt sometime, but yet still be willing to go ahead and try your best to make it work. to not be afraid the possibility of pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5170417646886810844?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5170417646886810844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5170417646886810844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5170417646886810844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5170417646886810844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/we-look-at-things-way-we-want-to-see-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5911853752368454468</id><published>2008-10-19T19:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:22:26.904+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;i miss you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss your name on my handphone screen, i miss seeing 'alvin tang' on my msn contact list when i search for people to talk to. i miss you making me laugh. i miss you being irritating. i miss you telling me you love me. i miss you saying sorry for everything and anything even though its not your fault. i miss you making fun of me. i miss you glancing at me. i miss watching you concentrate hard on something. i miss looking at you. i miss seeing you bend and write down something in your kindergarden handwriting that i like. i miss telling you to sto rubbing your eye when it hurts. i miss messing around and playing like kids when we're bored of studying. i miss seeing your sleep. i miss hearing your voice smelling your smell. i miss knowing that you will be there forever and for always. i'm so scared. please dont give up on me. i didnt mean it. i didnt. honestly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5911853752368454468?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5911853752368454468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5911853752368454468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5911853752368454468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5911853752368454468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7281773493115273288</id><published>2008-10-19T11:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:22:42.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i've evolved into that girl i never thought i'll be. that girl who puts her boyfriend above everything else. that girl who is a jealous mass of nerves sometimes. i never thought i'll act this way. looking at vivien sometimes with shirlaine or sam with yuhan, i never thought i would one day be the same as her. but i am now. and i know why now. i get it. now. sometimes i feel like i'm yuhan in the sam and yuhan relationship. it feels that way sometimes, like i'm the one who's clingy and possessive and obsessive. i'm scared this will put him off. i love alvin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7281773493115273288?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7281773493115273288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7281773493115273288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7281773493115273288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7281773493115273288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-evolved-into-that-girl-i-never.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8243284893598094863</id><published>2008-10-19T11:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:22:57.551+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;love my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes there are no words to describe it. it just is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8243284893598094863?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8243284893598094863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8243284893598094863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8243284893598094863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8243284893598094863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-really-love-my-boyfriend.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5398017921631683146</id><published>2008-10-16T20:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:23:17.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I waited for you today&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But you didn't show.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I needed you today&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So where did you go?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You told me to call&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Said you'd be there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And though I haven't seen you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are you still there?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I cried out with no reply&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I can't feel you by my side.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5398017921631683146?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5398017921631683146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5398017921631683146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5398017921631683146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5398017921631683146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-waited-for-you-today-but-you-didnt.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-549516518924345268</id><published>2008-10-15T11:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:23:51.654+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tell me why there is a need for some to report exactly where they are and what they are doing in their personal messages on msn? is there really a need for us to know that you're webcasting in the science library???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm that was catty.. but i'm swamped with work and i need to vent, so forgive me haha. cuz msn is as good a punching bag as any. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-549516518924345268?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/549516518924345268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=549516518924345268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/549516518924345268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/549516518924345268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/tell-me-why-there-is-need-for-some-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2633253067619829001</id><published>2008-10-08T22:29:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:24:11.981+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>vivien, i know what love is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is.. knowing it's going to hurt, but still keeping on coming back for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here's what i got from a sappy book i was reading:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... because true love isn't about sheet music or embossed invitations or lace. it isnt about the size of your bridal party or the expensiveness of the food. true love is what you find when you aren't expecting it. true love is taking the risk that it wont be a happily ever after. true love is joining hands with the man who loves you for who you are and saying, 'i'm not afraid to believe in you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a love like that that has legs. a love like that will survive most anything....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2633253067619829001?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2633253067619829001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2633253067619829001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2633253067619829001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2633253067619829001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/vivien-i-know-what-love-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8442574446523294855</id><published>2008-10-05T18:40:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:24:34.811+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;they &lt;/em&gt;say it like it happens at first sight, like it's a flash of lightning, suddenly lighting everything up with clarity. &lt;em&gt;they &lt;/em&gt;say it like it's the work of cupid's arrow, that you can love someone for no rhyme or reason. &lt;em&gt;they&lt;/em&gt; say it like it's all bliss and no heartache, like the rest of the world ceases to exist just because you're in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it &lt;em&gt;isn't. they &lt;/em&gt;are wrong. it's not a &lt;em&gt;coup de foudre. &lt;/em&gt;it's a silent knowledge that you have. it isnt dramatic and big and all encompassing, but you know it within you all the same. there is no doubt about it. you chance upon something, and it &lt;em&gt;grows &lt;/em&gt;to become something important because you work on it, because you build it up bit by bit as you go through stuff together. you love someone for every reason there is to give in the world, not for no reason. when you love someone, the rest of your world remains normal. you still encounter the crap, it doesnt go away just because you're in love. bad things don't just stop happening because you're in love. but at least you know, at the end of the day, there's someone to return home to, someone to depend on. and it makes you feel just a little better, just a little stronger. that someone encourages you like noone ever has before, he stands by you even when you make a bad choice, he picks you up when you fall, he doesnt shoot you down, but he doesnt let you make mistakes, he tells you when he thinks you're wrong and helps you fix it up, he doesnt flatter you just cuz he thinks you'd like to hear it more than you'd like to be criticized. you gain a little confidence in yourself, in him, and feel like you can take on a little more of the nonsense that life has to throw at you. and that's all the difference in the world. you love that someone in a different way from the way you love your friends, but there is no rank. it's a different kind of love altogether and they coexist. there isn't any competition to see who comes out tops. there isn't a need to consider the judgements of others in the assessment of your own relationship, not if it is love. there isn't a fixed set of rules you must follow as to how long it takes for you to get together, to hold hands, to love each other. love is not measured by time. you cannot not love a person simply because you've known him for too short a time. and you can not love a person even if you've been together for aeons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with you, i don't have to ask others for advice. not really anyway, not advice that i would really take into consideration because i know it in my heart that its real. with you there isnt any need to seperate the rest of my world quite so clearly. you blend and fit in just as i do into yours. with you i dont desire time away. i dont need to hide anything from you, i dont need my 'privacy'. everything's different with you, everything's new. i love you darling boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;happy 4th. =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avril Lavigne - Naked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;Put on my face.&lt;br /&gt;The one thats gonna get me,&lt;br /&gt;Through another day.&lt;br /&gt;Doesnt really matter,&lt;br /&gt;How I feel inside.&lt;br /&gt;This life is like a game sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you came around me,&lt;br /&gt;The walls just disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to surround me,&lt;br /&gt;To keep me from my fears&lt;br /&gt;Im unprotected&lt;br /&gt;See how Ive opened up&lt;br /&gt;Youve made me trust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuz Ive never felt like this before&lt;br /&gt;Im naked...&lt;br /&gt;around you&lt;br /&gt;Does it show?&lt;br /&gt;You see right through me&lt;br /&gt;And I cant hide&lt;br /&gt;Im naked...&lt;br /&gt;around you&lt;br /&gt;And it feels so right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im trying to remember&lt;br /&gt;Why I was afraid&lt;br /&gt;To be myself&lt;br /&gt;And let the.....&lt;br /&gt;covers fall away&lt;br /&gt;Guess I never had&lt;br /&gt;Someone like you&lt;br /&gt;To help me fit&lt;br /&gt;In my skin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuz Ive never felt like this before&lt;br /&gt;Im naked&lt;br /&gt;Around you&lt;br /&gt;Does it show?&lt;br /&gt;You see right through me&lt;br /&gt;And I cant hide&lt;br /&gt;Im naked&lt;br /&gt;Around you&lt;br /&gt;And it feels so right&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8442574446523294855?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8442574446523294855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8442574446523294855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8442574446523294855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8442574446523294855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/they-say-it-like-it-happens-at-first.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2263836973925848121</id><published>2008-10-01T22:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:24:52.501+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>your voice, is the soundtrack of my summer, and my every-other-season-there-is-to-name. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2263836973925848121?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2263836973925848121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2263836973925848121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2263836973925848121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2263836973925848121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/10/your-voice-is-soundtrack-of-my-summer.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3158586211197952562</id><published>2008-09-28T23:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:25:19.877+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>life's good till something happens. somebody's ideal till he/she does something wrong. then it all falls apart. and the worst thing about it is that you never know when something will happen, what will happen. you can only sit still and watch it happen and wonder why you never ever foresaw it's happening. and why you find it so hard to believe even as it unfolds in front of you right now, unravelling everything you ever had, everything you ever thought you had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i hadn't grown up until everything that everyone has told me just started hitting me. it's like getting drenched in ice cold water in the dead of the night. it's time to wake up i guess. it's time to grow up. cuz i can't put it off any longer, not when i know these things now that i never knew before. not when more and more responsibility is being placed on my shoulders. not when i know that whatever i do now affects me for the rest of my life. not when my parents can't protect me anymore. it makes me feel exposed. it makes me go weak in the knees with nerves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always been scared of promises of forever or for always. because you know, people say things in the heat of the moment. but life and love, they are the same. they are so unpredictable and so fragile. and the more you believe in them, the more you hope, the more broken you feel if ever anything goes wrong. sometimes things you thought would be forever turn out not to be. it makes me feel hopeless. like nothing will ever work out. i cant put in words the way i feel. but i guess it's kinda like... the feeling you get, like if even the person most adept at this can't do it, how can i ever hope to? if even the most blissful partnership can come to an end on such an ugly note, is there hope left for any of us? if even the person who seemed like she was so in love could turn out to be such a hypocrite, then is there anybody in this entire world who isn't one? it gives you such a feeling of fear and paranoia. it's a wonder we are not all jaded emotionless beings considering the total lack of humanity here, now. they make me sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;tell me it'll never be us. i love you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;like the stars who'll never want to leave the sky, nor can they, even if they tried their hardest to.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3158586211197952562?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3158586211197952562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3158586211197952562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3158586211197952562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3158586211197952562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/09/lifes-good-till-something-happens.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8569454543849903088</id><published>2008-09-12T00:43:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:25:37.822+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you know when somehow there's no need to second guess everything he does.&lt;br /&gt;you know when he calls you when he says he will.&lt;br /&gt;you know when he knows when you're sad.&lt;br /&gt;you know when he laughs at what you're saying even when it's meant to be funny but is actually not.&lt;br /&gt;you know when he waits for you and doesn't complain.&lt;br /&gt;you know when he hugs you tight.&lt;br /&gt;you know when he kisses you on your head.&lt;br /&gt;you know when you just know what he's going to say next.&lt;br /&gt;you know when you say the same thing at the same time every so often.&lt;br /&gt;you know when you feel what he's feeling too.&lt;br /&gt;you know when you don't feel irritated when he complains.&lt;br /&gt;you know when you tell him every single thing, retarded or not.&lt;br /&gt;you know when the facade falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's when you know you love that boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8569454543849903088?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8569454543849903088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8569454543849903088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8569454543849903088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8569454543849903088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-know-when-somehow-theres-no-need-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2880682077952575159</id><published>2008-09-05T00:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:25:55.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>everything always seems different from a different perspective. there are things some people will never get. remember nixon, you said the other day that things we never understood when we were young, now i guess we cant believe how anyone can not get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm feeling this deep sense of disgruntled-ness and it's keeping me from sleep. it's everything i guess. but yet it's all nothing much at all. and that somehow makes it worse. like it's all so trivial, but together, they accumulate to make me feel like tearing my hair out and yet there's nothing i can do to help any of the situations. it's the being out of control that annoys me most i guess. if i could only do something about anything it might be better. but no. it's all in the hands of someone or other. but just not me. how irritating is that? it means that no matter how hard i try, no matter what i do, i can't change my plight. wth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont like school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2880682077952575159?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2880682077952575159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2880682077952575159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2880682077952575159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2880682077952575159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/09/everything-always-seems-different-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3679518821560830014</id><published>2008-07-26T18:18:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:26:09.854+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;to the only one who has ever been able to make me this happy, to let me feel something i've never felt before now, an emotion i thought i knew but never did, in a time when i didnt know what i did not know. well now i know. i know what love is. i know what it feels like to look forward to forever. it hasn't been long, but somehow my gut tells me there's still a long way to go. i've never felt safer with anybody else.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thank you. i love you Alvin Tang Wei Qi. =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3679518821560830014?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3679518821560830014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3679518821560830014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3679518821560830014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3679518821560830014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/07/to-only-one-who-has-ever-been-able-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1349616425149433608</id><published>2008-07-13T14:25:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:26:25.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>new beginnings. i'm letting go of the past. i'm sorry but i am. because it was never going to work out was it? two different personalities would never have worked it out. i tried a second time. but when i realized i needed a break from one i held dear, something must be wrong. something must have gone extremely wrong. so i'm sorry. condolences to your granddad. i really feel for you, but i cannot get close. i will not anymore, because we are too different. it wont work out so there's no point pretending we can hold on for a little while more. i want to help you along this painful time, but it's too easy to fall into things when one is vulnerable. i'm sorry. it may be my fault, or it may be our personality clash. in any case, when perspectives, opinions, views, ways of handling are all different, it's just pretty hard for both parties. sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quite apart from that, i hope you are well on your way to recovery. i really hope you will stop hurting soon. seeing you like this pains all of us. take care girl, rest well, recover fast, we'll wait for you. we'll be there to help you along whenever you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye bye cheryl, have fun in aussie, we'll miss you blur girl. take care! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i can do the double major. i will. because i am working hard and despite everything i know if you work hard enough things will turn out fine. it will. it must.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i know it's fast but i have faith. i know it will work out, we just click too well for it not to. =) i've never felt like this before. there are no words i can use.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1349616425149433608?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1349616425149433608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1349616425149433608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1349616425149433608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1349616425149433608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-beginnings.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-68236084758589342</id><published>2008-06-21T00:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:37:54.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>please dont please dont take away my options. please dont. please&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-68236084758589342?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/68236084758589342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=68236084758589342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/68236084758589342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/68236084758589342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/06/please-dont-please-dont-take-away-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3888925396856852942</id><published>2008-06-17T22:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:38:15.847+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>no matter what words you say to try to appease a person, no matter how you flower your language, the underlying truth still remains. and when you strip everything away, the truth is ugly and painful. you hide it away. but how the hell do you want to hide the fact that you never got over someone? how are you going to hide the fact that the other person is not in fact significant? you cant. so dont lie. that person can always see the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3888925396856852942?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3888925396856852942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3888925396856852942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3888925396856852942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3888925396856852942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/06/no-matter-what-words-you-say-to-try-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3639937029575518147</id><published>2008-06-09T00:46:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:40:15.288+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>outing today with sam, who has been gone for what seems like forever. had a great laugh, miss those times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it occurred to me that i miss someone more when i'm with him/her. it's like when i'm having a good time with people then i'll be like omg. i so miss this. which is kind of odd isnt it? i miss a person more when he/she is right in front of me than when he/she is ten trillion light years away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i thought that perhaps it will always be like this. friends who dont need to contact all that much, who dont need to talk everyday, who may not always know when things happen to each other, but yet, friends who know that if need be, everybody is just a phone call away. and that if you get drunk, these are the people who will send you home unharmed. if you fall to pieces, they are the ones who will pick up those pieces and slap you awake and tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. if you are hurt, you can bet they'll fight your corner. and in turn, you will do the same for them. thanks rouyu, vivien, samantha, nixon, cheryl teo, cheryl choo. three million years down the road, i'm sure we'll still be friends cuz i love you guys so much. =) thanks for always always being there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the bus i met an old lady, and bizarrely we got to talking while waiting to reach our respective destinations, and i wonder what would have happened had my grandma still been here. i miss her suddenly. the old lady figure in my life who i never realy talked to cuz i couldnt speak dialect then. what a pity i didnt get to know her more. what a pity she died so young. but yet. better that she ended her pain early no? if i were to choose, i choose death over pain anyday. haha i mean like if i were ridden with illnesses and endless pains and aches, i'd just rather not. at the rate i'm going, maybe i won't see 60, so what do you do? you enjoy life while it lasts. =)&lt;br /&gt;but anyway, it's nice to hear how she has grandchildren and lives with her own children still and everything. sometimes these things are pretty heartwarming. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you knew me you would know. i gave you a key to somewhere else, but i think you probably forgot about it and you probably are letting it sit somewhere, rusting away.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3639937029575518147?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3639937029575518147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3639937029575518147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3639937029575518147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3639937029575518147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/06/outing-today-with-sam-who-has-been-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-390793014370938454</id><published>2008-06-08T00:12:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:40:30.912+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you know? better to be honest about things up front. always. no point lying to make a person feel better. its just a cowardly way out for you i guess. to make yourself seem better than you are. just tell the truth. so i can see and lose hope in mankind. better than to always think something better will happen, that you will be better, and then find out that no, it wont ever happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;this post is general ok? not directed at anybody. everybody stop being sensitive. I'm just not very confident in people right now. in general.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-390793014370938454?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/390793014370938454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=390793014370938454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/390793014370938454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/390793014370938454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/06/you-know-better-to-be-honest-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7982179672916798199</id><published>2008-05-20T23:35:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:40:53.582+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>痴心绝对&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;想用一杯Latte把你灌醉&lt;br /&gt;好让你能多爱我一点&lt;br /&gt;暗恋的滋味你不懂这种感觉&lt;br /&gt;早有人陪的你永远不会&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;看见你和他在我面前&lt;br /&gt;证明我的爱只是愚昧&lt;br /&gt;你不懂我的 那些憔悴&lt;br /&gt;是你永远不曾过的体会&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;为你付出那种伤心你永远不了解&lt;br /&gt;我又何苦勉强自己爱上你的一切&lt;br /&gt;你又狠狠逼退 我的防备&lt;br /&gt;静静关上门来默数我的泪&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;明知道让你离开他的世界不可能会&lt;br /&gt;我还傻傻等到奇迹出现的那一天&lt;br /&gt;直到那一天 你会发现&lt;br /&gt;真正爱你的人独自守着伤悲&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;看见你和他在我面前&lt;br /&gt;证明我的爱只是愚昧&lt;br /&gt;你不懂我的 那些憔悴&lt;br /&gt;是你永远不曾过的体会&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;明知道让你离开他的世界不可能会&lt;br /&gt;我还傻傻等到奇迹出现的那一天&lt;br /&gt;直到那一天 你会发现&lt;br /&gt;真正爱你的人独自守着伤悲&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;曾经我以为我自己会后悔&lt;br /&gt;不想爱得太多痴心绝对&lt;br /&gt;为你落第一滴泪&lt;br /&gt;为你作任何改变&lt;br /&gt;也唤不回你对我的坚决&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;为你付出那种伤心你永远不了解&lt;br /&gt;我又何苦勉强自己爱上你的一切&lt;br /&gt;你又狠狠逼退 我的防备&lt;br /&gt;静静关上门来默数我的泪&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;明知道让你离开他的世界不可能会&lt;br /&gt;我还傻傻等到奇迹出现的那一天&lt;br /&gt;直到那一天 你会发现&lt;br /&gt;真正爱你的人独自守着伤悲&lt;br /&gt;直到那一天 你会发现&lt;br /&gt;真正爱你的人独自守着伤悲&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;this song seems to say all that i want to say. i dont want to be hurt and i dont want to hurt anybody. i dont like being hated by people i do not even know. it doesnt matter. i'll hide it away. but sometimes it's very hard. sometimes i feel like i might keel over with pain. do you know? i guess not. i feel like i'm invisible to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7982179672916798199?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7982179672916798199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7982179672916798199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7982179672916798199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7982179672916798199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/05/latte-this-song-seems-to-say-all-that-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-574349231232894142</id><published>2008-05-20T23:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:41:04.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>everything hurts. right. now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-574349231232894142?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/574349231232894142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=574349231232894142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/574349231232894142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/574349231232894142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/05/everything-hurts.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-985073975100466265</id><published>2008-05-17T00:07:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:41:38.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>love means talking on the phone all night and not running out of things to say. love means doing things for one another that you wouldnt normally do for any other. love means sacrifice. love means keeping your promises to one another. love means protecting each other from hurt. love lies in the everyday things. a look in the eye, a touch of the face. a small note to cheer you up tucked deep into your bag for you to turn out one day. unexpected. love means anticipation of the next meeting. love makes you pick up a tiny thing just to make the person happy. love means dropping stuff just to make you smile. love is in a little handmade thing that makes no sense. love is anything you do to put a smile on the person's face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is not trying to impress someone. love is not big gifts and humongous bunches of flowers. love is about meaningful gifts. not useless ones. love is music to the heart. love seldom brings tears of anything other than joy. love makes you happy. love means putting away the thing most important to you if it means that much to the person. but love also means that person will not ask you to put it down anyway. just knowing that you'd be willing to put it down is enough. love means that you will be wiling to put down things that are of lesser importance. love means you dont give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because if you feel like giving up, it isnt love. you dont even like the person that much. then. i guess. let the person know. and let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is not selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你的姿態 你的青睞 我存在在你的存在&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;你以為愛 就是被愛 你揮霍了我的崇拜 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我活了 我愛了 我都不管了&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;心愛到瘋了 恨到酸了就好了&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;可能的 可以的 真的可惜了&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;幸福好不容易 怎麼你卻不敢了呢？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;我還以為我們能 不同於別人 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;我還以為不可能的 不會不可能 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;風箏有風 海豚有海&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我存在在我的存在&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;所以明白 所以離開&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;所以不再為愛而愛&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;自己存在 在你之外&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-985073975100466265?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/985073975100466265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=985073975100466265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/985073975100466265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/985073975100466265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/05/love-means-talking-on-phone-all-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3460938132568692417</id><published>2008-04-25T14:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:41:59.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's easier to talk about making rational choices than it is to make them. and it is easier to make rational choices when you're a million miles apart. but it is not easy to guarantee that these rational decisions won't simply crumble when the distance closes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3460938132568692417?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3460938132568692417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3460938132568692417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3460938132568692417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3460938132568692417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-easier-to-talk-about-making.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-64038617466135777</id><published>2008-04-19T22:17:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:42:16.217+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>some random musings and stuff running through my head:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. god is our lord and saviour and is placed above all things. so the question is, if faced with a choice: give up your religion or your parents, how is this choice to be made? if someone unhesitatingly tells me 'god for sure', should i be impressed by his/her loyalty and conviction towards god? or should i be shocked by his disloyalty towards his parents? his lack of piety?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. should i just study special semester this year since i have already made the commitments, or should i try to apply for a job and drop all arrangements including camps and special sem made prior to this? i could try for UCLA again next sem and pray like hell i get it, or if i dont i can look for a job next year instead, and concentrate on special sem and volunteer work this year. and if i do get it next year, i could try applying for a job in my graduating year for three months for job experience by telling them that i'm only an undergraduate? will that work? hmm. decisions decisions. i wish i had more time eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. can i still do well for metab when i screwed both the tests? =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. in a movie, we often see flashforwards. even in books we see it, for that matter. i mean it's like a flashback, except they show you what happens in the future of the life of the character instead of the past. we know that this is not possible since we can never see the future. so what are these flashforwards? are they a prediction of what is going to happen but are in fact not guaranteed to happen? or is the character already living in that 'future', ie he/she is already old and all and the entire movie was simply a flashback of his/her life? a memory of what's long past? then again, what was shown in the movies are often curent. so how can it be 'something that happened long ago'? just something whimsical that came out because of discussions that i had in class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. perspectives. they are all that matter in the end aren't they? if i went through a difficult episode but took a different stand or had a different view of the situation, i could be happier with the outcome couldn't i? is that why relgion works? is it because people take the perspective that: 'everything happens for a reason, whatever i'm going through now is part of the divine plan and i should just trust in god because he knows what is best for me.' is that it? since people know what happens is kind of 'inevitable', they stop trying to fight the misfortunes, they accept it more coolly, whatever happens, they take it and work around it, calm and collected. but i cannot deny that it is indeed better this way is it not? because with such a perspective, believers could be more content with what they have right? they tend not to be so anxious and worried and depressed when things go wrong. but on the other hand.. could this become an easy excuse to fall back on? a lazy person's way of shirking responsibility? "oh it's god's will that i fail this exam and drop out of school" couldn't this kind of situation happen? i guess it's a fine line that we all have to walk. we have to make the distinction ourselves. but then again, the bible says 'lean not on your own understanding'. then now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;disclaimer: i'm not trying to offend, neither am i questioning anyone's beliefs. i'm genuinely confused and trying to make sense of things. so don't shoot me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and... a complaint:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the service industry in singapore needs a serious makeover. i must have encountered a million horrible customer service officers in the past month. i mean seriously, if you hate the customers that much, DON'T go into the line!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;firstly, a good customer service officer ought to always smile and be nice, even if you hate the customer, you complain BEHIND THEIR BACKS. NOT FREAKING GIVE THEM THE FACE. for goodness sake, you are paid to be nice. so do your job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;secondly, a person in the service line does NOT dawdle and take his/her own sweet time while preparing your merchandise/food whatever. by dawdling, i don't mean packing everything nicely and taking the time to wrap up stuff. i totally appreciate that effort made. by dawdling, i mean talking to other colleagues and getting distracted by XXX being seen with XXX at XXX and then both exclaiming in disbelief and confirmation respectively, conveniently forgetting about the person waiting for them to finish their rubbish and get on with the packing or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirdly, a customer service officer listens and looks at the customer, not shut your ears and eyes and make the customer move heaven and earth simply to get a sliver of your attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fourthly, even if you are a cleaner and not technically a customer service officer, you do NOT clean the table and spill half the remains on a person sitting at the table. it is DISGUSTING and UNHYGIENIC and HORRIBLY ANNOYING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly, with the sevice tax we have to pay these days, you would think things would improve. but no. it's deteoriating and deteoriating and deteoriating. how horrible. i could be a better customer service officer than the majority of the people in the line. i ought to put it in my resume or sth: i can be a better customer service officer than all your current staff combined. hire me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-64038617466135777?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/64038617466135777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=64038617466135777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/64038617466135777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/64038617466135777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/some-random-musings-and-stuff-running.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-700523224115485620</id><published>2008-04-19T15:00:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:42:26.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>people drift. it's inevitable. new perspectives gained maybe? i dont like you very much now. you've changed =( everybody changes. maybe i have too and i cant accomodate your ways anymore. maybe this friendship wont last forever in the way i thought it would. =( it seems superficial now. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened in the past affects what happens now and what will happen in the future. i cant change what happened in the past but i can change what i do now. i can change how the past affects me now. i can prevent the bad things from affecting me negatively and let the positive stuff come through. because what has happened before doesnt matter. not anymore. what matters most is what happens hereafter. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-700523224115485620?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/700523224115485620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=700523224115485620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/700523224115485620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/700523224115485620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/people-drift.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1511730277195554984</id><published>2008-04-12T22:28:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:42:39.554+08:00</updated><title type='text'>runner.</title><content type='html'>plodded through the dried; cracked land.&lt;br /&gt;head down, shoulders hunched,&lt;br /&gt;one.. two.. one.. two.. plod plod plod.&lt;br /&gt;mood alike the barren ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amidst the brown, smatterings of yellow.&lt;br /&gt;tiny blades with dried out ends.&lt;br /&gt;one. two. one. two.&lt;br /&gt;eyes slightly raised, glimpsing ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brighter now, sun glancing off the water drops.&lt;br /&gt;large green fields and dancing dandelions.&lt;br /&gt;one. two. skip. one. two. skip.&lt;br /&gt;lighter steps, a cheerier heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cool gusts of wind, fingers of breeze.&lt;br /&gt;lifts the fringe off my face, lets it stream back.&lt;br /&gt;one-two-one-two&lt;br /&gt;sprinting barefoot across the grassy plains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;faster, faster, pick up speed.&lt;br /&gt;a soaring sensation, like a bird so free.&lt;br /&gt;flap flap flap, i'm flying.&lt;br /&gt;stopping; halting, in front of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1511730277195554984?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1511730277195554984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1511730277195554984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1511730277195554984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1511730277195554984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/runner.html' title='runner.'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5422315105188401331</id><published>2008-04-10T23:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:42:57.022+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>actually, all i have to do is sleep my life away, then i wont need clothes and food and riches. work? exams? school? certs? why bother?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5422315105188401331?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5422315105188401331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5422315105188401331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5422315105188401331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5422315105188401331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/actually-all-i-have-to-do-is-sleep-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-815524057763186328</id><published>2008-04-10T23:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:43:06.723+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just when you think things cant possibly get any worse.. haha there i go, all over again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-815524057763186328?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/815524057763186328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=815524057763186328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/815524057763186328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/815524057763186328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-when-you-think-things-cant.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-4415850317023270476</id><published>2008-04-10T21:41:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:43:17.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well... has been an eventful few days? i don't know how to exlain this feeling of 'lost-ness'. it's a bit like getting caught in the middle of a cross junction and all sorts of emotions are rushing at you like the cars do, and all you can do is stand stunned, not sure how to react, unable to move out of harm's way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess it is not meant to be, slow as may be, there seems an air of hopelessness that try as i might, i can't find a way about. of course i'm glad things are the way they are, just that i guess it cant ever move out of the boundaries again. haha i need to say goodbye to that flame that flared for a little bit and work hard to quell it. clearly, we have very different ways of handling things, clearly there's nobody quite like me. and what i really need is someone just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;presentations were not good as we always had to compete with people who are above the average. but then again, maybe i need to wake up and start realizing that these people will always exist and maybe i need to become one of them. i need to work harder than ever before then to become the elite, because i cannot stand losing to them. jiayou amelia. =) i will not depend on other people for motivation, i will motivate myself because i cannot afford to lose motivation when i lose someone and we all know that we do you know, eventually lose people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;had a semi-serious talk with a friend. and it puts some stuff into perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a relationship, i guess both parties have to give and take. it's difficult though to achieve that balance? extremely difficult i would say. there will always be one party who is more insecure than the other. sometimes the tables turn and it's suddenly the other way around, but then, dont we all know that it's always the case? in econs, we know that for one country to have a trade surplus, another country must be suffering a trade deficit. isn't the underlying principle the same? in fact, isn't life so easily explained away. so simple to analyse. a healthy relationship should ideally have both parties completely at ease with one another and able to compromise and resolve issues. but really, is it that easy? both have to &lt;em&gt;want &lt;/em&gt;to do it. when i give in to you because i want to, i'm happy to do so. but the more this happens, the more it becomes taken for granted. the more you will expect from me. and then my giving in becomes an obligation. when something i used to do out of my own free will becomes something i absolutely &lt;em&gt;have &lt;/em&gt;to do, it becomes a chore, a burden. it becomes unfair. and so it goes. i couldn't ever take a situation like that i guess. it would scare me too much. the pressure of it all? i could implode from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's hard isn't it? to reach a middle ground?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i don't know. sometimes i think i want to wait. sometimes i think i couldn't bear to. sometimes i wonder what if things change, then what? sometimes i think i should take things slow, just as i said i wanted to, but sometimes emotions take no heed to what your heart says. then what should i do? it's a big fat knot of conflict. on one hand i want to love you, but i cannot because i know if i do it might end in tears, so i tell myself i cannot. but then, sometimes i think i truly might already do. then again sometimes, i think i never stopped, and other times i wonder if i honestly really do? yes i have thought about it in all these time, but it ended on such a note i thought it was all over, simply because i didn't think you cared. but maybe you do and i just didn't know it. your mind is totally unfathomable do you know? i never knew what you were thinking, and i don't know now. maybe it's best to give up while i'm still ahead. or maybe i've long fallen behind, but i just never knew. why can't i ever choose people who are simpler to like? anyhow, what do i know about love? nothing much really. i couldnt define it, i couldnt know if i've experienced it, if what i felt then was 'it', if what i feel now is 'it', i simply couldn't tell you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright. enough about that. =) tmr is evaluation!! let me pass please please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-4415850317023270476?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/4415850317023270476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=4415850317023270476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4415850317023270476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/4415850317023270476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/well.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3564510658162090901</id><published>2008-04-03T22:50:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:43:28.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>he's gone back, i think this will blow over. until the next time they decide to explode again then it all comes out again. but otherwise i think the skies are clearing for now. but of course we know how each time these things come out, each time people become a little more resentful. sometimes it can all fall apart. i'm counting on that not happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you all so much seriously, i dont know what i would have done without your support. cheryl for praying for me, thank you dear, sorry for making you worry. =/ shaun for staying on the phone even when all i did was cry, ken and youjin for listening when i thought i might go mad with grief, for counselling me, simply being there, weiheng too. thanks. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss sam so much and next sem i think i'll miss youjin too. it's like somehow we got to know each other a little more this sem even though we met since almost two years ago. haha how odd the circumstances that allow you to interact with different people and forge unlikely friendships. thank goodness cheryl is no longer going overseas. haha i guess you can have many friends but when it comes down to it, there are few who matter very much in the end. monstercandies, no matter how much they may annoy me sometimes, have been a big part of uni life and i guess we keep these things with us huh. even though people drift, but memories always remain. i know at least that for me, even twenty years later, on random trips to themarket to buy food for my kids, i will probably still think of the times we had so much fun, so much laughter, so much frustration and so much gossip.. haha oops i mean well, everything i guess. we've shared so much. remember when we used to split sides at business two sems ago while eating cheese sausages? we've changed since then, heck we hardly even go there tgt anymore, but we;ve come so much further too. i love you guys. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3564510658162090901?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3564510658162090901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3564510658162090901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3564510658162090901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3564510658162090901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/hes-gone-back-i-think-this-will-blow.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2171023519674456067</id><published>2008-04-03T12:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:43:37.934+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>maybe everything will be better now. maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2171023519674456067?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2171023519674456067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2171023519674456067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2171023519674456067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2171023519674456067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/maybe-everything-will-be-better-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3850555970814751263</id><published>2008-04-01T22:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:43:48.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>he put down on me. i never thought i'll cry so hard at a dial tone. he's my dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3850555970814751263?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3850555970814751263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3850555970814751263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3850555970814751263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3850555970814751263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/he-put-down-on-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8568415782163753801</id><published>2008-04-01T22:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:43:58.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the sky must have dropped. if there can be hail in singapore, i guess anything can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if something happens now. if it does. i think my world will crumble. please i've never asked this before. please pray for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8568415782163753801?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8568415782163753801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8568415782163753801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8568415782163753801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8568415782163753801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/04/sky-must-have-dropped.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1007157946991842920</id><published>2008-03-31T00:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:48:23.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>can existing faults&lt;br /&gt;be chased away like colts?&lt;br /&gt;can a person change&lt;br /&gt;will he become strange?&lt;br /&gt;can things that have gone away&lt;br /&gt;come back again someday?&lt;br /&gt;can friendships that have gone awry&lt;br /&gt;be repaired and all things sunny?&lt;br /&gt;can love lost&lt;br /&gt;be found, simply because?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1007157946991842920?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1007157946991842920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1007157946991842920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1007157946991842920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1007157946991842920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/can-existing-faults-be-chased-away-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2362175234537873787</id><published>2008-03-30T00:40:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:48:10.448+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;飞轮海 超喜欢你 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;超喜欢你心跳快得很可怕 呼吸大到有气压&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;手心冒汗可以浇花(可以浇花)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;生活变四格漫画 喜怒哀乐被放大&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;身不由己没有办法(没有办法)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;怎么可以这样 怎么可以这样疯狂&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;怎么可以这样&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;怎么可以这样爱超出了想像&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;就算世界与我为敌 我超喜欢你超喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;不能分离 我只相信这个真理&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;百无禁忌万夫莫敌 我超喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;我慢慢不能清醒 终于不想清醒&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;根本不用清醒这个恶作剧&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;想要对你说的话 身体由已替我表达&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;一旦爱了不能作假(不能作假)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;一度觉得很头大 怀疑细胞有偏差&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;可是爱了没有办法(没有办法)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;就是可以这样 就是可以这样疯狂&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;就是可以这样&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;就是可以这样爱超出了想像&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;就算世界与我为敌 我超喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;超喜欢你不能分离 我只相信这个真理&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;百无禁忌万夫莫敌 我超喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;我慢慢不能清醒 终于不想清醒&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;根本不用清醒这个恶作剧 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2362175234537873787?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2362175234537873787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2362175234537873787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2362175234537873787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2362175234537873787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5365332903865834538</id><published>2008-03-28T06:23:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:47:52.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i went to sleep at 6pm and was supposed to wake up at 9pm when my alarm clock rang but... i set the alarm clock at 9am = . = so i woke at 4am and went mental. hahaha i was supposed to submit my part of the proj ytd! omg. can i get anymore retarded pls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;drew looks at me, i fake a smile so he won't see&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;that i want and i'm needing everything that we should be.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5365332903865834538?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5365332903865834538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5365332903865834538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5365332903865834538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5365332903865834538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-went-to-sleep-at-6pm-and-was-supposed.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1681571970444796018</id><published>2008-03-27T10:01:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:47:39.939+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>and so you wonder: why would someone who is not exactly skinny want to bring attention to that very fact by wearing a T-shirt that says: "try to look! a new &lt;em&gt;neckless&lt;/em&gt;" to advertise her status?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH. that explains it. she has the characteristic pallor and stout shape of a ... . i guess i should not advocate bias based on nationality. but all the same, people ought to &lt;em&gt;read &lt;/em&gt;before wearing their shirts if only to avoid becoming laughingstocks no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1681571970444796018?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1681571970444796018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1681571970444796018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1681571970444796018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1681571970444796018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-you-wonder-why-would-someone-who-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-6206757832955398261</id><published>2008-03-19T22:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:47:30.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>in primary school, what with the endless bullying and running home in tears every other day, it never occurred to me before that perhaps the kids were jealous of me. it never occurred to me that there was anything they had to be jealous about. but on hindsight, maybe there were things. just like how when i became senior, and saw ellie being bullied, i'm ashamed to say i never stopped it. i liked her. but it was just easier to go with the crowd. i guess she was so sweet and precocious and she was really pretty too. horrible melissa ng peiwen, i dont think i'll ever forget her name, well she was the most vindictive bitch i ever knew. and we were only kids. i cant imagine how much trauma she must have inflicted on how many kids. but i never associated ellie's bullying with mine. maybe if i had, i wouldnt have let the inferiority complex develop to such an extent. if i had only seen, if i only knew what i know now. and i know i ought to be big and maganimous and &lt;em&gt;nice &lt;/em&gt;but i can't. you cant imagine the amount of agony when noone in the entire schoolbus wants to talk to you. all because some stupid jealous brat told them not to. and what she was jealous of? well i think i can guess. i just met this girl two years older than me who was my senior in primary school today. and i guess she brought back some memories. how before they left, primary school wasn't so hard to bear. and it was only after they left that it became really bad. it appears that i was doted upon and they all liked me. that must have ruffled some feathers. i cant believe it. it seems so childish to look at it from this perspective now. but jealousy from the attention i was getting made her do all that rubbish? wth. i wish i could have stoned her to death then. i really hate you. dont ever let me see you again. you're probably the one person i can safely say i will hate for the rest of my life. i wish you bad luck all your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-6206757832955398261?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/6206757832955398261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=6206757832955398261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6206757832955398261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6206757832955398261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-primary-school-what-with-endless.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8621877312733027733</id><published>2008-03-07T21:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:47:20.929+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>biochem test was ok, so now two tests down, 3 projs, 2 essays, 2 tests more to go. and not to mention the presentations and Professional comm's quizzes. darn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the way home from tuition today, i saw two dam cute kids. one boy one girl. haha they were disturbing each other, and then they were playing scissors paper stone, and they teased and laughed and played. and you wonder about the times when things were so simple and sweet, how did everything get so complicated? or maybe things didn't, but we did. we make things difficult for ourselves, we refuse to be contented or satisfied with what we have, we refuse to let ourselves be carried away with our emotions, the simple joys. we play mind games and in turn assume that others do too. but i don't really want to. why can't everything be clearer, more black and white? i dont like grey areas. everything is too uncertain. so prone to crumbling. it scares me a bit sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8621877312733027733?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8621877312733027733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8621877312733027733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8621877312733027733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8621877312733027733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/biochem-test-was-ok-so-now-two-tests.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-6459421356819048498</id><published>2008-03-02T01:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:47:13.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Teardrops On My Guitar -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see&lt;br /&gt;That I want and I'm needing everything that we should be&lt;br /&gt;I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about&lt;br /&gt;And she's got everything that I have to live without&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drew talks to me, I laugh cause it's so damn funny&lt;br /&gt;That I can't even see anyone when he's with me&lt;br /&gt;He says he's so in love, he's finally got it right,&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]&lt;br /&gt;He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star&lt;br /&gt;He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drew walks by me, can he tell that I can't breathe?&lt;br /&gt;And there he goes, so perfectly,&lt;br /&gt;The kind of flawless I wish I could be&lt;br /&gt;She'd better hold him tight, give him all her love&lt;br /&gt;Look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky cause&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Repeat Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light&lt;br /&gt;I'll put his picture down and maybe&lt;br /&gt;Get some sleep tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar&lt;br /&gt;The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart&lt;br /&gt;He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do&lt;br /&gt;He's the time taken up, but there's never enough&lt;br /&gt;And he's all that I need to fall into..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-6459421356819048498?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/6459421356819048498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=6459421356819048498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6459421356819048498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6459421356819048498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/03/teardrops-on-my-guitar-drew-looks-at-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-281391990980902220</id><published>2008-02-25T23:57:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:47:03.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it doesn't matter la. ultimately, being happy is still best i guess. i can't imagine if one day anyone around me, friend or foe, were to get killed somehow. i don't want to regret any feelings of animosity i had to him/her. therefore i hope to throw them all away. 看开了，开心就好。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-281391990980902220?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/281391990980902220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=281391990980902220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/281391990980902220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/281391990980902220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/it-doesnt-matter-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-2669054627424198832</id><published>2008-02-25T08:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:46:54.078+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i only wanted to see you happy for me. but you weren't.&lt;br /&gt;i only wanted you to keep your word. but you didn't.&lt;br /&gt;i only wanted a listening ear. but you weren't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;three people. have you all conspired to get me down and disappointed and sad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-2669054627424198832?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/2669054627424198832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=2669054627424198832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2669054627424198832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/2669054627424198832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-only-wanted-to-see-you-happy-for-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-6606939211452553468</id><published>2008-02-23T21:22:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:46:42.495+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hello, i need some help. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3/3 mon : EL2111 class test (15%)&lt;br /&gt;7/3 fri : LSM2101 CA1 (20%)&lt;br /&gt;13/3 thur : ES2007S survey report due (30%)&lt;br /&gt;19/3 wed : EL2111 essay (15%) + EL3880B essay (15%)&lt;br /&gt;24/3 mon : ES2007S assignment (15%)&lt;br /&gt;25/3 tue : LSM2102 CA (40%) [OMG]&lt;br /&gt;3/4 thur : EL3880B proj report (15%)&lt;br /&gt;10/4 thur : ES2007S presentation (15%)&lt;br /&gt;14/4 mon : ES2007S presentation (15%)&lt;br /&gt;17/4 thur : ES2007S quiz 2 (10%)&lt;br /&gt;18/4 fri : LSM2101 CA2 (20%)&lt;br /&gt;21/4 - 27/4 : recess week&lt;br /&gt;30/4 wed : EL3880B final (30%) + EL2111 final (50%)&lt;br /&gt;3/5 sat : LSM2101 final (60%)&lt;br /&gt;6/5 tue : LSM2102 final (60%)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know you're a geek when a) your tuition kid tells you so and&lt;br /&gt;b) you use your blog as a place to log your checklist of things to do. hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i blew more than a hundred bucks today on expensive clothes and a non-existent haircut. hahaha. tell me if my hair looks different ok? i'll be super happy. haha it was 18 bucks! RAWR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-6606939211452553468?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/6606939211452553468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=6606939211452553468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6606939211452553468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/6606939211452553468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/hello-i-need-some-help.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-1953316646062934097</id><published>2008-02-22T22:00:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:46:32.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;if you can't be bothered to ever consider the consequences of your actions, then you'd have to suffer them wouldn't you? it's plain logic. and it's your own fault.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha today was BUZZZZZZYYYYY. and i like my new tuition kid. she's real cute. haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-1953316646062934097?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/1953316646062934097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=1953316646062934097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1953316646062934097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/1953316646062934097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/if-you-cant-be-bothered-to-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7499706381197838753</id><published>2008-02-20T23:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:46:20.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>what was the thing chocolates trigger your body to produce again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh. endorphins. haha. i think i'm chock-full of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i'm still sad i didn't get ucla.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7499706381197838753?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7499706381197838753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7499706381197838753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7499706381197838753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7499706381197838753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-was-thing-chocolates-trigger-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3513774348020163020</id><published>2008-02-19T23:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:46:10.056+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>taking deep breathes. i didnt get UCLA. my student failed. i was thinking too much. arrgh. how depressing is today? thank goodness it ends in half an hour. =(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3513774348020163020?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3513774348020163020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3513774348020163020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3513774348020163020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3513774348020163020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/taking-deep-breathes.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-9070767292866502922</id><published>2008-02-18T22:10:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:45:58.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so now, four kids. dang the woman, tempting me with high pays that i cant resist. haha my timetable resembles a work schedule now. bleah. arghhhh. 9-5 and beyond on both ends everyday *pulls hair*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i figured you never get group project mates ever. even good people evolve into bad people while doing project. NUS should abolish project work. hahaha. nah i'm kidding. actually, no not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm desperately trying to fit as many extra tuition sessions into this week so that my recess week is ACTUALLY a recess week and i wont have to rush everywhere in the middle of the afternoons. consequently i have a week thats more packed than a tin of sardines. AND there's that quiz on thursday. let's hope it's an easy one. thank goodness i finished most of the stuff ahead of time. =/ *phew*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm over him =) this time it's true. hahahaha. i THINK i got a new crush. hahahaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just a few more days till UCLA results. fingers still crossed. and hope becky has good math and science results. cross fingers, toes, eyes, tongue, everything! i'm wearing a head full of crosses these days. i mean the braids. hahaha. so please please let her do well =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-9070767292866502922?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/9070767292866502922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=9070767292866502922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/9070767292866502922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/9070767292866502922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-now-four-kids.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5031578812466843869</id><published>2008-02-18T01:14:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:45:49.317+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the guy you like,&lt;br /&gt;he doesnt have his hair in spikes,&lt;br /&gt;nor does he dress all beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;but what do you care cuz he's still cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy you like,&lt;br /&gt;he's playful like a little tyke,&lt;br /&gt;and he doesn't have a romantic bone,&lt;br /&gt;but what can i say, you couldn't care none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy you like,&lt;br /&gt;he speaks with a funny voice all nasal-like,&lt;br /&gt;and wears glasses to boot,&lt;br /&gt;but you like him, and it matters not, the looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy you don't like,&lt;br /&gt;he treats you nice,&lt;br /&gt;and never pries,&lt;br /&gt;but oh, what do you know, you serve HIM spikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy you don't like,&lt;br /&gt;he buys you trinkets,&lt;br /&gt;and compliments you silly, you little poppet,&lt;br /&gt;but crikey, you sent him away on a bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy you don't like,&lt;br /&gt;he wears his heart on his sleeve for you,&lt;br /&gt;and never says 'peeh-eeeewwww' no matter what you do,&lt;br /&gt;but oh, what a pity, he'll never get a strike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you see, it's all dependent on your prior disposition to particular people. i guess first impressions count the most. and if you don't like a person, i don't suppose you could ever like him, no matter how nice he was, but if you like a person, i don't suppose that you ever really stop liking him if nothing drastic happened. and if you stop liking a person, i don't suppose you will ever like him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny the way things work cuz the nicest guy you never like, but the evil-est guy you'll always like. and it's funny how the correct road you'll never choose, but the rotten apple (out of a whole basket!) you'll definitely pick. and how no matter how many bad things a person does, you'll condone it if you like the person, friend family or just people you like, but no matter how still a person stays, you can still find fault in him as long as you dislike his character, personality, his face, his shirt that particular day or whatever other stuff. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life works in mysterious ways doesnt it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5031578812466843869?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5031578812466843869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5031578812466843869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5031578812466843869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5031578812466843869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/guy-you-like-he-doesnt-have-his-hair-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8906814522468434333</id><published>2008-02-14T22:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:45:39.484+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I must be mad, i'm going to accept yet another assignment. means going from no life to non existent life in the first place. tell me i'm going to make it please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UCLA will give us all an answer next week. i wonder when. time seems to positively CRAAAAAWWWWWLLLLLLLL when you're waiting for something to happen. but i guess i rather it crawls than fly. cuz currently i have loads to do none of which i have started on. lets see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. i need to start on my readings for 3880 which is a whole lot i neglected since dunno when =/&lt;br /&gt;2. i need to read 'much ado about nothing' which is so long and all in shakespearan language, it puts a strain on my reading capabilities. =/&lt;br /&gt;3. i need to start on my term papers for the two english modules, both of which are due on the same day. =/&lt;br /&gt;4. i have an ES2007 quiz next week.&lt;br /&gt;5. i need to prepare for the online project discussion on sunday.&lt;br /&gt;6. i need to complete my tutorials.&lt;br /&gt;7. i need to draft out my version of the intro and questionnaire for ES2007&lt;br /&gt;8. I need to write out the minutes of our online discussion.&lt;br /&gt;9. i need to REALLY catch up on my core modules which i havent touched.&lt;br /&gt;10. NOW, i absolutely need some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, right now whether or not i accept the assignment and whether they want to accept me, and whether or not i can join the orientation camps, blah blah, everything is hanging on whether or not i get to go to UCLA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sooooooooo, currently everything is stuck in limbo, i'm running around, arms akimbo, and lets hope things fall back into place soon. i cant take this much stress that much longer. hahaa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if it's feasible to just quit school and give tuition. ha. just a passing thought, dont take me seriously! haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8906814522468434333?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8906814522468434333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8906814522468434333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8906814522468434333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8906814522468434333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-must-be-mad-im-going-to-accept-yet.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5355834958070052247</id><published>2008-02-12T23:51:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:45:29.718+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I danced a little in the orchard this morning,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't hear the birds sing.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you see the fairies flitting,&lt;br /&gt;among the bumble bees a'winking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dived beneath the bottle-green,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't taste the freedom.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you swim across a blue-green land,&lt;br /&gt;while breathing from a yellow tank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wore a pouffy candy floss dress,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't see the glitter.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you dance a dance with me,&lt;br /&gt;whirling across the lacquered floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swam a little in the ocean,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't see the dolphins jump.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you admire the mermaids tanning,&lt;br /&gt;with their perfect coral earrings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shot a perfect ninety three,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't sense the pride.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you feel the adrenaline coursing,&lt;br /&gt;pumping pumping, through my veins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flew a little among the clouds,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't smell the shining sun.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you catch the rainbow's ends,&lt;br /&gt;where the gold resides just beneath the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I evaded sleep upon my bed,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't feel the wonderment.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you see the angel's feet a'dancing,&lt;br /&gt;petite and nimble and twinkling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept atop a sailing boat,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't feel the cozy chill.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you open your eyes to a sky of stars,&lt;br /&gt;so close you could reach and grab a bunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sang a silly song beside a clown,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't catch the mischief.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you enjoy his funny antics,&lt;br /&gt;while strolling along, licking candy sticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate a chocolate mansion,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't smell the richness.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you savour the dark chimney,&lt;br /&gt;as big, as big as a smiling infant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran amok among the meadow grass,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't see the butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;Nor were you tickled by the long long grass,&lt;br /&gt;while chasing a coloured diamond in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood still within a globe of snow,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't feel the swirling flakes.&lt;br /&gt;Nor were you soothed by the music a'tinkling,&lt;br /&gt;so sweet and soft and melodic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swung high on a wooden seat,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, you didn't hang beneath an old oak tree.&lt;br /&gt;Nor did you watch the world whoosh past,&lt;br /&gt;a myriad of colours, a kaleidoscopic vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes to a whole new world,&lt;br /&gt;you weren't there, to help me see.&lt;br /&gt;But now i've seen, here's a pair of magic glasses,&lt;br /&gt;put them on, we'll go together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fly among the sprites,&lt;br /&gt;Swim among the whales,&lt;br /&gt;Roll alongside the hedgehogs,&lt;br /&gt;Gambol among the puppies,&lt;br /&gt;Sing among the merfolk,&lt;br /&gt;Play with the pixies,&lt;br /&gt;and we'll crayon the world haphazardly,&lt;br /&gt;so splashes of colour fill every surface,&lt;br /&gt;and we'll dance together in this self-made nirvana,&lt;br /&gt;in time to a cheerful neverending song,&lt;br /&gt;we'll talk till sundown, about the simple joys,&lt;br /&gt;we will, put simply,&lt;br /&gt;enjoy life,&lt;br /&gt;you and me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5355834958070052247?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5355834958070052247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5355834958070052247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5355834958070052247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5355834958070052247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-danced-little-in-orchard-this-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8420582419178060441</id><published>2008-02-11T19:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:45:18.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>UCLA interview. it was ok, i hope i get it =) everyone was trying to outdo each other in a sense, cuz there's a 2.3 ratio for the people getting it to the people who dont. i figured i did ok? i'm not sure though, you never know.. it lasted a whole half hour and i was pretty surprised when i saw the time, considering it was only supposed to last for 10 minutes. haha. talk about overrunning!! but the interviewers were nice people and i'm glad about that. haha i quake under pressure. but adrenalin rushes are the norm when i have to speak to a group of unknown people even if the group is just 4 people. i mean, sure i'll speak, and it may even be natural, especially in class, when i have to participate or i dont get any points, but my heart is pumping like mad, and i feel as if i'm about to suffer a heart attack. haha. and i swear i feel so hot i want to explode with heat. hahaha. ANYWAY, it's over and i guess i'll just have to hope for the best =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saw jiamin, kk, and ck when i went over to forum. gave me a shock when i heard my name and saw jiamin through a hole in between two exhibits. hahaha. most hilarious thing in the world. anyway, i'm blur, so i'm not dao if i accidentally ignore people ok? =) i probably have tunnel vision or sth, only see fewwww things. hahaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cross all your fingers and hope i get into UCLA so i can get out of your hair for 7 weeks =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8420582419178060441?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8420582419178060441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8420582419178060441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8420582419178060441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8420582419178060441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/ucla-interview.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-3363741340765848848</id><published>2008-02-09T20:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:45:08.968+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's not so bad actually.haha i take back my words. its just that one particular person grated on my nerves that day. and made everything seem annoying and superficial haha.. but it's really not that bad. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-3363741340765848848?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/3363741340765848848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=3363741340765848848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3363741340765848848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/3363741340765848848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-not-so-bad-actually.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7247819379728971078</id><published>2008-02-07T22:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:44:56.788+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first day of chinese new year. haha things have been pretty uneventful in recent years, and i miss visiting with my maternal grandparents and relatives. but there has been no hosting of new year gatherings ever since many many years ago when... well, you know, life happens, or in this case, the converse happened, and things changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i wonder if it isnt just slightly hypocritical during chinese new year? cuz some people you just visit like once a year, and once every year you sit together and celebrate the festivities, but really, there's nothing in common, nothing shared. and sometimes, it's odd to see three people talking because you can see that they are all caught up in themselves only, each fighting to share their stories over the past year (only the good ones of course, or the ones which would earn them sympathy, what else?). so when you, as an outsider look at the three of them talking, you can distinctly tell that they aren't really listening to each other, merely nodding their heads appropriately and then listening for pauses where they can then cut in with their own similar experiences, thus successfully drawing the attention back to themselves. it's also the time where some people come together to showcase their latest acquisitions/conquests, be it gadgets and gizmos, results, jobs, 'might-be-future' spouses (some of which, i regret to mention seem to change faster than you can say 'what happened to whats-his-name?'), or, incredibly, even the latest &lt;em&gt;injuries&lt;/em&gt; (i know, it's pretty ridiculous haha)&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;etc etc etc. so sometimes you wonder if it's a bit absurd that you are still following traditions, but simply &lt;em&gt;for the sake of &lt;/em&gt;doing so. it seems, ever so slightly, pointless, i must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i may seem cynical in the above paragraph, but i'm really not. i only wish that these people will get together more often than the once-a-year they currently do. i wish things were not like that and situations were different. i wish people could learn the meaning of 'give-and-take' and 'blood is thicker than water' blah. but tough i guess, just as traditions are hard to break, so are emotional barriers, and i guess some of the older generation have too much history for there to be too big a change. it's pretty much an endless thing unless someone sees the light and tries to get the others to see the light. but it's a thankless task, and i can hardly see any of them doing so. so i guess we'll simply bumble along. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the funniest thing happened to day while i was teaching my family to play bridge (it took a darn long time, mind you) hahaha. so anyway, my dad called for &lt;em&gt;ace of spades &lt;/em&gt;as his partner, and during one particular round, i was forced to throw &lt;em&gt;ace of spades&lt;/em&gt;, and my sister trumped me with a 2 diamonds, she then gave me a cheeky smile and then after contemplating for a few seconds, her expression changed into one of uncertainty and THEN she said (the punchline) : 'i hope she's not my partner' hahahhahaa i hope you caught that? if not you can read it again. it was so funny i died laughing. of course you know i have nine lives, so here i am alive again and typing this. haha. it was super funny anyhow. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7247819379728971078?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7247819379728971078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7247819379728971078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7247819379728971078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7247819379728971078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-chinese-new-year-first-day-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-5877837913818649394</id><published>2008-02-06T15:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:44:46.894+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hahaha this baby blues comic had me laughing my head off, hammie is so darn cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry dont have a scanner so i'll just post the dialogue and leave the rest up to your imagination =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hammie: OW!! my elbow hurts!&lt;br /&gt;MOM: what happened?&lt;br /&gt;hammie: I fell off my bike and scraped my knee.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: your elbow hurts because you scraped your knee???!?&lt;br /&gt;hammie: No. My elbow hurts because i hit zoe with it for laughing at me when i fell off my bike and scraped my knee.&lt;br /&gt;hammie: But then she kicked me, so my rear end actually hurts more than my elbow...&lt;br /&gt;zoe (hopping around in the background): OW my foot hurts!&lt;br /&gt;MOM: I give up. (exasperated)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahha. ok well maybe it isnt that funny in words, you gotta see the comic. hahaha i so love the baby blues cartoonist. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, ok, i guess i am predisposed against people from a particular culture as people around me probably know, but i have my reasons. they ARE particularly &lt;em&gt;vulgar&lt;/em&gt; you have to admit, and seem to have no shame in expressing their vulgar selves in public, speaking in extremely loud voices and acting with absolutely no class. tasteless behaviour totally. well so i'm biased. i cant help it. haha they just irritate me all the time. and when i TRY to give them chances, they just blow it all by acting totally stupid again. oh wells. it's hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny the way you treat different people differently, the two people could do the exact same thing and you'll be totally disgusted by one, yet be totally tickled pink by the other. oh well. &lt;em&gt;c'est la vie. &lt;/em&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reunion dinner tonightttt. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somehow recently i've been having mental blocks where words that exactly represent what i want to say seem to dance just out of reach above my head. aha and i end up using ill-fitting words instead. oh dear, my vocab prowess is dwindling. =( hahahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-5877837913818649394?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/5877837913818649394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=5877837913818649394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5877837913818649394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/5877837913818649394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/hahaha-this-baby-blues-comic-had-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7396958170433400338</id><published>2008-02-04T21:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:44:36.565+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the idyllic lull of the waves still draws me like no other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whew, today was like a brrrrr day. hahaha. and that's the outcome of wearing long sleeves, but deciding that i'm too lazy to wear long pants too. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was also a day of mad rushes from one place to another apart from a 2 hour break in the morning, and it's supposed to be project meeting now but nobody's messaging me so i'm going to take the time to breathe.. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;valentine's day is next week, and the paraphernalia is all around. i'm booked =) by two incredibly great kids who i'm getting closer to and am glad about it. hahaha. it makes teaching easier in a way, but harder too cuz they try to slack. but oh wells. you win some, you lose some. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so it's the end for some and the beginning for others. it's really the end the end of this huge crush i've been harboring for what seems like forever. i only hope its not the end of the friendship. haha. nope i havent done anything overt, nothing big, nothing silly, so friends, please chill, i'm not stupid, but yea people are not stupid either, so they know and i understand and pretty much that's all and there's nothing and there will be nothing. =) it's a clean break a new start, a new friendship leaving behind what i've felt. i guess though, that there will always be a soft spot somewhere. hahahaha. can't be helped. but, but nothing. haha don't think too much =) bye bye. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hello, nice to meet you, i'm amelia. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7396958170433400338?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7396958170433400338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7396958170433400338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7396958170433400338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7396958170433400338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/idyllic-lull-of-waves-still-draws-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-8529524610702169024</id><published>2008-02-01T23:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:44:27.082+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>shopping is literally back breaking work, especially when you're walking around with a bag of bricks like mine. my back feels like it's broken in three parts. =( hahaha. but i got some nice stuff yay! =) and it was fun today, thanks monsters =) nice shopping wheeee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so today we saw the sloppy looking girl who the rest have been talking about since last sem.. hahah she does really look sloppy, except i have no idea why, her dress sense is bad, but not THAT bad, and she's not exactly ugly, but somehow... then i deduced that THIS is why teachers in primary school always told us we had to sit straight and maintain posture and all that... Omg. it actually matters, we see the real life example! haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i actually wanted to blog about sth else, but apparently my brain decided to quit for the night and i can't remember anymore, i think i'll go sleep. haa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh! ANYWAY, i'm so so so glad murphy's law did not work today. i mean like you know how when you've lost your way and think you should turn right and the correct way always ends up to be left? or how you wake up when your alarm clock rings at 6am, only to go back to sleep after you wash up cuz you think it's sunday but it's actually monday?! and you end up being late anyway despite having woken up at 6am? and how if you happen to see your ex whom you've never met since the day you broke up, but on the day you meet him on the streets you just have to be wearing your worst garb ever and have a giant pimple on your nose, in other words, looking the worst you could ever look? yea well.. hahah i'm so glad today wasnt murphy's day =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-8529524610702169024?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/8529524610702169024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=8529524610702169024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8529524610702169024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/8529524610702169024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/02/shopping-is-literally-back-breaking.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-387262261324938848</id><published>2008-01-31T00:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:44:18.201+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's always good to look on the bright side of things =) haha. so even though i'm in the midst of some stressful rubbish, i'm attaining a zen-like calm. hahaha nah i'm kidding. zen-like calm?! with all the EL stuff?? no way. hahaha and those people who dont like EL dont mock me or... I kill you! hahaha By the way, this is the funniest clip ever, please go look at it.. even my MOM laughed. haha it's really funny, thanks pighead for recommending it =) &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=Y-aTz6iNkvA&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=Y-aTz6iNkvA&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i recently met this old old old friend of mine who i've lost contact with for ages. and it's somehow a revelation. i mean, the two years she had over me seemed like so so much when i was only primary four haha. and it felt like she was an older sister somehow, but now, almost ten years down the road, she seems almost equal to me, not so much bigger anymore. it's just.. something that made me stop and reflect for a minute. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life sure is funny isn't it? it see-saws, up and down and up and down, and it's full of all it's funny quirks that sometimes makes you wonder if you should laugh or cry at those coincidences, whether you should take it as fate, or pure bad luck, or is everything just the same, it's just the flip sides you stand on that's all. and sometimes today you go down down down, and then tmr you go up up up, and at night you go up again and blah blah blah. so there's no such thing as a pit to that always goes deeper and deeper, because what goes up must come down and vice versa. and it is precisely that mechanism that enables us to enjoy the ups, so here's to the ups AND the downs =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cinematics tells me that there is a small ending, and then there is a larger ending. its much like life isnt it, every segment of my life is a different movie, and at the end of each segment, it's like the end of a story, but we start on the next one &lt;em&gt;immediatement, &lt;/em&gt;so there's never a boring time because they are simply the breaks where we rest and replenish for the next take, or for the filming of the next story =) so all these small endings paint a larger picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny how i can sometimes step back now and look at the big picture. only sometimes, sometimes i still fall into the depths of despair, but come on, who doesnt? haha i'm human! so. i THINK i've grown a little. let's hope i keep going =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like artsy subjects, they make me think =) i feel totally rejuvenated =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*edit*&lt;br /&gt;i suddenly feel like i'm too naive, i dont know half the things that are going on right beneath my nose. i really wished he hadnt told me, even though it's nothing to do with me cuz i'm not the one doing stupid things, its makes me feel suddenly weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doesnt this just EXACTLY illustrate how funny life is? i posted the top 10 minutes ago and 10 minutes later i feel not so happy anymore. dang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-387262261324938848?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/387262261324938848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=387262261324938848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/387262261324938848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/387262261324938848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-always-good-to-look-on-bright-side.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975846349293395477.post-7587139307648979605</id><published>2008-01-27T16:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:44:08.307+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well, i'm back, and with a vengeance i would say =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;missing sam this sem, haha hey that actually rhymes! she seems to be having loads of fun though, and i'm in a dillemma as to whether i should go for summer exchange. but that's not going to be cheap, what with all my spendings on knick-knacks that seemingly disappear the moment i get home. aha. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well that aside, i've still got to decide if i want to apply for the teaching award which will tie me to MOE for a good four years after i graduate (save me!). that may or may not be a bad thing since i'm still drifting like a piece of wood, albeit drifiting in the general direction of linguistics, but still... drifting. hahaha. so, in any case, cap must go up like crazy this sem and i'll sacrifice all my social life and whatnot. life resumes in the three month break =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, i sure miss the people i've been so used to hanging around. nixon's right. something's changed within the group. it's the scamp'07 that changed us, according to him, well i can't tell, but something has definitely changed. never mind though, windows of opportunities all around. =) i've changed too, something's odd, but i don't know what. BUT, i think it's a good something =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND today's my sister's birthday! no, contrary to some people's belief, i do not have an ulterior motive for being so nice to her, hahaha. so HAPPY 17TH BIRTHDAY if you do see this =) and even though it's so so so long ago, i want to thank the monsters for your birthday gift (i know i know, 1 whole month ago!), sorry i only just received it hahaha. YOUJIN AND CHERYL! the PUC is resurrected! let's study together!! =) central is alrdy full of crazy people mugging at this time!! we'll beat them this time round!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh man, speaking of which, how much am i going to miss whoever's going for exchange next?! =(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1975846349293395477-7587139307648979605?l=letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/feeds/7587139307648979605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1975846349293395477&amp;postID=7587139307648979605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7587139307648979605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1975846349293395477/posts/default/7587139307648979605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letsdanceatmidnight.blogspot.com/2008/01/well-im-back-and-with-vengeance-i-would.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07817789526187502749</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
