<?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-6647852</id><updated>2011-04-22T03:44:22.128+08:00</updated><category term='armyboy'/><category term='world weariness.'/><title type='text'>Drowning in Reality</title><subtitle type='html'>-</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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>123</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647852.post-5619798691109420441</id><published>2008-01-09T23:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T01:03:57.666+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='armyboy'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today's the day.&lt;br /&gt;there's this multitude of conflicting feelings in me right now.&lt;br /&gt;I really wonder if the level of interest reflects the importance of a person.&lt;br /&gt;If so, it is quite a moment of realisation to me.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't say I'm filled with trepidation at the fact mr choir boy is going to live army life which in fact he is actually okay wif. haha.&lt;br /&gt;I guess its the alienation from reality.&lt;br /&gt;Or rather, the rate at which painstakingly and carefully formed relationships/friendships disintegrate exponentially.&lt;br /&gt;Its just disturbing isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really praying that I'll get good buddies tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Buddies I can count on for life (or so I've heard).&lt;br /&gt;Its just not the same without those old friends. (as much as I don't show it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes in life when a sacred place of yours gets violated, it really affects you a lot because it becomes a scary place instead of a safe haven.&lt;br /&gt;And those who intrude upon these lands of others and cause invisible scars should burn.&lt;br /&gt;May the long arm of justice spank their asses and smite them with its wrath.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe their red stinging  (colouredbuttcheeks) would teach them to spare a thought for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time will pass, and the water that flows from time's fountain will slowly clean the wound. Scars may remain but what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger.&lt;br /&gt;Scars are there to remind us that we've been through it and we're stronger now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;Sorry I did the best I could. I'm okay with that side of yours, I just hope that it will not hurt that much after some time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#666666;"&gt;Stay strong =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-5619798691109420441?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5619798691109420441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=5619798691109420441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/5619798691109420441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/5619798691109420441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2008/01/todays-day.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-6516247182103957898</id><published>2008-01-03T22:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T00:20:29.187+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>autumn leaves.&lt;br /&gt;falling upon my window.&lt;br /&gt;how short a life you have, how fast your colours change.&lt;br /&gt;as you floated gently downwards, carelessly tossed around by the wind&lt;br /&gt;you bore such semblance to the past.&lt;br /&gt;then it wanders off to the other side.&lt;br /&gt;and you wish that if only there could be congruity between.&lt;br /&gt;maybe it never was fall over on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;only spring without shadows.&lt;br /&gt;i asked if the tree was too bare.&lt;br /&gt;you said it has to be that way.&lt;br /&gt;and so it was like the autumn fall.&lt;br /&gt;the end of the year and you said it was spring.&lt;br /&gt;I thought the winter had came but now the sun melted the winter gloom.&lt;br /&gt;trying trying is all I thought what's going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;but sometimes I really don't know what to believe in anymore.&lt;br /&gt;maybe its right. its only going to be winter and spring over at the other side.&lt;br /&gt;acceptance, where is it where you need it most.&lt;br /&gt;perhaps hidden among the labyrinth of jungles I would be mindlessly trudging along soon.&lt;br /&gt;now would it matter for the one in spring I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;maybe its pre-ns syndrome.&lt;br /&gt;it feels as though the whole world has moved on from you, i'm like this fool holding on to it.&lt;br /&gt;No wait, what's left to hold on?&lt;br /&gt;zzz&lt;br /&gt;one day i'm going to learn how to feel no hurt or pity when people leave.&lt;br /&gt;maybe tt will render me unable to cherish anyone while they're around too.&lt;br /&gt;but well, since when did it really matter to anyone anyways.&lt;br /&gt;hahas emo emo post.&lt;br /&gt;well time to go sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-6516247182103957898?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6516247182103957898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=6516247182103957898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/6516247182103957898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/6516247182103957898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2008/01/autumn-leaves.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-9087721456911144572</id><published>2007-12-23T01:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T01:35:18.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Enchanted really has some nice songs inside.&lt;br /&gt;'So Close' just plays itself over and over again in my head.&lt;br /&gt;no idea why, or maybe its cause it feels so familiar.&lt;br /&gt;2 long days of caroling and more to go.&lt;br /&gt;Carols are fun but it just doesn't feel that great as the years go by.&lt;br /&gt;Its weird being all chatty and high but yet deep inside, you know you're nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;Kinda tiring to try to be somewhere but nowhere haha.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe looking happy makes people think you're really happy eh =)&lt;br /&gt;Army looms ahead, although there's this sense of trepidation and uncertainty, I think I would rather go army then to stay here.&lt;br /&gt;Lost and not belonging anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well but singing really makes things easier I guess.&lt;br /&gt;At least I don't haf to think of who to talk to next, what to do or whether I should just give up and sit alone and then realise how nobody would actually bother to talk to you lol.&lt;br /&gt;Sad but yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;thankfully there's still you. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Close&lt;br /&gt;You’re in my arms&lt;br /&gt;And all the world is calm&lt;br /&gt;The music playing on for only two&lt;br /&gt;So close together&lt;br /&gt;And when I’m with you&lt;br /&gt;So close to feeling alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A life goes by&lt;br /&gt;Romantic dreams will stop&lt;br /&gt;So I bid mine goodbye and never knew&lt;br /&gt;So close was waiting,&lt;br /&gt;waiting here with you&lt;br /&gt;And now forever I know&lt;br /&gt;All that I wanted to hold you&lt;br /&gt;So close&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So close to reaching that famous happy end&lt;br /&gt;Almost believing this was not pretend&lt;br /&gt;And now you’re beside me and look how far we’ve come&lt;br /&gt;So far we are so close&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could I face the faceless days&lt;br /&gt;If I should lose you now?&lt;br /&gt;We’re so close&lt;br /&gt;To reaching that famous happy end&lt;br /&gt;And almost believing this was not pretend&lt;br /&gt;Let’s go on dreaming for we know we are&lt;br /&gt;So close&lt;br /&gt;So close&lt;br /&gt;And still so far&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A really nice song that melts anyone who listens to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-9087721456911144572?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/9087721456911144572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=9087721456911144572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/9087721456911144572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/9087721456911144572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/enchanted-really-has-some-nice-songs.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-3010896970166193806</id><published>2007-12-03T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T01:07:12.963+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='world weariness.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And so it went round and round again.&lt;br /&gt;I used to believe what goes around comes around.&lt;br /&gt;Then again, why do you get so disappointed time and time again when you realise that if you don't belong to someone else's world, no matter how much effort you put in, it just never comes back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so my bubble bursted right in my face once again.&lt;br /&gt;Its kind of too late, and something inside me tells me I'll regret it.&lt;br /&gt;People often forget what you have said to them or done for them, but they will never forget how you made them feel.&lt;br /&gt;What if you made them feel uncomfortable even though you've tried so hard to make it feel all so right?&lt;br /&gt;Its sad to realise that you're nowhere after so long, only to find out that the people you once strayed away from are the people whom will always care for you.&lt;br /&gt;Will it be too late to get it all back now?&lt;br /&gt;Had a good time with huping wanting yizha jerrold today.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you guys a lot =)&lt;br /&gt;Thank you edwin leonard wen qin too, although I never seem to show it, it seems like wherever I end up you guys are still around all the itme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been really busy preparing for so many millions of things till I don't even know what's going on in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Dealing with the pressure, and the stray festering emotions from the past just isn't that easy.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow moving on from and letting something that was such a big part of my life this year is just hard.&lt;br /&gt;Worse when now its just blatant isolation and alienation.&lt;br /&gt;Is it all just my fault?&lt;br /&gt;Doubt you'll ever be bothered anyways. (and still here am I being the world's greatest idiot by even thinking about it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything's just in a flurry, and in a flash my voice exam's gonna come and go and soon its going to be christmas time.&lt;br /&gt;Reading other people's blogs and all and how everyone's having the time of their lives just makes me realise that maybe Year 2s aren't feeling the same way at all.&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know if christmas this year and all the caroling will feel good anymore. Everything you see around you just kinda tells you that you're out of the main picture already.&lt;br /&gt;You're just another random person now. Far cry from what just seems like a short period of a few months ago.&lt;br /&gt;Why bother to work your way through into their lives now?&lt;br /&gt;Only to realise you're part of nobody's lives?&lt;br /&gt;That's me, I realised.&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere, but nowhere at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;All this time, being a little everywhere, but ultimately not part of anyone's lives.&lt;br /&gt;That's just pretty sad isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;You know it happens when you never show up in people's minds when they are asked to think of someone close.&lt;br /&gt;Could this be pre NS syndrome? haha&lt;br /&gt;When you worry about everything falling apart and you panic, trying to hold them together but you realise there are simply too many cracks.&lt;br /&gt;I'm coming to a standstill, to the split in the crossroads that has no direction signs.&lt;br /&gt;Is this all meant to be this way?&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to just relax and stay positive but all the signs just makes it all so daunting and discouraging.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just trying so hard not to think about it but sometimes its just worse when everything starts coming back and you crumble from the epiphany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for an emo post.&lt;br /&gt;I'll just have to decide if its worth it to go on.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry to those I'll disappoint but maybe this is what I should have done all along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-3010896970166193806?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3010896970166193806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=3010896970166193806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/3010896970166193806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/3010896970166193806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-so-it-went-round-and-round-again.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-5500327833342849048</id><published>2007-07-04T21:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T22:02:02.281+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finally 18. A step closer to being an adult.&lt;br /&gt;I had fun today I guess.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to so many people who wished me and even more to those who spent time and effort to give me a present =)&lt;br /&gt;I guess my birthday wish didn't exactly come true but I'm pretty relieved and happy today.&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU PEOPLE ! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know. it'll be really good if things would just finally be happy.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really tired of this and I just wanna feel happy and normal with you once again.&lt;br /&gt;If only you would know this and do something about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-5500327833342849048?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5500327833342849048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=5500327833342849048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/5500327833342849048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/5500327833342849048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/07/finally-18.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-8209884124845722964</id><published>2007-05-18T23:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T23:12:43.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Still waiting perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;Or should I have let go long ago already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOV' 07 ended on tuesday. I thought I would have cried, but I realised my heart was already hurt and it couldn't feel any more pain.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would feel like I was going to die when I know I'm going to part with the people I've gone through so much with.&lt;br /&gt;It didn't feel that bad, or perhaps I'm too caught up in myself to feel anything much.&lt;br /&gt;I know when I realise that they are no longer here and around my life, I will start to miss them and all the good things they have given me.&lt;br /&gt;Someway or another, I really enjoyed Vjchoir '06-'07 and I know a huge chunk of myself will be gone when I stop singing.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the emptiness is so overwhelming I found out that I don't really know myself after all.&lt;br /&gt;What I have been doing, what I've been thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You came, and I was overwhelmed to the point my life never was the same.&lt;br /&gt;But reality had to come crashing down on us, and perhaps we realise this was only a dream, at least it was a beautiful one to me.&lt;br /&gt;You've let go haven't you? You're just too afraid to tell me to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really tired. When I got back to school and I saw how much I missed, it almost feels as though I should give up studying cos I can't catch up anyways. I feel so tired and I don't feel like trying so hard anymore. Somehow its during these times when you just feel so alone and you just feel so terrible pushing on with daily life not knowing what you've been doing. I think I was so afraid of being lost I tried to hang on to people or things which couldn't be constant at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so stupid? Everytime I tried to hold on, it was gone.&lt;br /&gt;Why must everything around me fluctuate so much?&lt;br /&gt;Its hard to concentrate on my studies when everything around me isn't a constant and I don't have time to wait for that to happen.&lt;br /&gt;There's so much work for me to do now I just feel like knocking myself out and sleep for a year or smth.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think maybe I really need someone or people to bring me out and motivate me but I know tt's just running away and what the problem really lies is with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could only be really selfish, I really hope something life changing can happen to me right now and set me back on the right track.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-8209884124845722964?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8209884124845722964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=8209884124845722964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/8209884124845722964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/8209884124845722964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/05/still-waiting-perhaps-or-should-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-1070592504102305985</id><published>2007-04-26T21:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T21:34:21.585+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When a flower blooms, does it mean it is going to die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is just like a flower. You and me.&lt;br /&gt;its budding moment draws upon tenderness and happiness from those who await its bloom.&lt;br /&gt;There was love and care showered upon it, and it slowly grew in time.&lt;br /&gt;Yet in my reckless anxiety to see it bloom, I tried to open it with my bare hands to witness its beauty.&lt;br /&gt;All that happened after that was a strained flower that struggled to live and it made me feel so sad.&lt;br /&gt;What would have happened if I let it bloom by itself?&lt;br /&gt;It pains me so to know perhaps it is going to die.&lt;br /&gt;How can I keep it alive? I really wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever see this and you want to keep this flower alive. Please tell me so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-1070592504102305985?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1070592504102305985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=1070592504102305985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/1070592504102305985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/1070592504102305985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/04/when-flower-blooms-does-it-mean-it-is.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-8512843200629295705</id><published>2007-04-10T22:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T22:36:24.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>我们最想要的东西 只握在喜欢的人手上&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this light peeking at me in a little corner some time back.&lt;br /&gt;Its brilliant rays shot through the billowing black clouds that used to engulf my world.&lt;br /&gt;For once in my life, I feel happy =)&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems better now, although the perpetual pressure from results and homework weighs down and never ceases to suffocate.&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to realise how foolish I was, always wallowing in a world of misery and hate without truly cherishing what was important.&lt;br /&gt;Was I disillusioned? Or worse, am I being disillusioned now?&lt;br /&gt;可惜我却不知道你是否有同样的感觉&lt;br /&gt;But as much as I want my world to be rosy and all, it was only a dream.&lt;br /&gt;3 weeks, pretty short time left till choir SYF.&lt;br /&gt;It's really giving me mixed feelings right now. I really wish that this was just yet another obstacle that will eventually be conquered through preserverance and hardwork.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I know I take things for granted, thinking that at the end we're just gonna shine and dazzle.&lt;br /&gt;Would we still?&lt;br /&gt;I know I've took it for granted that everytime we perform we will be praised and we will do well. This was one of the reasons why I feel proud to be part of vjchoir despite all its shortcomings and flaws.&lt;br /&gt;I pray this will just be another useless worry of mine.&lt;br /&gt;Lets all work hard together Vjchoir =)&lt;br /&gt;and once again bask in the glory earned in sweat and pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;也不知自己有没有勇气知道&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a downward spiral.&lt;br /&gt;hopelessly falling into you.&lt;br /&gt;Yet i don't even know if you're there to catch me.&lt;br /&gt;Or is this just another result from me 'thinking too much'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-8512843200629295705?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8512843200629295705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=8512843200629295705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/8512843200629295705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/8512843200629295705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-found-this-light-peeking-at-me-in.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-4666918582487171261</id><published>2007-04-01T12:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T12:50:41.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>testing =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-4666918582487171261?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4666918582487171261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=4666918582487171261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/4666918582487171261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/4666918582487171261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/04/testing.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-1866556820871142879</id><published>2007-02-22T22:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T22:31:59.774+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Something's wrong, really wrong. Is it the people? or is it just me? &lt;/p&gt;在每个人的一生中，会遇见无数的人。 人来人往，能遇到一个陪伴你几十年的人少只有少。 &lt;p&gt;Year 2 has started, started a long time ago to be exact. I'm still the same, floating in the memories of year 1 and refusing to move on. I know I haven't got what I wanted, and the cracks I thought I spent so much time and effort to cover up are starting to show again. I feel so distracted, I can't even sit down properly to do a simple assignment and its killing me when my heart is being torn into 2. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just when I thought what you all said was true, that there was no barriers, that all wasn't what I had in my mind, I've come to see it was all just a delusion. I'm tired, did I tell you that? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In a place where you know no one, you feel all so lost and lonely. You struggle through, trying to find some companions to help each other along. You've made a mistake, and suffered greatly for it, spending the rest of the year trying to clean up after that mess. Why, must people know each other, share their troubles and share a spiritual bond ONLY to drift apart and leave when everything's over? Yes we get to know people very quickly, progressing from mere acquaintances to close friends in a matter of months. Are all our hearts so small that we have to remove people who are less close to us when we meet newer, more interesting people? I guess I've been pretty foolish. All I thought I wanted was to find some good friends just like I've always been, and I thought being nice to people was the way to go. I've talked to many, known many, but none of them stayed. I guess I've come to realised people only come to me when the need help and the person/people they really want care and concern from are not available. You said time will solve everything. But after so long, so much bonding, all I get is weird stares being treated as totally transparent when I'm not needed. To some extent, even though I hate to say it, I feel hurt. Hurt that after so long, I have to admit that I failed to be part of you guys. Hurt that after so long, I still know that you all don't want me to be there no matter how you guys always try to include me. I'm lost, and I know I'm trying too hard to find some friends whom I can really just STOP having to spend so much effort to keep. Friends are people who keep you in their hearts spiritually even when you all aren't hanging out. Everyone seems to have found theirs, some in the process, some perhaps just as lost as I am. Why does all of this have to happen? What am I looking for? I really can't figure it out. Is it just like everyone else? To feel wanted, to be cared for constantly and to know you belong to somewhere, somehow, no matter how small it is. Is it because I'm trying too hard that I've turned so superficial, so irritating and lowly? Why can't someone just tell me and I'll just accept that fact that I've failed and I'm just meant to be in solitude. Perhaps we should all stop pretending to care and reach out when we never really wanted to do so in the first place.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;我真的觉得很累。 为什么我会变得如此的悲惨。 有时候我真的希望这一切能回到起点。 我再也不要我所拥有的这一切。 如果要成功必须陷入悲痛与复杂的世界 我宁可放弃。 我只要做个简单的人。 如果有机会，能让我从新在开始那该有多好。 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;我要逃避这一切，在一个无烦恼与悲伤的世界休息。 原来要在这个世界生存是多么的困难。 人生开始失去了方向。 人们也开始慢慢的离开。 难怪古人成说过我们都要珍惜能让我们快乐的一切。 当你得不到一个如此简单的东西，心中真的是无比的痛苦。&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;我要快乐。 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-1866556820871142879?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1866556820871142879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=1866556820871142879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/1866556820871142879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/1866556820871142879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/02/somethings-wrong-really-wrong.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-116861093817689990</id><published>2007-01-12T21:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T22:08:58.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Moments of silence, moments of solitude.&lt;br /&gt;Moments where one has to fight their own battles.&lt;br /&gt;Alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No two person can feel or see the same as one person.&lt;br /&gt;It isn't an act of isolation, or seclusion.&lt;br /&gt;It is a personal experience of joy and misery which makes little sense sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe even none as a personal battle can only bring meaning to one's own self.&lt;br /&gt;Others can sing praises or say your little prayers but none can fight the battle for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude." - Henry David.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When do we actually see the real side of every single one of us?&lt;br /&gt;Many times in our lives we think we understand each other, or know each other, when in actual fact the truth tells otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;Ever since we were born, or maybe when we start to have some understanding of this world, we conjure this mask to hide ourselves from reality.&lt;br /&gt;The you and me we see, are they really what they seem to be?&lt;br /&gt;What we show others are what we want others to see.&lt;br /&gt;It is a persona we find appealing.&lt;br /&gt;Be it a gentle demure lady, or a nice friendly guy.&lt;br /&gt;We want others to view us as the above personas because we ourselves like them.&lt;br /&gt;But we all know the only time we can let down our guard and express our true feelings and thoughts is when we are alone.&lt;br /&gt;Where nobody is there to judge you.&lt;br /&gt;Where nobody is there to criticise and insult you.&lt;br /&gt;That is why amongst all our struggles with friendships, family, love&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, we all find that the best friend in life is still undeniably solitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-116861093817689990?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116861093817689990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=116861093817689990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/116861093817689990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/116861093817689990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2007/01/moments-of-silence-moments-of-solitude.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-116715545521483919</id><published>2006-12-27T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T01:50:55.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Someway or another, Christmas has started to lose its meaning already.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, when you look back and expect everything to be just as beautiful as they once were, you find that they aren't anymore, and might never be anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I had a caroling christmas this year, just like last year. It was fun, knowing juniors and singing the hardest I could.&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad that things have been better, and everything looks happier once again.&lt;br /&gt;I hope so at least. Perhaps when your heart has been stabbed and hurt so many times before, emotions just doesn't come to you the natural way like they used to.&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought I could finally take a breather, more things start to head this way.&lt;br /&gt;School's starting soon, the very thought of it just scatters my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;R papers, surviving in school, friends, orientation, choir.&lt;br /&gt;So many things to juggle at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;It's so hard not to break down sometimes and reach out for help.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, would it matter if you did cause nobody will stop by to help.&lt;br /&gt;This year has been so much of a rollercoaster, my life will never ever be the same again.&lt;br /&gt;Sorrow. Joy. Anger. Pain.&lt;br /&gt;The multitude of emotions I've felt this year simply amazes me everytime I look back at it.&lt;br /&gt;Please, may the new year be a good one.&lt;br /&gt;Inside, something says to me that it cannot take another year of setbacks and pain.&lt;br /&gt;I really wish to myself sometimes that someone could just pick me up from this mess and point the way to walk.&lt;br /&gt;I am sick and tired of being perpetually lost, searching in the endless unknown to understand this life and finding a way.&lt;br /&gt;I just can't do it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have the strength to go on.&lt;br /&gt;What's worse if that you don't even have a chance to give up.&lt;br /&gt;So what do I do now?&lt;br /&gt;How I wish Santa existed and I could wish for an answer for my present this year.&lt;br /&gt;Well this may be late but yeah. Merry Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;May everyone have a happy new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be nice if the people you really treasured felt the same way as you did sometimes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-116715545521483919?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116715545521483919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=116715545521483919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/116715545521483919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/116715545521483919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/12/someway-or-another-christmas-has.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115695728661540655</id><published>2006-08-31T00:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T01:01:26.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In Loving Memory &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really hurts to know how fragile life is.&lt;br /&gt;One moment you are alive and kicking, going on with life just like every other day.&lt;br /&gt;Yet deep inside, beyond that mask you chose to hide your pain behind, you feel so trapped and hurt you're bleeding to your death.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody could understand the indescribabe agony, nobody asked why.&lt;br /&gt;Your quiet smiles and gentle ways were etched in the everyone's minds.&lt;br /&gt;A pity, it really is, to know that all of these will only be part of our memories.&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine, what you must have felt.&lt;br /&gt;To decide that death was a better way out.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't understand, what conflicts raged ever so violently in you.&lt;br /&gt;It really hurts me, that I couldn't have known you better.&lt;br /&gt;To know you used to be just around all of us, yet we didn't take the chance to know you better.&lt;br /&gt;The news hit me, and it sunk me like a ship which collided with an iceberg.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't understand why it hurts so much when I'm not even close to you.&lt;br /&gt;The harsh reality must have been too overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;To the extent that you could actually muster the courage to do such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;Even though you can no longer see this now,&lt;br /&gt;I really do hope you know your friends will miss you dearly.&lt;br /&gt;Even mere acquaintances will observe a moment of silence for you.&lt;br /&gt;Someone please stop the Angel of Death.&lt;br /&gt;Stop taking away the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;Why are there so many deaths lately?&lt;br /&gt;It really shudders me to know my life could just end in an instant.&lt;br /&gt;Even scarier to know that when it happens, I can no longer hear the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;That I will be forgotten in years to come.&lt;br /&gt;That I could no longer see the faces of my family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;Such intense grief and sadness.&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;I really don't understand why you chose to end your pain this way.&lt;br /&gt;Now nothing can be reversed, nothing can be done.&lt;br /&gt;You chose your path, even though it devastated everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;May you rest in peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115695728661540655?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115695728661540655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115695728661540655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115695728661540655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115695728661540655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/in-loving-memory-it-really-hurts-to.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115687254496567989</id><published>2006-08-30T01:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T01:29:05.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today I learnt how a great country like the USSR was destroyed by the very people who wanted to preserve it.&lt;br /&gt;It's such a illogical thing, how people insist of having fame and glory as well as absolute control even at the expense of the very country they are working for.&lt;br /&gt;I really wonder why when men was created, this element of pride, jealousy and greedy was given to all of us.&lt;br /&gt;Just look at all the wars and deaths, some by cruel dictators, some by conflicts that they never contributed towards.&lt;br /&gt;Countries could have prospered, people could have lived better lives and many could have their lives spared.&lt;br /&gt;All because of egos, all because of pride and glory and greedy.&lt;br /&gt;Everyday you see people around you swearing that they will be fair and they will do their tasks well. But just like the Soviets, all they really wanted was to gain riches and glory, to be worshipped at the expense of the common people.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I see 'Soviet Unions' sprouting all over the place in school.&lt;br /&gt;There is no point being truely kind and altruistic anymore isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;People just step ALL over you, pretending to appreciate your kindness.&lt;br /&gt;It's so horrific, how people think that they are benefitting everyone by making themselves look so high and mighty.&lt;br /&gt;Real leaders are not leaders who strive to be popular and well liked.&lt;br /&gt;Real leaders do things that genuinely benefits everyone, without hankering over fame and recogniction for things they do.&lt;br /&gt;History's so amusing, especially when you see the same things repeating around you in the present times.&lt;br /&gt;A clown can only amuse for so long, after which it becomes a puppet that continues to dance, but ceases to entertain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;* we're heading towards doom, while you stubbornly continue to think you're the best in the world. We are not your slaves.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115687254496567989?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115687254496567989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115687254496567989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115687254496567989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115687254496567989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/today-i-learnt-how-great-country-like.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115531689141452006</id><published>2006-08-12T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T01:21:34.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I live in an world full of ironies and complexities I cannot comprehend.&lt;br /&gt;Our lives are just big ironies themselves.&lt;br /&gt;We long to be rich and give up our health, yet we end up spending all our money to be healthy again.&lt;br /&gt;We dream of the future so much yet when we get there, we dream of going back to the past.&lt;br /&gt;We all want to grow up, to gain freedom, only to long to be a kid once again when you are 17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this little evil that festers within each and every one of us. This thing that turns us all into cold mindless heartless robots.&lt;br /&gt;How do you feel when one day, you walk to your friends, hoping to be greeted and all, but all you got was cold awkward stares at you.&lt;br /&gt;How would you feel if you tried to grab hold of their attention, you try to talk to them, but all they did was to make you feel invisible.&lt;br /&gt;So much so that I really wished I was.&lt;br /&gt;All humans are born with emotions, but sometimes we get so self centered that we only focus on trying to make ourselves happy, building our happiness upon other people's miseries.&lt;br /&gt;Now my definition of a friend is all fuzzed up.&lt;br /&gt;Would you consider such people your friend?&lt;br /&gt;What do you do? Of course you try to run away from them.&lt;br /&gt;you walk away, only to realise people probably never noticed or never bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How would you feel if this was your CCA?&lt;br /&gt;A place where you were supposed to find your closest friends and have lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it doesn't actually matter, because you probably are having too much fun excluding people to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why have we all turned into such monsters?&lt;br /&gt;Monsters so overwhelmed and self absorbed in their selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;Worse still, some of us preach about the wonderful ways of God and his teachings and yet behave in such a pretentious manner.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it was the bane of intelligence, the ability to think and act for ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;We manipulate things to our advantage, we always try to get the best for ourselves, sacrificing others.&lt;br /&gt;Everyday all these horrors spin me round and round, to the extent of distorting what's right and what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I really hate it, I really can't deny it.&lt;br /&gt;What's the worse thing about everything, is that it only takes a small amount of effort on everyone's part to make things a whole lot better.&lt;br /&gt;What's so difficult about STOP trying to form cliques and shut other people out?&lt;br /&gt;What's so difficult about giving a little care and concern for others everyday in our little ways?&lt;br /&gt;I guess the most difficult thing for all of us, is to admit that we are all behaving in such a selfish way.&lt;br /&gt;To admit we have turned into these monsters.&lt;br /&gt;To know that we shouldn't go on thinking we are always right.&lt;br /&gt;Easy to say, but nearly impossible to knock them into people's heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I realised it wasn't VJ who had a big problem.&lt;br /&gt;It was the choir all along.&lt;br /&gt;But all day we put on our masks and parade like clowns.&lt;br /&gt;I really love singing, I really do.&lt;br /&gt;But tell me how to keep going on pretending I'm alright and happy.&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing's a bubble of lies already,&lt;br /&gt;but when will it pop?&lt;br /&gt;I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;Probably never, since everyone's having such a happy and fun time in choir every single day.&lt;br /&gt;oh well.&lt;br /&gt;"I love vjchoir =)"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115531689141452006?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115531689141452006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115531689141452006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115531689141452006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115531689141452006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-live-in-world-full-of-ironies-and.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115497002267650434</id><published>2006-08-08T00:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T14:41:37.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was one of the worst days of my whole JC life.&lt;br /&gt;I have just been traumatised by a series of extremely unfortunate events.&lt;br /&gt;Well I stayed over the airport on sunday night cause chair chair's flying off to uk. Just when I was on the last 27 bus bound for e airport, I realise I forgot to bring the apple muffins i baked for her and i ran home cos there was no bus. Then I wasted $$ to take a cab.&lt;br /&gt;well that wasn't that infuriating though, I actually forgot to bring my EOM and I got screwed up damned badly, and my father couldn't find the FILE to send it over to me. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;Pw is the scariest subject on earth I swear.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I really hate myself for being forgetful, its like you don't have an inkling that you actually forgot somethings when you're tired and you get screwed real bad for it.&lt;br /&gt;Now my wallet's got a hole, and I am seriously traumatised.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm alright now =)&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Peiling and sharon for listening me out. hahas it helped loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I heard over the TV that more teens are crumbling understand stress, somehow i really can picture myself one day, perhaps mad or depressed hiding under the blanket and trying to run away from reality. Is reality that tough? Or is it our 'wonderful' and 'efficient' education system that is turning reality into such a nightmare?&lt;br /&gt;It's really really really very very very tiring serious...&lt;br /&gt;My homework's a mess, everyday I come to school and I have to handle with social problems, academic, what nots.&lt;br /&gt;Must everything be so complicated in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't everything be like the past?&lt;br /&gt;nothing to lose, nothing to hide.&lt;br /&gt;For a moment I felt so stressed up that I just felt like bursting, like there are so many things and yet you are helpless as you watch the pile of work crushing you flat.&lt;br /&gt;I even dream walking to school and attending lessons where everything is learnt with minimal stress, where everyone is friendly and warm, where meaningless rivalry and boundaries never existed at all.&lt;br /&gt;It's been so long since I've came, and I'm still struggling to find a source of warmth before I turn into ice.&lt;br /&gt;I do feel tinges of it here and there, and I hope that they are not another ignis fatuus again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need a break, national day's coming. But something tells me the fatigue and 'deadness' in me need more than just a week to dispel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115497002267650434?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115497002267650434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115497002267650434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115497002267650434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115497002267650434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/today-was-one-of-worst-days-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115367101643468655</id><published>2006-07-23T22:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T02:41:12.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3304/212/1600/DSCN0542.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3304/212/320/DSCN0542.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fireworks are such beautiful things.&lt;br /&gt;It's such a splendid sight to see them whizzing high up into the night sky,&lt;br /&gt;bursting into a myriad of beautiful colours and patterns.&lt;br /&gt;The exhiliration and the impact is just out of this world.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I miss firework hunting somehow, I haven't even caught a single display of fireworks AT ALL! how pathetic is that. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;I could still remember how I'll always go with my friends and squeeze with the huge crowds just for this brief moment of heaven.&lt;br /&gt;Sadly fireworks are so short.&lt;br /&gt;Must everything so beautiful die off so quickly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been reading my archives lately, and I just realised how deep inside me I still can't move on from secondary school. It's just stuck inside.&lt;br /&gt;There was a period of time where I really really missed xinmin to the power of infinity.&lt;br /&gt;I'm still ever so proud of it. People rarely hear of us, rarely know about us, but yet we are climbing up ever so steadily that we are already ranked among the top schools in singapore already.&lt;br /&gt;The thing so special about everyone at Xinmin was that we were all proud of being normal and neighbourhoody, simple and casual.&lt;br /&gt;No negative competitions, minimal backstabbing and those scheming conflicts , gangsters with tucked out shirts.&lt;br /&gt;Well although those sloppy looking people actually make themselves look like low class students, the funny fact is our standing is even higher then some of the 'famous schools' who would boast all day long.&lt;br /&gt;Life really was great.&lt;br /&gt;But I've been so far away from tasting it that I'm starting to forget what a good life is like.&lt;br /&gt;I know its not possible to deny the present and abhor the future.&lt;br /&gt;But after these long months I've come to accept the fact that this is it.&lt;br /&gt;I am stuck in VJC and choir and it will never change.&lt;br /&gt;No matter how often I go back to Xinmin,&lt;br /&gt;No matter how often I go back to teach Xinmin chorale,&lt;br /&gt;the fact still remains that I'm an EX-xinmin student.&lt;br /&gt;Time is such a amazing thing, it can heal all wounds, but it can take away all the things you were so dear to.&lt;br /&gt;Juniors back at xinmin that I'm closer to are graduating, and sooner or later I'll cease to know any of the students in the Student Leader Board and Choir, and they will mean nothing to me.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow the best conclusion I can come up with is to let all the wonderful things back then be a memory I can constantly remember and smile upon.&lt;br /&gt;Some things are best left as momeries too, cause when you revisit the actual thing again, you may no longer feel the same way as you did and you'll end up destroying the original experience.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I used to think, if the present situation is so back, why shouldn't I just run back and hide at the safe harbour I grew up in.&lt;br /&gt;But as the saying goes, A ship will never know its true worth when it is safe in the habour.&lt;br /&gt;I'm even tired of running back all the time, everyone in jc is doing it.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone's running away from reality one way or another for a happier place.&lt;br /&gt;yet the irony is that we all make ourselves more miserable in the end, all tired and depressed.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really stuck, I can't keep running back to my past, yet when I try to create a wonderful present and future, everyone's just closed up in their own world just like I was/did/am.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wished answers would just present themselves before me.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing I do seems right, NOTHING.&lt;br /&gt;It comes to a point when you're so frustrated that you can't do anything, and yet you're so pissed off doing nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I guess changes have to be worked at.&lt;br /&gt;But I have to really tidy myself up and stop running away from reality.&lt;br /&gt;Which is really really difficult for that means I have to come out of my comfort zone.&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute, do I even have a comfort zone in school in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe. No point finding one since everyone's stuck in their own zones and refuse to reach out for those still lost.&lt;br /&gt;When did people truly understand and bother about people who are miserable and lost and lonely?&lt;br /&gt;We're all just selfish cruel people who would rather do nothing so that we can stay in comfort.&lt;br /&gt;Now I just feel like findin my own comfort zone and ignore everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe its not such a good thing to do after all.&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute, what can I even do?&lt;br /&gt;I'm one of those lost ones, looking over at a world full of laughing people with their own friends while you just walk around aimlessly, praying someone will find you and take you in.&lt;br /&gt;Damned us all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115367101643468655?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115367101643468655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115367101643468655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115367101643468655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115367101643468655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/fireworks-are-such-beautiful-things.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115357235835419681</id><published>2006-07-22T20:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T20:45:58.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.inspirationalstories.com/cgi-bin/printer.pl?761"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The boy under the tree.&lt;br /&gt;In the summer recess between freshman and sophomore years in college, I was invited to be an instructor at a high school leadership camp hosted by a college in Michigan. I was already highly involved in most campus activities, and I jumped at the opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;About an hour into the first day of camp, amid the frenzy of icebreakers and forced interactions, I first noticed the boy under the tree. He was small and skinny, and his obvious discomfort and shyness made him appear frail and fragile. Only 50 feet away, 200 eager campers were bumping bodies, playing, joking and meeting each other, but the boy under the tree seemed to want to be anywhere other than where he was. The desperate loneliness he radiated almost stopped me from approaching him, but I remembered the instructions from the senior staff to stay alert for campers who might feel left out.&lt;br /&gt;As I walked toward him I said, "Hi, my name is Kevin and I'm one of the counselors. It's nice to meet you. How are you?" In a shaky, sheepish voice he reluctantly answered, "Okay, I guess" I calmly asked him if he wanted to join the activities and meet some new people. He quietly replied, "No, this is not really my thing."&lt;br /&gt;I could sense that he was in a new world, that this whole experience was foreign to him. But I somehow knew it wouldn't be right to push him, either. He didn't need a pep talk, he needed a friend. After several silent moments, my first interaction with the boy under the tree was over. At lunch the next day, I found myself leading camp songs at the top of my lungs for 200 of my new friends. The campers were eagerly participated. My gaze wandered over the mass of noise and movement and was caught by the image of the boy from under the tree, sitting alone, staring out the window. I nearly forgot the words to the song I was supposed to be leading. At my first opportunity, I tried again, with the same questions as before: "How are you doing? Are you okay?" To which he again replied, "Yeah, I'm alright. I just don't really get into this stuff." As I left the cafeteria, I too realized this was going to take more time and effort than I had thought -- if it was even possible to get through to him at all.&lt;br /&gt;That evening at our nightly staff meeting, I made my concerns about him known. I explained to my fellow staff members my impression of him and asked them to pay special attention and spend time with him when they could. The days I spend at camp each year fly by faster than any others I have known. Thus, before I knew it, mid-week had dissolved into the final night of camp and I was chaperoning the "last dance." The students were doing all they could to savor every last moment with their new "best friends" -- friends they would probably never see again.&lt;br /&gt;As I watched the campers share their parting moments, I suddenly saw what would be one of the most vivid memories of my life. The boy from under the tree, who stared blankly out the kitchen window, was now a shirtless dancing wonder. He owned the dance floor as he and two girls proceeded to cut up a rug. I watched as he shared meaningful, intimate time with people at whom he couldn't even look just days earlier. I couldn't believe it was him. In October of my sophomore year, a late-night phone call pulled me away from my chemistry book. A soft-spoken, unfamiliar voice asked politely, "Is Kevin there?"&lt;br /&gt;"You're talking to him. Who's this?"&lt;br /&gt;"This is Tom Johnson's mom. Do you remember Tommy from leadership camp?&lt;br /&gt;The boy under the tree. How could I not remember? "Yes, I do," I said. "He's a very nice young man. How is he?"&lt;br /&gt;An abnormally long pause followed, then Mrs. Johnson said, "My Tommy was walking home from school this week when he was hit by a car and killed." Shocked, I offered my condolences.&lt;br /&gt;"I just wanted to call you," she said, "because Tommy mentioned you so many times. I wanted you to know that he went back to school this fall with confidence. He made new friends. His grades went up. And he even went out on a few dates. I just wanted to thank you for making a difference for Tom. The last few months were the best few months of his life."&lt;br /&gt;In that instant, I realized how easy it is to give a bit of yourself every day. You may never know how much each gesture may mean to someone else. I tell this story as often as I can, and when I do, I urge others to look out for their own "boy under the tree."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115357235835419681?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115357235835419681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115357235835419681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115357235835419681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115357235835419681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/boy-under-tree.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115339287488423467</id><published>2006-07-20T18:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T20:50:22.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>horrible horrible horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well at least all my mid year results are all back.&lt;br /&gt;When mrs chan mentioned this that someone got SUCCESS or smth like that for their results i thought it was me! lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm not too far off. Lemme think, I think I got SUCCED or smth like that. What bad results... I think I still fail overall since my grades are all on the low end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many things remain bottled inside.&lt;br /&gt;It's just so difficult to release them.&lt;br /&gt;It's not something that saying it out would make me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course surprisingly I must thank 06A13!&lt;br /&gt;even though I felt extremely detached from it at first but I'm slowly startin to get to know the guys better =)&lt;br /&gt;hahas I'm actually starting to look forward to bridge sessions with yixiong,zach,harry and jonny bravo! =)&lt;br /&gt;Even though our results are freaking freaking bad, I hope its time we all 'wake up our ideas' and remove all boundaries and differences between us and strive together as a class.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I feel that its time we stop crowding around in our own comfort zones and reach out to others.&lt;br /&gt;Can we be the most outstanding arts class? hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have to put in way more effort in my work myself I guess. I've wasted enough time moping and getting myself all vexed up at all the many things that I can't seem to get right.&lt;br /&gt;If we're meant to be strangers and all. We will no matter how I try.&lt;br /&gt;Such things are mutual and it will forever remain so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers for a bright future =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115339287488423467?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115339287488423467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115339287488423467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115339287488423467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115339287488423467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/horrible-horrible-horrible.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115323159522111151</id><published>2006-07-18T20:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T22:06:35.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I caught a glimpse of a hope not too long ago.&lt;br /&gt;A shimmering beam of light, gentle and warm.&lt;br /&gt;It gave me hope, telling me all is not lost.&lt;br /&gt;It gave me strength, gently pushing me to go on.&lt;br /&gt;It gave me wisdom, showing me how narrow and foolish I had been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I could bask in it for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;I thought happiness finally came around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought I didn't have to go back into isolation,&lt;br /&gt;the truth has to reveal itself and all the initial evaporated as quickly as it came.&lt;br /&gt;Why? Why has this all have to happen?&lt;br /&gt;Was it that hard? It wasn't too much to ask wasn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Advertisement : Xinmin will be organising a grand concert called e xinmin story on 3rd aug 2006, kallang theatre. Those interested please approach me as seats are allocated de. 12 bucks for one =) Everyone is invited to come and watch =) Thanks alot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its painful to see someone wither away,&lt;br /&gt;how they lose their hopes and ideals and their cheery deposition.&lt;br /&gt;What's even more painful, is to look at yourself everyday in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;and realise, you are nothing but a shadow of your past yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its excruciating to walk alone in school knowing full well almost all of them treats you like a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we all have to learn to be content with what we have, our friends, our family.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could too, but I know I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so difficult to piece my life back together right now.&lt;br /&gt;Someday I know I'll need a time out. Someday soon perhaps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115323159522111151?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115323159522111151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115323159522111151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115323159522111151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115323159522111151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-caught-glimpse-of-hope-not-too-long.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115314649807711122</id><published>2006-07-17T21:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T22:37:11.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just had a mega result and stress induced mood swing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great Expectations, what a relevant book for us to read.&lt;br /&gt;I got back some of my results today and suddenly it dawned upon me that&lt;br /&gt;all these months of me whining, thinking I could enjoy the prestige and recognition, hating how everyone hated me has resulted in nothing but a mess.&lt;br /&gt;Yup my life's such a mess right now.&lt;br /&gt;Look at me, I can't do anything well.&lt;br /&gt;It's so bad that I don't even know where to start tidying up my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish nobody expected anything of me. Sometimes I really want to be a nobody.&lt;br /&gt;What if I was stupid, with little talent and ability. Nobody would really care whether I could score As in tests or whether I had any talent whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;I could just rot my life away, do whatever I wanted, live life the way I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, everything I do has consequences, has impacts, has expectations placed upon it.&lt;br /&gt;Especially when the society is all about getting good grades.&lt;br /&gt;Today I realised perhaps I'm pretty much a wastrel myself.&lt;br /&gt;Well getting bad grades is one thing, but knowing that the world thinks lowly of you isn't exactly very helpful.&lt;br /&gt;Teachers know me as mr everything late, come to school late, hand in homework late, someone undesirable, incapable.&lt;br /&gt;It's like a cycle, a vicious one that repeats itself.&lt;br /&gt;I can't go on pretending and thinking there's something within me, some potential or hidden talent that makes me just as good as anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;The fact repeats itself in my face over and over again, I am just not it.&lt;br /&gt;It's painful to break away the facade you have been trying so hard to believe in for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be, I really wonder, that I'm probably just like what my grades show - S U C?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't know why I just feel bloody useless today. Like I've screwed up everything and i've done nothing right. Jc is really a extremely traumatic experience. Terrible. Extremely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I don't know and I don't think I can go on much longer. It is just too spiritually, mentally and physically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh Groban - Let Me Fall (from Cirque de Soleil)&lt;br /&gt;Let me fall&lt;br /&gt;Let me climb&lt;br /&gt;There's a moment when fear&lt;br /&gt;And dreams must collide&lt;br /&gt;Someone I am&lt;br /&gt;Is waiting for courage&lt;br /&gt;The one I want&lt;br /&gt;The one I will become&lt;br /&gt;Will catch me&lt;br /&gt;So let me fall&lt;br /&gt;If I must fall&lt;br /&gt;I won't heed your warnings&lt;br /&gt;I won't hear them&lt;br /&gt;Let me fall If I fall&lt;br /&gt;Though the phoenix may&lt;br /&gt;Or may not rise&lt;br /&gt;I will dance so freely&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to no one&lt;br /&gt;You can hold me only&lt;br /&gt;If you too will fall&lt;br /&gt;Away from all these&lt;br /&gt;Useless fears and chains&lt;br /&gt;Someone I am&lt;br /&gt;Is waiting for my courage&lt;br /&gt;The one I want&lt;br /&gt;The one I will become&lt;br /&gt;Will catch me&lt;br /&gt;So let me fall&lt;br /&gt;If I must fall I won't heed your warnings&lt;br /&gt;I won't hear&lt;br /&gt;Let me fall&lt;br /&gt;If I fall&lt;br /&gt;There's no reason&lt;br /&gt;To miss this one chance&lt;br /&gt;This perfect moment&lt;br /&gt;Just let me fall&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115314649807711122?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115314649807711122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115314649807711122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115314649807711122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115314649807711122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-had-mega-result-and-stress.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115298387635499202</id><published>2006-07-16T01:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T02:02:00.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"&lt;em&gt;It's always those who appear bubbly on the outside that are feeling the worst inside&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that little thing that captures you in its beauty&lt;br /&gt;in its brief moments, like the shooting star against the velvet night sky.&lt;br /&gt;it sets your heart aflame, your spirit feeling as though it could fly.&lt;br /&gt;the warm embrace enveloping your very soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you stutter, you flutter, your mind's in a whirl&lt;br /&gt;what was that thing in her eyes so alluring&lt;br /&gt;to soothe your flittering gaze as it rests upon them.&lt;br /&gt;Deep, warm brown eyes that make you lose yourself in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Formless in nature, nor coloured nor seen nor heard.&lt;br /&gt;Only to be felt by something within us - the heart.&lt;br /&gt;You can't escape, nor hide or resist it.&lt;br /&gt;Only to be swept over totally , totally submerged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the strong attraction makes it all seem right,&lt;br /&gt;till the mist before your eyes starts to clear.&lt;br /&gt;Only then will it all break apart,&lt;br /&gt;like shattering a pretty mirror to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;Deadly pieces that could rip you apart,&lt;br /&gt;drowning you in a red sea of your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else in the world that could be like this?&lt;br /&gt;So wonderful, yet so potent.&lt;br /&gt;It comes at you like the tsunami waves surging forward,&lt;br /&gt;waiting to devour you whole in it.&lt;br /&gt;Trapped, with no place to run.&lt;br /&gt;Could it be elysium or disaster?&lt;br /&gt;or perhaps it could be - my beautiful disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115298387635499202?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115298387635499202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115298387635499202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115298387635499202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115298387635499202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/its-always-those-who-appear-bubbly-on.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-115280681071771940</id><published>2006-07-13T23:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T00:06:50.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finally back from a self proclaimed hiatus. It's been rather long hasn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet seventeen has come and past, perhaps not so sweet anymore now.&lt;br /&gt;By far it was the most traumatic year I've ever lived through, so many countless reflections coursing through me on my birthday. Funny as it seems, growing up is one of the scariest things to me. Ever since leaving my comfort zone, nothing's been the same. I was so filled with hope and optimism for a promising life, but all that greeted me was the absolutely horrifying side of humanity. All that I held true, all that I thought was right was changed. Totally changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I changed too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the sands of time have to trickle down ever so quickly and steadily?&lt;br /&gt;As it flows by day by day, we grow older, and the gargantuan burden on our shoulders continues to weigh me down. What is it like to be an adult? I really wonder sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Someway or another, adults often strike across to me as lonely people struggling to put on a show everyday.&lt;br /&gt;What happens on the day I walk out of my university, clutching on to my certificate. Should I be rejoicing or crying?&lt;br /&gt;Definitely the latter.&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid of being alone, I'm afraid of earning tons of money, being so powerful and famous, so celebrated (ok IF I actually become like that) but when you sit down and think on who you really want to spend this money and joy with, you realise there's none.&lt;br /&gt;When we spread our wings and soar into reality, everybody struggles to survive. To survive and excel, we all need to pretend.&lt;br /&gt;Smiling to arrogant and horrendous customers.&lt;br /&gt;Praising the boss who has overinflated ego.&lt;br /&gt;Putting on a smile just for the root of all evil - Money.&lt;br /&gt;Even now, especially in this prestigious school, two-faced people are EVERYWHERE.&lt;br /&gt;Just when you thought you could place your trust in them, just when you thought they'll really be there for you. It'll all come apart sooner or later when you lose your value, be it monetary or entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;How sad will it be when one day, I lose touch with all my wonderful friends, friends whom I've made with pure sincerity and love. Friendships that wasn't forged because I was useful or powerful.&lt;br /&gt;Why do adults have to pretend in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it so tiring to put on a facade all day?&lt;br /&gt;Life would have no meaning would they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life is short, but briefer are the moments we truly lived"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Familiar to your ears?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cliche as it is, its absolutely true to every word.&lt;br /&gt;Today I feel as if my life has ended. When have I truly lived this year?&lt;br /&gt;So what if we won the grand prize, so what if we performed in the famous Esplanade? To truly live isn't to bask yourself in these momentary whiffs of glam and fame, especially when you never ever felt part of it in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps truly living is something for me to find out as I hopefully continue on with life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone once told me that seventeen was a year meant to be spent alone thinking. I did, and filled with a mixture of sorrow and jubilation was I after that. Jubilation knowing that I had such a wonderful life so far, especially in secondary school. Come on, great friends, holding top posts in several areas, lots of fun and perhaps what I really wanted - acceptance everywhere I went.&lt;br /&gt;Sorrow knowing that for quite some time I really thought my future was bleak.&lt;br /&gt;At a point of time I really felt like resigning to fate and isolate myself for the rest of my Jc life, solely depending on my secondary school friends or perhaps myself. In the end I realised I couldn't do it. I really can't stand knowing the fact I could have been out there realising my full potential and doing something really challenging and great. But guess what I'm just a loser right now with no posts, no chances to shine, no nothing. Am I that bad? or am I just surrounded by fiendish hypocrites waiting to step on you everytime you showed signs of weakening.&lt;br /&gt;Bleak.&lt;br /&gt;That's what really describes my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;No desire to excel in my studies, no desire to sing well in what would have been my favorite- Choir.&lt;br /&gt;Can't time just stop when I really felt that I was 'alive' back then?&lt;br /&gt;I know that's just being naive and cowardly.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a bed of roses, a bed that I'll rather die of insomnia then lie on mabye?&lt;br /&gt;Ah that's just nonsensical.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just being paranoid as usual. That's what you get when you choose to read the posts of a cynical person.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so confused right now, need to sleep I guess.&lt;br /&gt;Hope I'll update soon =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-115280681071771940?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115280681071771940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=115280681071771940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115280681071771940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/115280681071771940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/finally-back-from-self-proclaimed.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114881844976446085</id><published>2006-05-28T18:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T00:16:16.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm so sorry it took me so long to discover this quizzie thing, but yup i'm doing it for you as you requested jess =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instructions;name twenty ppl you can think at the top of your head. don't read the questions below before you write and tag 5 ppl to do this survey.&lt;br /&gt;1)edwin(think he rarely reads blogs)&lt;br /&gt;2)hui qi&lt;br /&gt;3)sharon&lt;br /&gt;4)xiang yeow&lt;br /&gt;5)wen qin&lt;br /&gt;6)leonard&lt;br /&gt;7) juit lian&lt;br /&gt;8) jesslyn&lt;br /&gt;9) sheila&lt;br /&gt;10) joanne&lt;br /&gt;11)samatha&lt;br /&gt;12)sarah lim&lt;br /&gt;13)boon wei&lt;br /&gt;14)jerrold (haha!)&lt;br /&gt;15)hu ping&lt;br /&gt;16)sansan&lt;br /&gt;17)rachel my chum =)&lt;br /&gt;18)yinning&lt;br /&gt;19)li yue&lt;br /&gt;20) yu ting&lt;br /&gt;1.how did i meet 14? carolling practice at siglap! i remember. the 2 blur ppl stoning.&lt;br /&gt;2.what wld you do if you never met 1? very hard to imagine leh. I'm sure it'll never be the same anymore. but i met him. so yup =)&lt;br /&gt;3.what would you do if 20 &amp;amp; 9 dated? hahas they're both girls lah. i think i'll end up laughing to death.&lt;br /&gt;4.did you ever like 19? HAHA I think i'll die carrying shopping bags or somewhere else. u noe. chuang shang zi hu (tigress of e bed =p)&lt;br /&gt;5.would 6 and 17 make a good couple? woah. I never thought of it. who knows actually. lolx&lt;br /&gt;6.describe 3. sharon! someone really special despite her seemingly reserved self. you will love to know her.&lt;br /&gt;7.do you think 8 is attractive? hmm why not? she's one of the most caring girls who really tried to be there for me all the time =) thanks&lt;br /&gt;8.say something about 7. hey juits =) she's really passionate about music, someone who can speak my language. hahas =)&lt;br /&gt;9.do you know any of 12's family? sarah? of course. i know her bro sherman and i know her parents. lolx. she knows my entire family too.&lt;br /&gt;10.what's 3's favourite? hmm. must be me =) hahas. somehow i realised i don't really know! i must go and find out. lolx&lt;br /&gt;11.what would you do if 18 confesses that he/she confesses to you? yinning? hahas I know it won't happen, even if she did it won't be me =))&lt;br /&gt;12.what language does 15 speak?? sinsin language. lolx dang tu tu si HU PING&lt;br /&gt;13.who is 9 going out with? Wei yuan I think. see i know all the gossips. hahas&lt;br /&gt;14.how old is 16 now? 16 =)&lt;br /&gt;15.when was the last time you talked to 13? in person? very long lo. i think mj concert that time&lt;br /&gt;16.who's 2's favourite band/singer? aiya, must be lin jun jie. lolx&lt;br /&gt;17.would you date 4? xy? he'll DIE to go out with me but yeah. i'm straight.&lt;br /&gt;18.would you date 7? juit lian? hmm seriously I don't know myself! lolx&lt;br /&gt;19.is 15 single? should be. but i heard he's very popular now wor.&lt;br /&gt;20.what's 10's last name? kong min aka jiang min&lt;br /&gt;21.would you ever be in a serious relationship with 11? feifei? hahas. she's a great girl =) but i really don't know such things myself. lolx.&lt;br /&gt;22.what school does 8 go to? Ajc =)&lt;br /&gt;23.where does 6 live? serangoon north that area if i'm not wrong.&lt;br /&gt;24.what's your favourite thing abt 5? wen qin! I don't know leh. I just think he's great =) maybe how i know he will always support me? don't know why he would too but I'm thankful.&lt;br /&gt;25.have you seen 17 naked? er hem. hahas. of course not ! chum will kill me for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okies i'm done =) sorry for doing it so late jessie.&lt;br /&gt;p.s sorry for the earlier mistakes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114881844976446085?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114881844976446085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114881844976446085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114881844976446085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114881844976446085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-so-sorry-it-took-me-so-long-to.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114710167423518069</id><published>2006-05-08T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T23:21:14.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THANKS alot for the post Wei Qin =) You made me feel like I'm not as useless as people now make me feel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do miss you too and I'm gonna write about you and all the wonders you have created in my life. Yup I remember how we met each other on the net and chatted loads and loads and loads. I remember how I spent so much time making friends online instead of making them in real life. Hahas its YOUR honour that you got a chance to haf a crush on me ok! Lolx jkjk =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I didn't really got to know you much until we had the student leader intensive back then in sec 2. Its such a wonder how our lives are connected by music even though we didn't know each other in person then. Somehow on thursdays I would suddenly get a huge bout of depression from missing the times when the three of us, me, you and joanne would take a cab down to our beloved miss chan's music lesson. I realised its MEP that really brought the three of us together. I bet we could never be such close friends if it wasn't for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though your jokes are really cold sometimes, but I really miss the days where the three of us would just crack cold and lame jokes, and I really miss your creative ones which all of us will still burst out laughing no matter how cold it was. I really missed the carefree times back then, basking in music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being such a fabulous friend all the time. I mean it. Thanks for helping me with music theory or snatching to list up characteristics of music periods with me and all. Yup I agree that its amazing that even though we're not in the same class or CCA, we managed to become such good friends that I will not forget easily. Those times when I was depressed back then, you were always someone I knew I could talk to, someone I knew I could trust and there were so many secrets we shared with each other =) It's alright listening to you lament about leon, I hope you didn't mind listening to me lamenting on every little small things though. Suprisingly you never failed to make me feel better after telling you stuff and you always came across as someone with all smiles and cheerfulness =) There was something special with you that made you into a real unique and great person too =) I bet leon must be really happy back then and now too? lolx =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the compliment on my singing =) I know you're real good on the cornet too but I shall not elaborate and inflate your ego too much. Hahas =X I'm glad you're having a great time at SAJC band and the people there are cool and friendly. Even though I'm damned bloody jealous but yeah at least I know miss ANG WEI QIN is having a good time =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup I will strive hard to get back the original me, just like the past. It's been hard but yeah its improving fast! I'm really quite touched at the fact you wrote such a fantastic post on your blog to make my day. Okay maybe just MORE than one day. At least you made me feel like I'm a normal person and not some freak that school makes me feel. Well I'm touched ! How often do you hear me saying that? hahas =) All the best to you too! Actually you're already doing well isn't it? * jealous jealous* Well remember we're invited to go for miss chan's wedding! Her pioneer batch of music students who brought her perfect A1 scores! woohoo =) Yup I hope we'll haf a MEP class gathering REAL REAL soon, it'll really bring back many fond and wonderful memories that I wish I would be creating now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three cheers for our fantastic friendship =)&lt;br /&gt;I know we're all busy and we don't really have time to talk to each other but I know we'll just click just fine the next time we catch up =)&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for making my day !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114710167423518069?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114710167423518069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114710167423518069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114710167423518069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114710167423518069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/thanks-alot-for-post-wei-qin-you-made.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114576320189298345</id><published>2006-04-23T10:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T11:33:21.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;我真的错了&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;我终于明白，人不应该停留在过去。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;看到自己对身边的一切充满着抱怨。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;抱怨世界是多么的虚假，多么凄凉。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;现在终于发现，原来真正虚假与凄凉的人是自己。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;我不应该批评一切，因为应该批评的人是自己。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;我明白了抱怨并改不了任何事，只能通过实际行动，&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;才能改变一切。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;做人好辛苦。直到如今，我还是不明白。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;希望经历过波折与考验能使我更坚强。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I know I've been blinded, for there IS more than just superficiality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I know there are some of you guys who are looking to forge real friendships but all I cared was to feel accepted by most people and all, overlooking all these treasures that were right before me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I was too selfish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm sorry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I've always been clamouring for all the wrong things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I read about this in a book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It says we don't live to make a good impression on people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We live to be humble and be true to ourselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There's no point being popular or well accepted when you're not yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm ashamed to know that I was so shallow to actually try to be nice to make a good impression and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm going to count my blessings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A really big thank you to those who have helped me along so far and yet I don't seem to appreciate it. I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I feel like I just concluded the end of a horrible chapter of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Thank you to everything and everyone who helped me bide past it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;no thanks to those who made it worse though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;p.s. Sorry about yesterday, I've thought about it and I know what you mean. It'll not be like that again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114576320189298345?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114576320189298345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114576320189298345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114576320189298345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114576320189298345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-know-ive-been-blinded-for-there-is.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114373100028372101</id><published>2006-03-30T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T23:03:20.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It came one night, and left.&lt;br /&gt;Leaving nothing but the tingling touch on your skin.&lt;br /&gt;How wonderful it was, how cruel it is.&lt;br /&gt;It comes without a reason, but leaves without a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It whispers into your ears, but all you now hear are shrill screams and howls.&lt;br /&gt;Stay. you tried to say but your words were carried away by the wind and lost .&lt;br /&gt;You feel frustrated, angry and disappointed at all the hypocrisy and pretense.&lt;br /&gt;Why? You ask, you ponder, but in the end, you find out the ugly side of this little breeze.&lt;br /&gt;Now it's nothing more than the memory.&lt;br /&gt;Even though you chose to believe that it was real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's all over now, to think you told me to stay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;now you're nothing more than a mere face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm seriously disappointed my friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114373100028372101?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114373100028372101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114373100028372101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114373100028372101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114373100028372101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/wind.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114309968427510423</id><published>2006-03-23T14:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T10:42:57.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All these superficiality, all these emptiness and depression. Is that what it means by JC? I'm starting to get so sick and tired of it. I never felt happy ever since my life started in Jc, only loneliness and endless depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the coldness, the feeling of being chummy and all with everyone in times of fun but alone when you're down. Everyone just becomes detached and cold, not matter how they appear to be enjoying . Perhaps they really do enjoy themselves. Some told me they've numbed themselves and all, I can't, and I'm not. But sometimes being too emotional and all makes you more depressed than ever when everyone around you are just, lets just say they're there yet they're not there. The thing I can't understands sometimes is that there are people who needs help or feel lost just like the way I do. Perhaps some of my friends were right, they need time to trust and all. But if nobody starts making a real effort to trust and build a friendship, when will there ever be one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I've just lost what I've been holding dear- the friends I used to think I could stick with, a school I used to think I'll succeed in. Everything just ceased to exist like a few days. Worse still, I spend so many hours in school with them. I don't actually mean to isolate myself from the rest of them, its just that I just don't feel a sense of belonging and I realised how fragile my friendship was with them when they actually automatically started to exclude me cause some trivial things. If I decide to pull away, I'm not giving myself and others a chance to forge friendships. If I don't pull away, I don't even know what I should do. Haix. I guess not many understand that feeling when you thought you made many friends and you're going to be happy, you choose to stay in Vjc, thinking you're going to have the time of your life, but now something happens and you step back and realise at the end of the day you have nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've turned so insecure, so sensitive and afraid. I was wrong about people. I thought everyone needed people to walk with them so that we all could walk a longer way. I don't understand why and I'm so tired to know. I just feel like shutting myself up, yet that will bring me pain cause I can't stand loneliness. It's like I'm suspending in mid- air, and gravity's threatening to pull me down. Why is everyone so fake? Why ? I can't fathom it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I'm taking it all so badly. I really want to know why too, why I'm feeling so extremely frustrated and depressed every single day. So helpless and so lost. I want to be happy, but I don't know how to or even how it feels. I just simply forgot how to be happy, like I can never smile anymore. I thought perhaps I needed to help people or find people who feels the same and help each other out and I'll feel that I had a purpose or a reason to continue striving on. But now there's nothing, that's why I feel no motivation to go to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i know why some people in the world don't trust anyone, how people always seem so cold. I really feel the temptation to be like that, numb to all emotions. But I don't want to be a empty shell. Just like now I'm just a shadow of my former self. I don't want to change, especially when what I'll change to is probably someone cold and unfeeling. I rather kill myself than do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Why is all of this happening to me now? I really want to know why but there doesn't seem to be any way to know. I'm really afraid I'm only heading to some form of breakdown. I wonder if many people are feeling the same way or am I the only one? Some of my friends seem so happy and I'm really really really really (to the power of infinity) super envious. I want to break free! HELP. argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just let me fall.&lt;br /&gt;and relieve me from this nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;I need a life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114309968427510423?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114309968427510423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114309968427510423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114309968427510423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114309968427510423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/all-these-superficiality-all-these.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114258796422197499</id><published>2006-03-17T16:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T17:32:44.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yeah you guys were right. Its time to move on. yup =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People change, things change. For quite some time my head was so full of thougts and troubles it'll probably burst if you prick it with a pin. For the past I was feeling so disturbed and down, worse still I realised I haven't really got to know anyone really well that they were able to help me up when I fell down real hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I just thought too much, all these insecurities and stress got me real sensitive and uptight. Kinda realised it pissed quite alot of people around me off. Haven't really been myself at all, everyday I just spend like half the time thinking and worrying about so many uneccesary things. It's time to move on danny. Hahax. Haven't really started JC right so far, ever since I transferred to 06A13 I haven't got to know them really well though they look really fun. Everyone in choir's kinda tired and shagged from all these training, everyone's just kinda stressed up and in a bad mood most of the time somehow. I don't deny it, but I still wonder if I made the right choice to stay in VJ somehow? Maybe I'll learn to love it but the time isn't here yet. I can't blame it on choir I guess, its a good place to sing in though lots of misunderstandings and unhappy things have happened somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realised something, after settling down for the past few days and all. That homework's kinda piling up damned high right now and it's gonna take a lot out of me to sort it or out. Perhaps pl was right, there are actually many other happy things around you that you can do , why tie yourself up with so many unnecessary things? For a moment I kinda struggled to sort out my priorities that I was barely clinging on to my sanity. School's going to start soon, I think its high time to really set things straight. But what do you know, Italy's coming in 3 weeks time, okay make that 2 weeks. It's DAMNED fast okay. It's a huge competition and I wanna make it a good one. Just let me break from this shadow that's been haunting me and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you feel that you've never been worse in your whole life, things can only get better cause it can't get any worse. I'm betting on it. Lolx. I still feel damned drained you know, like I have no energy to do anything. Chocolates really help though. They lift you out of depression and gives you energy. Hahas. Alrights, forward to a better life! =)))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114258796422197499?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114258796422197499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114258796422197499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114258796422197499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114258796422197499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/yeah-you-guys-were-right.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114217352806727144</id><published>2006-03-12T21:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T16:50:43.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've just come to realise that Junior College life is probably going to be one of the most depressing phases of my life. All these hopes of forging new and stronger friendships, finding someone I can be there for, singing in a famous choir and studying in a great school and all were just ... deceiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 months of just swimming around, lost and all. I tried holding on the a hand outstretched to me, but I'm starting to realise perhaps she never wanted to hold on to me for so long and I'm just clinging on too hard. I feel bloody insecure, and it so happens that I turn extremely fearful and paranoid when I am. After knowing and realising all the things I've been centering my life around for the past few months wasn't real. Everything's like shifting damned fast&lt;br /&gt;and nothing's constant. There isn't friends whom I know will stay constant and all around me all the time. I so miss xinmin sometimes, how cosy and warm it is cause I know I'm safe and happy back then. Amer told me I shouldn't be living in the past, but its really hard especially when there isn't really many people who's like helping you in the harsh environment out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been sucha bad month, hard time fitting in new class, choir and all. Sigh. All it manages to remind me is how I'm so bad at simple things and I'm just simply lousier that I think I am. It's just so unfair, even when people tell you that you're fine and you're okay and all but at the end of the day when you get closer to them you'll know they're just lying. I can't deceive myself any longer cause it really hurts like shit when I found out the truth after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really feel like killing myself, so frustrating and painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114217352806727144?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114217352806727144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114217352806727144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114217352806727144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114217352806727144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/ive-just-come-to-realise-that-junior.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114149109302492431</id><published>2006-03-05T00:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T00:51:33.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life is unfair, all of us know that. If that is true, where does justice come in then?&lt;br /&gt;Some people are born with a silver spoon, some not even having a grain of rice to eat.&lt;br /&gt;What happens when you fall short of the society ideal? Is there justice for the fact you're just lousier at everything compared to the people around you?&lt;br /&gt;Will there be justice that will make you better looking like others?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's done for people who are less fortunate, life is just different.&lt;br /&gt;I really hate it sometimes, myself included.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is probably the last words of someone's heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a struggle within himself, a struggle so intense that he couldn't concentrate for days. He couldn't figure out what he was thinking. He knew he was falling for her, but he was afraid he would be heartbroken like the past,his heart never to be pieced again. He knew, that she might already have someone else in mind, some other idea, some other feeling. But she had started to become part of his new life, and he knew he needed her to wake him up from all the false hopes given and all. And so he did, though nothing was heard that night, he already knew what he would probably hear. A mistake he thought, even though he could not help but feel that way. Perhaps the only place he ever belonged to was where he spent 4 years of his life learning not to play with his heart before it kills him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut, at least nothing's damaged this way. But it really hurts knowing she's so near, yet so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. I guess I now know what to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114149109302492431?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114149109302492431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114149109302492431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114149109302492431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114149109302492431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/life-is-unfair-all-of-us-know-that.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114105391451795571</id><published>2006-02-27T22:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T23:25:14.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A glass window is such an amazing thing. Its beautiful when you look at the scenery outside of it, be it the sea or endless grassfields. But when you take a little step backwards, you spot this person, short and pimply, his hair ugly and messy, staring back at you. Then you gasp in shock, appalled and all. But the thing is, the man in the mirror is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired all of a sudden. Just had this random thought that everything in my life's a huge mess. I was never the brightest kid, probably the noisiest in fact. My handwriting's ugly, I never handed up a substantial amount of my homework. I never had a proper foundation in anything. Be it music, math or anything at all. I tried to think of something about me that's a cut above the rest, but after a long long time, I realised there was nothing. Perhaps I wasted 16 years of my life being a nuisance and all, how sad is that huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again at second thought, there's so many people worse off then me in this world. After watching I not stupid too, I guess we just ask too much of ourselves. I'm just going to accept what I will become, be it ugly, stupid, noisy or fat. I should stop reminding myself of such things, hahas. Just take this little post as thrash that you'll dispose as soon as you read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'msorryttIcouldn'tanswer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;whenyouaskedmeifIwasalright,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;all I wanted to do then was to be in my own world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114105391451795571?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114105391451795571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114105391451795571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114105391451795571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114105391451795571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/glass-window-is-such-amazing-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114096686378416610</id><published>2006-02-26T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T23:14:23.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If only you knew&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, that when it rains&lt;br /&gt;I would be worrying if you're safe and sound&lt;br /&gt;away from the cold raging storm that strikes the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, how I always yearned for your attention&lt;br /&gt;but you failed to see me standing there, waiting and patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, how empty I feel when you're just next to me&lt;br /&gt;but you always thought of someone else, telling me its not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, how your smile spreads across your face like a butterfly,&lt;br /&gt;and how it makes me feel as though I could fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, how your hair is like stars and vines&lt;br /&gt;drifting in the air, against a sky thats ever so divine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, how sometimes I wished&lt;br /&gt;I was invisible like how you make me feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you knew, how I wish you would fall for me,&lt;br /&gt;the way I've fallen for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wished you knew, how I was hurt once&lt;br /&gt;but you made me feel as though I should give it a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's one thing I wished you didn't know, that is how my heart was afraid of breaking. That it never learned to dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wished you knew, how I am scared to sink in deeper,&lt;br /&gt;and decided to numb myself, slowly but sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-someone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the story of that someone goes on and on. Not for long I'm afraid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114096686378416610?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114096686378416610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114096686378416610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114096686378416610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114096686378416610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/if-only-you-knew-if-only-you-knew-that.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114070162259704427</id><published>2006-02-23T20:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T01:00:34.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Because of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason or another, this song's been stuck in my head for a real long time. It's just nice la hahax. The dumbest part is I just knew this song existed less than 2 weeks ago. I'm sucha swakoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like I'm happier lately, perhaps the initial woes and blues about dealing with a new environment has blown past me already. I realised there is always this sense of uncertainty in my posts. I'm always using 'seem', 'guess', 'perhaps' to start or end every sentence. I used to be lost, clueless to where I'm actually heading, led around by the nose by ignis fatui every now and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've changed to arts stream! Actually I'm still feeling a little uncertain cause I don't know if its the right choice, especially when I realised like half my class is leaving for science stream and other schools? I guess I shan't be such a fickle-pickle and stay in it for good. I'm in 06A13 =) Wanted A11 at first but I guess it's alright since the people there are friendly, although I couldn't get used to it at first though. There's gonna be like 2 guys left in it anyways. Lolx. To think I used to lament on how I'm tortured in a class of 20+ girls and their feminist ideologies back then in xinmin. I'm quite sure it's gonna be quite a cool experience in arts though. hahas. I'm just not suited for life as a super duper mugger. May I learn how to stay happy forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#333333;"&gt;Idon'tknowwhyitfeelslikethis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#333333;"&gt;ButI'mscaredthatIcan'tstopmyself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114070162259704427?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114070162259704427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114070162259704427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114070162259704427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114070162259704427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/because-of-you.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-114035104318232275</id><published>2006-02-19T18:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T20:12:46.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Death isn't the scariest thing on earth. Loneliness is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;47 days have passed since I started school in new and unknown environment, and for 47 days I've been trying to find a emotional foothold. Perhaps I'm not good at making new friends, or perhaps she was right. Junior college will never be as memorable as secondary school or primary school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So much for groping around in the dark though. At the end of the day you realise that everyone's already walking with someone else and you're the only one sitting down, hoping someone will come and pick you up. I hate to say it but yeah I'm already feeling all the happiness and positiveness being drained out of me. How lousy of me huh. Guess I don't exactly like floating around like I am now. Everyone tells me its just me and time will change everything. Looking around and stuff I realised nothing will pretty much change. Was it a mistake to stay in VJ? I found out that things that I thought was worth staying for were all illusions. Fallacies. To think I've fallen for this ignis fatuus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Remember the someone I talked about? That little hope of his was killed not by the ravaging storm of time and obstacles, but with a little chunk of metal that rings and lights up . And so he tried calling out to this little breath that gave it life to begin with, but his pleas were drowned in the endless clickings from the little chunk of technology.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were right. Expecting too much and forcing yourself to conform in order to gain something that is fragile and inconstant isn't worth it. There isn't any point trying to force people to walk alongside when all you need is to learn how to walk alone. Sometimes you can't make it on your own. But you just have to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;ItoldyoueverythingIwanted,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;butyouchosetopretendyoudidn'tknow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-114035104318232275?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114035104318232275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=114035104318232275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114035104318232275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/114035104318232275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/death-isnt-scariest-thing-on-earth.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113967169221344594</id><published>2006-02-11T22:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T23:28:12.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Should I? or not?&lt;br /&gt;Lost in a shroud of uncertainty all day. It's really starting to get more complicated that what I had imagined. So many different factors, each trying to pull me away from the other. For once I had to decide exactly what I wanted and where I wanted to go. I think I know what I would do now. Hope I didn't make the wrong choice though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a painful day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There used to be someone who fell so hard that the heart was shattered into pieces. That someone thought the heart was dead and numb ever since that day he the little hope that he had clinged on for so long was but an illusion. And so he thought it would continue to be this way until he walked in the woods and someone breathed life unto him.&lt;br /&gt;In his mind he thought the many shattered fragments would be healed and pieced back as hope started to flicker within. But even storms happen in the most beautiful beach on earth, and so this small little hope started to flicker as a ravaging storm started to brew. It prayed that something would stop the end of its short-lived and miserable life, so hard that it made the one which haboured the hope lifeless. He tried to cling on, but the breath that gave life to him started to fade.&lt;br /&gt;He thought it would come back, but when he opened his eyes and looked around. He realised that he was not the only one who wanted to piece his heart together. Others started to crowd around him, and soon he realised that this little breath that almost gave him life would never come again. He wanted to walk away, but he could not bear to give up this dying hope of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the story goes on, with that little someone feeling lost as he always has been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Ichosetobelieve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;hopingitsnotlikethelast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;butasitendsIlearntobefaithlessagain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113967169221344594?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113967169221344594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113967169221344594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113967169221344594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113967169221344594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/should-i-or-not-lost-in-shroud-of.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113948588295586208</id><published>2006-02-09T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:51:22.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And so it comes and go.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies like the wind, never to return to the same place ever again. So unpredictable and inconsistent like a kite in a storm. Hope diminishes like the crimson rays of sunshine at dusk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will decide what I would become for the rest of my life. A hard and cruel day that threatens to change life for the worse. I've been contemplating if I wanted to stay the way I am now if circumstances allow. But everytime I think of the good stuff, my pessimistic nature would overshadow all the optimism I may have about tomorow.  To say the truth I'm really quite afraid about tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School had lost its meaning today. It was no longer a place to learn and play. But merely a reminder of the fact that education enslaved me many years ago and tomorrow education will decide if I will become a wastrel and a social burden in the future or not. It really made me queasy and nervous all day. What if I get more than 14 points? My life would lose all its directions then, leaving me lost once again. I think I'm really going to suffer from psychosis due to paranoia. I no longer make any more sense, not that I use to make much of it anyways. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here lies the not-so-secret account of the life of a brave 16-yr old who died to bestial claws of the inflexible and unfeeling education system.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113948588295586208?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113948588295586208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113948588295586208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113948588295586208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113948588295586208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/and-so-it-comes-and-go.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113932196676983427</id><published>2006-02-07T21:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:04:29.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In loving memory of my beloved mp3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my Mp3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this week must be the worse week of my life. I never felt so drained and downtrodden before over some material possession. When I realised my mp3 was gone the world just crashed down on me. Why must I lose something so dear to me now?  To think that I'll probably be absolutely devastated when I receive my O level results this friday, what's left in this world for me to be happy about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's just like a tumbling washing machine, all jumbled up. I really don't know if I'm doing the right thing or not, I don't even know what do I want to do in life. Frankly I don't even know if I'm even good enough for anything. The feeling of uncertainly just sucks, and trying to find a direction to walk just makes me so vexed. Something just tells me my results will be really bad and I'll end up somewhere I don't like. I know it may sound pessimistic and all, but everytime I try to convince myself things are not so bad, reality would prove otherwise. I'm feeling really quite tired now, I don't even know how I've managed to survive so far. Everyday's just a monotonous affair. Thinking about it makes me depressed, but trying to ignore it will only be worse as it festers inside me. Somehow I think I sound extremely confusing even to myself, perhaps my english's just bad, as all aspects of me are. I really wanna know what I should do, and I'm really afraid I might take a wrong step and end up with countless regrets when I'm old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to miss my mp3 real bad. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I have to stop and go sleep now, there's CHOIR tomorrow. It's really starting to drain my energy, coupled with all that worrying for my results and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't know if its right to feel this way, but something about you tells me that its no longer will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113932196676983427?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113932196676983427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113932196676983427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113932196676983427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113932196676983427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/in-loving-memory-of-my-beloved-mp3.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113673881682947056</id><published>2006-01-09T00:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T00:46:59.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;superman.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                    Yeah I know a brand new year has started and I'm supposed to somehow blog about it and stuff. Haven't really got out of the party mood ever since the holidays ended. Sigh, all I had was just a miserable 1++ month of partys and stayovers etc etc before I'm back as a slave of education again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   Well Vjc orientation has been kinda great I guess, I'm in Valhalla vonder women! hehx =P Realised half my group are dunmen people, all the smart people lolx. Lucky I met jerrold and so I could kinda talk well to them and stuff. Well I certainly experienced what victorians meant by playing hard but I'm certainly not looking forward to know how they study hard too. lolx. I AM feeling the stress around already man. It's just starting to give me all the jitters and uneasiness man, crap.  I realised I don't exactly LOVE making countless new friends as many of my friends would think I would. It's just such a difficult thing to do, you know... Everyone's just so different, and to adapt and fit into each other's lifestyles is like piecing a twenty thousand jigsaw piece together. When I make new friends and I attempt to get them to know them together, its like treading on unknown waters. You don't even know what they're thinking of, but I've had good luck on this and met kinda great people =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   Leaving my comfort zone was no mean feat okay. I don't even know if I'm able to survive in my new school. Everyone just seems scary. REAL scary. One talk on the school syllabus and I thought someone as stupid as me would probably get crushed under this pressure. Okay maybe I'm just being stupid and trying to act scared and stuff. But something just feels uneasy inside me. I can't help it right? How in the world do you stop feeling inferior when practically everyone around you are either richer, smarter, better-looking or all of the above? Usually I'll tell myself that inner beauty will do, and that little hope within me will tell me I'm alright and I'm just the same as everyone. Well tt's what that little hope within me told me when I got bad results and it certainly got me into some trouble with my parents. hahas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                 Its really pretty sad lah, maybe I should have asked my parents to change my genes so that I'll be better looking and smarter and get better results. hahas. okay okay I know, inner beauty is best. Maybe I should stop getting trapped in this senseless desire to be the society ideal. Get a move on danny. lolx. Shouldn't waste time on all this since I don't know how much time I'll still have. sixty years? or sixty days? hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                 Seems like most people aren't really used to me talking too much to them, I'm starting to feel a little scared that I'm actually irritating people instead. Think I'm just being paranoid. Can't stand it. What happened to the confident talkative me man. lolx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                 There's always another side in everyone, a side that shows their fears and worries, something we don't see in everyday life. Some people think its alright to show it since it's part of human nature. Don't know what's happening to me lately, but I'm starting to get really careful as to who I'm opening up to and what do I say. Even at this point of time I'm actually careful as to what I say cause I ain't wanna make people think I'm someone just full of fears and paranoia. That's why the song superman lately kinda appealed to my soul. Even superman bleeds, even hitler would have his fears and worries. I'm guess I got a little scare of the complexity of human nature ever since I joined the choir a couple of months back then. I really hope the bond with my secondary school friends stays as strong as always, getting thrown into an unknown environment has really made me miss my old friends more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know if it was right back then, but now I'm really wondering if I should have stopped way back then. I don't know if I'm regretting it or not, but I guess you didn't leave me with any choice anyways. Its probably just my fault, I never was, and never will be good enough for you. sigh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113673881682947056?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113673881682947056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113673881682947056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113673881682947056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113673881682947056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/superman.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113337045157536724</id><published>2005-12-01T00:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T01:07:31.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it comes again. and again.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps depression often arises when you have nothing to look forward to, nothing to be happy for, or when you're pretty much dead inside.&lt;br /&gt;it just bothers me alot, the thing about what am I actually doing.&lt;br /&gt;I thought that perhaps i'll try to go carolling wif VJC to satisfy my boredom and stuff, but they don't really seem keen at all so probably won't get in.&lt;br /&gt;perhaps the shadow of O levels still bugs me down .&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm too worried of getting bad results. Everybody just keeps stresses me.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I've been having nightmares of me receiving my result slip but i can't see what's on the slip and i'll just wake up .&lt;br /&gt;Crap.&lt;br /&gt;it's just driving me crazy. I'm starting to feel lifeless.&lt;br /&gt;floating floating. it's making me all confused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113337045157536724?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113337045157536724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113337045157536724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113337045157536724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113337045157536724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/12/it-comes-again.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113265977164612509</id><published>2005-11-22T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T19:42:51.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Walls.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are everywhere in our lives. Physical walls that seperate us from the outside world, walls lining the borders of countries, or my personal favourite, psychological walls within every single one of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walls were meant to seperate two things from each other, be it the cubicle walls that prevent you from seeing the person in the next cubicle doing his/her business, or the low wall you had to jump over during PE today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, physical walls are just a manifestation of the mental walls. Why do we have the great wall of china? Because the ruler of china at that time wanted to seperate himself from everything that lives beyond that wall, and so the wall was built to materialize this wall of his . Everyone is the same, the greedy aims to swallow as much as he can, and then built a huge wall around himself to keep everything out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had this feeling that meeting people in everyday life gets worse? you feel weird, and you have this overwhelming urge to hide yourself from the rest of the world. That's when walls come into place. You start building a mental wall to shield yourself from all the undesirable things in reality, but you can't exactly make it physical or you'll be wearing a wall-helmet wherever you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it doesn't help when bouts of emptiness drown you every now and then. Could it be that I've lost my direction in life since the O's are gone? There's nothing for me to work towards. The girl in my previous posts have gone, forever after me struggling for so long. She wasn't ready, or perhaps it's just me as usual. It's sickening when everything fails cause you're a part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I really have a temptation to stop trying, I failed twice already and it just gets to me real bad. Would building a wall around myself help to make myself happier? Or will it just deceive myself and make life worse? Everyone's lonely, even if you're married. People walk around, and not one of them can pay attention to you all the time. Most learn how to take loneliness into their stride, I'm having an extremely hard time with that. However on thinking how others might find me a pest when I bother them too much. I can already see it clearly on others already, the reluctance, the pretence. It's all so common. Sigh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I feel so scared to socialize, so afraid of myself, afraid of meeting new people. I'm turning into a hermit. lolx. I guess I must go and satisfy my desire of wanting to be alone, sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113265977164612509?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113265977164612509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113265977164612509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113265977164612509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113265977164612509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/11/walls.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113188862309624478</id><published>2005-11-13T20:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T21:30:23.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What is a computer? Is it some indispensible technology device that vastly increases the capability of men? Or is it some hypnotising devices that immobilises young men like me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahax. I'm sucha a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent 4 hours+ on this stupid @#$@#$ machine chatting and typing some literature composition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I have this really nasty feeling that I'm not making good use of my time but YET I have no mood to revise anything.&lt;br /&gt;It's this stupid feeling that seems to bring bad grades, bad life, bad everything to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this really thought this morning. What am I really meant to accomplish in this life? After reading newspapers about global catastrophies such as avian flu and earthquakes and tsunamis that took away the lives of so many people, what am I supposed to do? I can't ignore the fragility of lives either, what if like those children in other countries I so happen to lose my live during the coming epidemic or something? If that happens whats the point of my parents spending such a hoard on me, and me spending so much time learning things, playing games etc etc?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really scary even thinking of it. Some children in India, or Africa, or even the almight America are starving to death every single day. What makes me so different from them? My race, my skin colour, or the language I speak? Nothing, all men are created equal. Yes that includes women. So every now and then I try to put myself in their shoes to try and simulate what it actually feels like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I return to reality and ponder into deep introspection, so am I living such a great life myself? I really dont know myself, as you can see from my obviously illogical and confusing words. Sometimes my ever so wild and fertile imagination wanders off and I imagine earth, or perhaps the WHOLE galaxy maybe just one of the toys manufactured by some superior being somewhere else. You know, like how we create toys where the toys are actually ant nest and you breed the nest and they create a mini 'world' of their own. Perhaps we're one of these toys too. okay I'm crapping real bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this society where all of us struggle to find our purpose and identity, it gets increasingly frustrating when you know you haven't actually done anything worthwhile in your life. Yet you never know where in a split of a second, your life can just expire. What happens after that? Family mourns for you, friends mourn for you, your face appears in the orbituary. Then years down the road nobody actually remembers whether you lived or not. Perhaps just your family but the pain will disappear. Will I see the stairway to heaven then? Or perhaps the ladder to hell for me lolx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really puts me in a dilemma man, stress free days will never exist anymore. Everyday becomes increasingly stressful. Yet what are we stressing ourselves for? To earn money, to get a wife and continue the family line, or perhaps to become a boss so that you enjoy social status and you can flash your gaudy diamond ring to your neighbours and mock and them for having no Ph.D in being an airhead. I always had this dream that maybe one day I'll just be able to abandon this complicated society and reach out for other lifestyles. Imagine you being some tribesman in the phillipines, will you ACTUALLY bother whether you're doing well in school? You probably won't be thinking whether your stocks fell or whether your boss is going to sack you today or something. But then again, there's no lifestyle that's stressless, there's no lifestyle where you can actually be really happy and you can do the things you really like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is evil. Muarhahaha. okay tt's stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man I just feel like knocking myself on the head and sleep for 24 years and wake up as a 40-year old virgin or something. Okay... maybe it's not such a good idea cause I'll be old and useless and I probably end up sweeping floors. Wait a minute, sweeping floors require O lvl certificates. Maybe they even need degree in road sweeping from ITE or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How pathetic will that be then? Not everyone is academically inclined, there ARE people who just can't study but they have skills in other areas. What happens to them then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, there are bubbles in economies, oil bubbles, economy bubbles and so on. What if there's a country bubble? You know when a country reaches a state where it's so advanced, the people are all mindless textbook reciting robots that spew a string of malicious sounding formulaes?(okay it's not tt bad). Where can a country progress then? It has to come down someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe doomsday is gonna come soon, perhaps in a couple of centuries or so. Just LOOK all around us. Animals are extinct, forests are stripped. The world's getting hotter and the icebergs are melting. It is REALITY man, oil will deplete in a matter of time, people will start dying. Just think, nature has made ecosystems where predators eat prey to control their population. Since we have no predator, nature would probably come destroy us all. As you can see, nature has recenty decided to make some birds fall sick and kill millions of birds and soon-to-die humans. What use is it to swallow boxes of tamiflus? You're probably just afraid to die and you're eating tamiflu, depriving those who really need it and let them sneeze to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all selfish creatures aren't we? hahax. Okay I better go back to study malvolio and gang for my literature. I'll probably go bonkers if I continue thinking of all these ludicrous thoughts and turn into some nut. Don't be surprised if you see me putting limes into cokes tomorrow.Hahax. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll come and share some of my profound, abysmal thoughts some other day, probably after my O's which ends in FIVE DAYS. how cool is that. Hehex =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113188862309624478?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113188862309624478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113188862309624478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113188862309624478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113188862309624478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/11/what-is-computer-is-it-some.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113151914236294360</id><published>2005-11-09T14:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T14:52:22.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I tried to go on like I never knew you. Even though it probably wouldn't work. hehx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know there is always this hope in us, something optimistic in us that always prays for the better.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever you take an exam, this hope will tell you that you would do okay after all.&lt;br /&gt;Or just like when you like someone, hope will always tell you that maybe he/she does actually like you a little too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all a lie , just like everything else in this world.&lt;br /&gt;Hope gives your heart something to pine for, something to live for.&lt;br /&gt;But when your hopes are dashed, you feel like dwell into some hole and wish you were never born. Maybe not that bad but you know, something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because there's this hope in all of us, that maybe we're not so ugly, maybe we're not so short or maybe we're not tt fat? But based on my experience, I'm pretty convinced they're oh so fake.&lt;br /&gt;Most of the times it is friends that give you this hope, by telling you 'hey danny actually you're not that _____". Then SOMETIMES, or actually when I was more naive back then, I'll go home thinking okay, maybe they're right.&lt;br /&gt;Then when you're closer to them, they'll move away.&lt;br /&gt;So next time if your so-so friend tells you hey you're not that bad etc etc. Somehow only half of the time it's true. Only close frinds would actually tell you the real thing, if not then they're not real.&lt;br /&gt;What's most irritating about this hope, which actually gives me the motivation to go on sometimes is that when you realise there was NO hope in the first place, your world crashes down on you like a 10-ton hippo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I do? With no hope, I wouldn't tell myself, hey actually you're not such a failure. I wouldn't say, hey actually you're just great, as long you're not evil to others, others won't be evil to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But HEY, think AGAIN. Is that actually true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with no hope I'll just be an empty shell cause I wouldn't do anything at all cause I know I'll just probably suck at it as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So is this little optimistic hope inside us the devil or the angel?&lt;br /&gt;I guess only you yourself can answer this question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would really think it's an angel. But but but, there so many uncountable times where I believed blindly on this hope and ending up like a freaking @#$!#$ fool. Because all along, people only treated you like some dancing clown, what you thought wasn't what is actually happening in reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fark, that's when you feel quite very super ultra extremely ultimately @#&amp;*&amp;amp;^&amp;*ly cheated. Then you feel like plunging this 10cm knife into yourself but you realise if you don't die commiting suicide, you'll get jailed. So when you try to die, make sure you actually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nono, I'm not planning to die. My family loves me, I haf great friends. I wouldn't wanna die without actually repaying them back first. hahax. No free lunch in this world mah, you must repay good deeds ppl do to you, no matter how long you take to repay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so talking about hope. What can we do to solve this problem? Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;You'll probably die of brain hamorrhage or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a simple solution, when you don't desire, you won't feel the pain when nothing happens in the end. That's it =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I'm just talking crap cause I can't do it myself. I'm not ready to be a monk and detach myself from worldly desires yet, plus I'll look horrendously hideous with no hair on my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why you blog you see? You talk crap, people agree/disagree with your twisted theories and they start flaming you on your tagboard and phone their lawyers. That's what everyone does whenever they're under fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the misleading media giving me HOPE that I can actually one day, find somewhere where I can live in a less complicated world where there's peace between neighbours, free from influences from lust, money, TV, and those butt shaking, boob-baring singers out there today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They probably just good for you to oogle and drip some of your body fluid at the edge of your mouths but they're actually just thrash when it comes to singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll just be contented with what I have now. There CAN be miracles, when you believe =D I do believe you know, that I'm at least meant for something to contribute to the world before 60 years or so fly by and I'll be turned into an urn of pathetic dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should get a Ph.D in Self Delusion Therapy or something. Hmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113151914236294360?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113151914236294360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113151914236294360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113151914236294360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113151914236294360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-tried-to-go-on-like-i-never-knew-you.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-113118422637162517</id><published>2005-11-05T17:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-05T17:50:26.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sorry for the long absence of senseless musings lolx. It's been EONS since I had the urge to type another post. I guess I need this blog to destress for a while.&lt;br /&gt;                        Did I actually tell you that my O levels start next monday and my eyes are still glued on to the computer screen for the past 2 hours?&lt;br /&gt;             'Get off the screen danny, and glue ur eyes to the textbook instead'&lt;br /&gt;                       That's what my subconcious mind has been droning incessantly for the past few hours. Great, what am I doing here then? I guess the 'negative' elements in me kinda took over. That's why I'm still relatively unsucessful in anything I do.&lt;br /&gt;                      Sigh, have I told you I always hated exams? Because I don't and will never see the point why my life is determined by major examinations. But come to think of it, what other things can determine my capability then? Yet all I manage to do everyday is to slack and slack. Hahax. Resulting in severe lack of A1s in my report book.&lt;br /&gt;                     Oh yeah, if anyone actually reads this post of mine as many would probably think it's abandoned for eternity or something. You guys might wanna drop by this site, &lt;a href="http://www.retardpatrol.blogspot.com"&gt;www.retardpatrol.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; . You get to read posts making scathing YET absolutely hilarious comments about the usual ah bengs and ah lians who make up, take absolutely moronic photos featuring their 'cUtExxx and cHiOxX' faces and spastic looking BIG eyes. You even get to see ah bengs who are pathetic at adobe photoshop trying to blur up their photos and EVEN labeling themselves and 'XiAo YanDaO and CutExx' or smth liddat. My GOD. I had a good laugh reading cause I happen to meet countless retards in school EVERY SINGLE DAY. Not that I do now since I'm on study leave. Hahax, perhaps you might decide not to take pictures of urself acting cute or smth after you read those posts . For one, being ah lians or ah beng actually immediately gives you a social label of intellectually handicapped or simply cheap. Talk about bimbos and airheads. lolx.&lt;br /&gt;                     Okay, enough of such talks. Hahax, they never fail to get me worked up. You would too if you saw how pathetic they behave in school. Spewing strings of vulgarities, banging the table to some lion dance rhythm as if that's the only pathetic rhythm they know in their entire life. I could still remember how they leave their plates behind for the UNCLE to collect. How morally upright is that? our CME programs are sure effective.&lt;br /&gt;                     Damned I'm back to the topic again. okay okay. The task at hand right now should be tackling this gargantuan obstacle. I'm convinced exams are BOTH physically and psychologically damaging. Serious. Ever since we started preparing for the 'O' levels, I often get bouts of emptiness and depression. As if I've lost my REAL direction in life, which is the O levels for now. What happens after that then? I guess I'll play like @#$@#$ lolx. Then I'll go on to JC, then NS and hopefully NUS.&lt;br /&gt;                                             What happens then?&lt;br /&gt;                 It gets me mentally exhausted just tryin to think of it. Well, provided I can even live to that age. I have been convinced that life IS extremely fragile. Who knows just a month later someone might be gone from some unfortunate accident. I get shudders just thinking of it =(&lt;br /&gt;                 Crap man,I'm thinking of so much absolutely irrelevant stuff that has nothing to do with studying.&lt;br /&gt;                                               Someone STAB me.&lt;br /&gt;               Okay I was kidding. stabbing me CAN kill me. Hahax. Maybe when you guys read this post, sms me with the words as follows    'STUDY FOR YOUR 'O' LEVELS you jerk."    Lolx. Will it actually work? hahax. Seems like I'm trying to compensate for the long absence of posts by typing so much nonsense at one shot. ALRIGHT I'm GONNA FINISH STUDYING now. okay =D wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;I'll TRY to fill up more posts after my exams provided I'm not so totally having fun somewhere, somehow. hehx =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-113118422637162517?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113118422637162517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=113118422637162517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113118422637162517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/113118422637162517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/11/sorry-for-long-absence-of-senseless.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112521609788206888</id><published>2005-08-28T15:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T16:01:37.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"My Happy Ending"&lt;br /&gt;So much for my happy ending&lt;br /&gt;Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh...&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk this over&lt;br /&gt;It's not like we're dead&lt;br /&gt;Was it something I did?&lt;br /&gt;Was it something You said?&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave me hanging&lt;br /&gt;In a city so dead&lt;br /&gt;Held up up so high&lt;br /&gt;On such a breakable thread&lt;br /&gt;You were all the things I thought I knew&lt;br /&gt;And I thought we could be&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]&lt;br /&gt;You were everything, everything that I wanted&lt;br /&gt;We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it&lt;br /&gt;And all the memories, so close to me, just fade away&lt;br /&gt;All this time you were pretending&lt;br /&gt;So much for my happy ending&lt;br /&gt;Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh...&lt;br /&gt;You've got your dumb friends&lt;br /&gt;I know what they say&lt;br /&gt;They tell you I'm difficult&lt;br /&gt;But so are they&lt;br /&gt;But they don't know me&lt;br /&gt;Do they even know you?&lt;br /&gt;All the things you hide from me&lt;br /&gt;All the shit that you do&lt;br /&gt;You were all the things I thought I knew&lt;br /&gt;And I thought we could be&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to know you were there&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for acting like you cared&lt;br /&gt;And making me feel like I was the only one&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to know we had it all&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for watching as I fall&lt;br /&gt;And letting me know we were done&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus x2]Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112521609788206888?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112521609788206888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112521609788206888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112521609788206888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112521609788206888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-happy-ending-so-much-for-my-happy.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112521558568826757</id><published>2005-08-28T15:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T15:53:05.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>all over.&lt;br /&gt;it's all over.&lt;br /&gt;Why does all of them have to end at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;And so everything's wrong from the start.&lt;br /&gt;she never did feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;I was wrong all along.&lt;br /&gt;So much for saying the truth huh.&lt;br /&gt;Wow it hurts so much I'm somehow numb lolx.&lt;br /&gt;suddenly everybody's gone. All in a weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Great huh.&lt;br /&gt;All I have left is homework, and more homework.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. I'm soooo lost&lt;br /&gt;feel as though i'm floating in the colossal void in outer space.&lt;br /&gt;Lost and suffocating.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;stupid stupid me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna need some time to learn how to move on. hahas.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112521558568826757?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112521558568826757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112521558568826757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112521558568826757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112521558568826757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/08/all-over.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112468826151638974</id><published>2005-08-22T13:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T13:24:21.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay I bet you guys are pretty sick and tired of listening to my musings.&lt;br /&gt;That happens when blogging is my way of releasing my frustrations.&lt;br /&gt;No more crushes and stuff, it's time to move on without stopping yourself with it.&lt;br /&gt;If 'love' doesn't want to come to you, no point acting like some deprived desperado, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I would like use this little post of mine to apologise to huiling too.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I even suspected you in the first place =(&lt;br /&gt;Next time I shall think twice especially when girls are involved.&lt;br /&gt;It's heartening to know after all, our friendship still stands =D&lt;br /&gt;unlike many others.&lt;br /&gt;heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112468826151638974?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112468826151638974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112468826151638974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112468826151638974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112468826151638974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/08/okay-i-bet-you-guys-are-pretty-sick.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112461307881734424</id><published>2005-08-21T16:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T16:31:37.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's over. I'm glad it is. I guess I got really sick of feeling so frustrated of whether to tell her or not that I decided to do it.&lt;br /&gt;crazy isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;Well I kinda prepared for what is to come already. It has already reached a stage where I'm ready to break it, or make it. It's alright isn't it? After all it's just an issue of liking. I'm not gonna be like orsino and liken 'love' to something 'highly fantastical' or something like that. I'm not gonna indulge myself in the notions of it either. Perhaps if it breaks, it's good cause I'll stop being tortured by it in any manner. great =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to be stuck in a perpertual chain of troubles though, finally I've decided to tell her and thought there would be no more such distressing issues. Another wrecked friendship had to come into my life. No it's not Hui ling, we already solved it already, but someone who has shattered all the love and trust i had in her again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the End -Linkin Park&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing / I don’t know why&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t even matter how hard you try&lt;br /&gt;Keep that in mind / I designed this rhyme&lt;br /&gt;To explain in due time&lt;br /&gt;All I know&lt;br /&gt;time is a valuable thing&lt;br /&gt;Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings&lt;br /&gt;Watch it count down to the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;The clock ticks life away&lt;br /&gt;It’s so unreal Didn’t look out below&lt;br /&gt;Watch the time go right out the window&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hold on / but didn’t even know&lt;br /&gt;Wasted it all just to&lt;br /&gt;Watch you go&lt;br /&gt;I kept everything inside and even though I tried / it all fell apart&lt;br /&gt;What it meant to me / will eventually / be a memory / of a time when I tried so hard&lt;br /&gt;And got so far&lt;br /&gt;But in the end&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't even matter I had to fall&lt;br /&gt;To lose it allBut in the end&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't even matter&lt;br /&gt;One thing / I don’t know why&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t even matter how hard you try&lt;br /&gt;Keep that in mind / I designed this rhyme&lt;br /&gt;To remind myself how&lt;br /&gt;I tried so hard In spite of the way you were mocking me&lt;br /&gt;Acting like I was part of your property&lt;br /&gt;Remembering all the times you fought with me&lt;br /&gt;I’m surprised it got so (far)&lt;br /&gt;Things aren’t the way they were before&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn’t even recognize me anymore&lt;br /&gt;Not that you knew me back then&lt;br /&gt;But it all comes back to me&lt;br /&gt;In the end You kept everything inside and even though I tried / it all fell apart&lt;br /&gt;What it meant to me / will eventually / be a memory / of a time when I&lt;br /&gt;I tried so hard&lt;br /&gt;And got so far&lt;br /&gt;But in the endIt doesn’t even matter&lt;br /&gt;I had to fallTo lose it all&lt;br /&gt;But in the end&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t even matter&lt;br /&gt;I’ve put my trust in you&lt;br /&gt;Pushed as far as I can go And for all this&lt;br /&gt;There’s only one thing you should know&lt;br /&gt;I’ve put my trust in you Pushed as far as I can goAnd for all this&lt;br /&gt;There’s only one thing you should know&lt;br /&gt;I tried so hard&lt;br /&gt;And got so far&lt;br /&gt;But in the end&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t even matter&lt;br /&gt;I had to fall&lt;br /&gt;To lose it all&lt;br /&gt;But in the end&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t even matter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just felt that this song aptly expresses what I wanted to tell her. I'm not exactly happy that everything has to end up like this. But since the value of this 1 year+ 2 year friendship amount to nothing more than something that can be destroyed just by lies from other people. I see no point why it should go on. I'm sorry it has to end this way, but I'm sure you should very well know at the way you treat me, I'll end up walking out of your life. It's something sooner or later, but since you want it to end now, so be it then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you don't know, I've done nothing of the sort you accuse me of. If you perpetually choose to be deluded in that fantasy world of yours, don't say I did not attempt to warn you and foreshadow the dire consequences that ensues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is it. In the End, what I've done doesn't even matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112461307881734424?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112461307881734424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112461307881734424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112461307881734424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112461307881734424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-over.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112360668967747274</id><published>2005-08-10T00:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T00:58:09.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Was I blinded? Or could I have identified the wrong person?&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the case, I'm glad to declare that I'm gonna forget all about it.&lt;br /&gt;It's stupid I think, I'm starting to sound like those love deprived girls who always say i miss you etc etc in their blogs.&lt;br /&gt;Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;Hax.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah it's just not worth it.&lt;br /&gt;Everything's over by now, it's time for me to just study.&lt;br /&gt;She's going out =D&lt;br /&gt;anyways there is someone else who cares for me more.&lt;br /&gt;friendship first =D&lt;br /&gt;Everything else can come after I've passed this stupid crisis .&lt;br /&gt;thanks to those understanding people who cheered me on when I needed it =D&lt;br /&gt;It's heartening esp when the whole world's just stressing you up.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'll do to her though.&lt;br /&gt;I guess just let everything go.&lt;br /&gt;If what she does makes her happy, who she's with makes her glad.&lt;br /&gt;I shall be happy. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;and please people out there, do not make wild guesses, she's probably not who you think she is.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not gonna be trapped by this scary feeling anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Formless, invisible, formidable it is.&lt;br /&gt;it has no smell, it has no taste.&lt;br /&gt;But when it gets into you&lt;br /&gt;it festers, and soon you are at it's mercy&lt;br /&gt;yes, when you have this towards someone&lt;br /&gt;you'll do all the crazy things  you can't explain.&lt;br /&gt;but it's crazy. it's pointless. it's ends in naught.&lt;br /&gt;how many people have suffered in it, died for it or sacrificed so much for it?&lt;br /&gt;In the end, if it's not reciprocated, you end up with nothing.&lt;br /&gt;No joy, no laughter. But only with pain and a mountain of sacrifices.&lt;br /&gt;Is it worth it? Don't think it is. &lt;br /&gt;Is it true in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;am I even capable of conceiving something true?&lt;br /&gt;or am I merely thrusting sadness into my own hands in the notions of it?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because she doesn't know about it.&lt;br /&gt;who cares =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you really like someone, it doesn't really matter if she loves you or not.&lt;br /&gt;Because you know that when she's safe and sound, happy and all, you feel happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112360668967747274?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112360668967747274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112360668967747274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112360668967747274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112360668967747274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/08/was-i-blinded-or-could-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112326122868164058</id><published>2005-08-06T00:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T01:00:28.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did I tell you how painful it feels when the person you like so much tells talks to you about how much she likes some other guy?&lt;br /&gt;My it really does feel as if someone just used took a scalpel and sliced up your heart piece by piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Can you see me, here i am...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;standing here, well i'm always there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;and getting to see you everyday in school isn't helping at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I really feel like giving up, liking you is such torture for my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Why must all the girls I like so much either have a bf or already liked some senior somewhere?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Not like they'll care about me even if they didn't like someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I just refuse to accept my rotten experiences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I felt like waiting, thinking maybe one day you'll change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But now I really doubt it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I really do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I really wish you could be my shelter from the storm that rages in me all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I wanted you to be my safest place to hide from all the scary things I see everyday in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If you don't know by now, you're the only one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In the past I hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Does it mean all the nightmares I often have of you walking away with someone else will end?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It will I guess, cause it will happen soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ARGH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Frustration inflates me like air into a balloon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm gonna explode.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Maybe not after I finish typing and venting my frustrations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Blasted feelings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I shall learn to be cold and lifeless from now on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;okay maybe not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I sound so farking despo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;boo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112326122868164058?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112326122868164058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112326122868164058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112326122868164058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112326122868164058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/08/did-i-tell-you-how-painful-it-feels.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112263173291464090</id><published>2005-07-29T17:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T18:08:52.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hooray i'm finally ill ! lolx?&lt;br /&gt;i know it's weird that i'm happy being ill, but it really feels good cos i've been sleeping at home ALL day long. A pure luxury =D&lt;br /&gt;I've never taken an MC for ages already, years in fact, but today my throat was so painful and my nose was dripping like mad that i had no choice but to stay at home.&lt;br /&gt;I knew this was coming though, cause during my music lesson yesterday i had a headache that was really sucking my concentration.&lt;br /&gt;I guess i can't say anything cause I shouldn't blame my poor performance on my illness =D&lt;br /&gt;I ended up doing nothing much for the day except to sleep and sleep and more sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sucha pig~ lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Too bad this little 'break' would only be for a day, or less cause I have to settle down at my study table soon and mug.&lt;br /&gt;Reality's such a harsh thing, it's little wonder so many people have resorted to different methods to escape from it eg. drugs, game etc.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I'm starting to like being an introvert, to keeping quiet and not talk excessively like I do now. I think everyone would be happy to read this cause finally they'll stop hearing my irritating talking and singing. heh.&lt;br /&gt;Being too open really makes you look stupid after awhile.&lt;br /&gt;You entertain people, you talk to people and try to make friends with them.&lt;br /&gt;But all you get in return are nothing more than wry smiles and wary glances.&lt;br /&gt;Now I see why some of my close friends choose to be selfish.&lt;br /&gt;I used to hate the way the always think of themselves and mock at people who don't.&lt;br /&gt;I too, used to dislike people who always displayed their mood swings and vented them on their peers.&lt;br /&gt;But to think of it, it is them who ends up getting the most out of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;I still firmly believe everything's so fake and they're nothing more than facades.&lt;br /&gt;Just like how some of my friends pretend to be so nice and caring to the opposite sex so that they can win them over and perhaps toy with them for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps only when you are of use to someone, will that someone then be nice to you and stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;They either go for your money, go for the help and comfort you can give them, or perhaps they like you.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm no better at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I wonder when I can let her know, but i'm just too scared of rejection and pain.  perhaps she's attached and all i'm going after is just another misleading dream. Maybe I'll just tell her after my exams, when we will then have to part as we graduate. Sigh... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112263173291464090?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112263173291464090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112263173291464090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112263173291464090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112263173291464090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/07/hooray-im-finally-ill-lolx-i-know-its.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112205077065002934</id><published>2005-07-23T00:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T00:46:10.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why is having emotions such a burden?&lt;br /&gt;It's ever-changing nature puts you in an ever confused state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;I don't seem to understand mine either.&lt;br /&gt;It's frustrating, cause you can't figure out anything despite racking your brains.&lt;br /&gt;Today it seems that loneliness has found me.&lt;br /&gt;it swallowed me like the bottomless blackhole.&lt;br /&gt;Left me as empty as a souless shell.&lt;br /&gt;I can't understand myself.&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm looking for someone all the time, I know she's there.&lt;br /&gt;But no matter how many times i looked around, she just never appeared.&lt;br /&gt;Then it seems that I'm played too much of those mind games.&lt;br /&gt;To the extent that I've been a facade all along.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes people shows you smiling faces, and speak such sweet words to your ears.&lt;br /&gt;But the truth is just that it's all but part of their game.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm just another pawn.&lt;br /&gt;It's not too bad actually, because they are pawns of mine too.&lt;br /&gt;okay i know you don't understand what i mean.&lt;br /&gt;But it's alright.&lt;br /&gt;I don't wish to stay quiet and act like some outcast.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just not someone like that.&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes I really can't help myself.&lt;br /&gt;I need some time alone, yet I absolutely abhor loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, who would be able to fill up this void in the depths of my unfanthomable self?&lt;br /&gt;maybe I'm just tired...&lt;br /&gt;So i'll go rest now =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112205077065002934?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112205077065002934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112205077065002934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112205077065002934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112205077065002934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/07/why-is-having-emotions-such-burden-its.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-112065597122707092</id><published>2005-07-06T20:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T21:19:31.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>back after a lengthy absence again.&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna try to inject some hope into my withered life.&lt;br /&gt;Well my birthday was JUST over! =DD&lt;br /&gt;It was really great except some old emotional wounds got kinda opened up again. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? I got really nice presents and the best of all. I GOT MY MP3 PLAYER!!! *note it's REAL one, not those cheapo kind.&lt;br /&gt;Creative brand ders.&lt;br /&gt;It's the BIGGEST present i got in my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even think i'll get it, but my faithful manager sarah has done her job real well and the fund was flowing to the brim =D&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna list down the entire list of my ever so loving donors =D&lt;br /&gt;                Contributers to the 'Danny' Fund =D (managed by Sarah Lim =D )&lt;br /&gt;1.Jonathan Lee ( da most generous one =D)&lt;br /&gt;2.Samantha    =D&lt;br /&gt;3.Felicia&lt;br /&gt;4.Germaine&lt;br /&gt;5. Ling wei&lt;br /&gt;6. Jia chang (thanks cos i dun reallyknow him =D)&lt;br /&gt;7. Jonathan pang&lt;br /&gt;8.Olivia&lt;br /&gt;9.Ming ting (sec 1s oni lehx, so nice rite?)&lt;br /&gt;10.Gwendolyn ( same as MT hahas)&lt;br /&gt;11.Boon Wei&lt;br /&gt;12.Joanne&lt;br /&gt;13.Valerie&lt;br /&gt;14.Hafiz&lt;br /&gt;15.Phoebe&lt;br /&gt;16.Denise&lt;br /&gt;17.Yap Ning&lt;br /&gt;18.Wan Ling (cavewoman!! =DD)&lt;br /&gt;19.Shan Shan&lt;br /&gt;20.Hui yee&lt;br /&gt;21 .Wen Qin&lt;br /&gt;22.Leonard&lt;br /&gt;23.Edwin =DD&lt;br /&gt;24.Sebastian&lt;br /&gt;25.Yong Soon&lt;br /&gt;26.Jialin&lt;br /&gt;27.Hui Ling&lt;br /&gt;28.Sarah Tee (dunno if u rmb hahas)&lt;br /&gt;29.Geok Ting&lt;br /&gt;30. Pei Ching&lt;br /&gt;31. Shanshan de brother (surprising rite? hahas thnaks =D)&lt;br /&gt;32. Wee teng&lt;br /&gt;33. Angeline&lt;br /&gt;34. Sarah LIM! =DD (xin ku ni lers)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to lots of other ppl, andrina, bonn sherman for the cds. Unknown for the card. Lisa too =DD&lt;br /&gt;Finally a big thanks to EVERYONE =D&lt;br /&gt;u guys make my birthday rawk and happy. Hahax.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-112065597122707092?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/112065597122707092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=112065597122707092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112065597122707092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/112065597122707092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/07/back-after-lengthy-absence-again.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111963340523481085</id><published>2005-06-25T01:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T01:16:45.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Things are alright already =D&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the encouraging tags and ah qian =D who made a cute webbie for me.&lt;br /&gt;Can those who tagged at my board kindly tell me their names? So at least i know who's tagging, if it's not convenient in the tagboard u can tell me on msn. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;Turned out that things are alright now.&lt;br /&gt;There can be a happy ending after all.&lt;br /&gt;But i can't one fact, girls are fantastic at complicating things.&lt;br /&gt;perhaps that's what they were born for?&lt;br /&gt;hahax, to make life harder so it'll be more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;oh wellx, school starts and life suxs.&lt;br /&gt;Things will be better  =D&lt;br /&gt;hope my results will get better hehex =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111963340523481085?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111963340523481085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111963340523481085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111963340523481085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111963340523481085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/06/things-are-alright-already-d-thanks.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111943879882362398</id><published>2005-06-22T18:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T19:13:18.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never actually knew how bad things can actually go because of a word or action. Until the recent events kinda changed the way i used to think.&lt;br /&gt;My heart is has sunk, confused and terribly hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, jessandra was right, many things in the world are facades, and the more you trust these things, the harder you fall from them.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes unexpected things in life can really be overwhelming, so much so it washes and drowns out that little flame that flickers inside me.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it's just a sign to tell me I'm wrong, A sign to tell me after all I've done, things haven't changed at all.&lt;br /&gt;It really took alot out of me to stand up again, but those crutches i've learnt to walk with just snapped all of a sudden.&lt;br /&gt;I still can't figure it why everyone thinks I don't cherish their friendships, and say all sorts of really nasty things, some of which are true, and some are not.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I've expected too much.&lt;br /&gt;I never should have bothered&lt;br /&gt;I never should have thought this was real.&lt;br /&gt;It's too late now to regret.&lt;br /&gt;I've learnt to take it, I've learnt to see.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps friendships were never meant to be something constant.&lt;br /&gt;People marvel at the many pleasures and things it gives&lt;br /&gt;But did they see what pain it brings too?&lt;br /&gt;We also see in dramas and people that when you reach the stage where you really care, it is when people tend to take it for granted.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps everything should be done in moderation&lt;br /&gt;So there's no such thing as everlasting platonic friendship.&lt;br /&gt;It comes to an end when you put too much into it, or reach to a point of saturation where you haf to decide to continue to plunge in, or pull out and break the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing's too overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;I can't do anything else but shut myself out.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing seems to be right, especially me.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, please don't ask me if I'm alright or something&lt;br /&gt;Because it really makes it worse. thanks.&lt;br /&gt;Life's gonna be normal, it's going to go on&lt;br /&gt;But I've learnt a huge lesson&lt;br /&gt;With a gigantic price tag.&lt;br /&gt;What a pain.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like being depressed and stop trying&lt;br /&gt;But whenever i go about my life, people will ask.&lt;br /&gt;If i suddenly performed badly during singing lesson cause i'm depressed, my teacher would scold me, and i'll feel as if i'm sad for nothing and i'm wasting my future.&lt;br /&gt;But i don't know, I NEED to be sad because I am, yet I can't because I'm not expected to be and I sure can't afford to.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, what a big fat paradox.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111943879882362398?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111943879882362398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111943879882362398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111943879882362398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111943879882362398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-never-actually-knew-how-bad-things.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111865923960822645</id><published>2005-06-13T18:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T18:40:40.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>2 more days to perth. i'm supposed to be excited right?&lt;br /&gt;saddest thing is I haven't recovered from my cough and flu&lt;br /&gt;plus I'm still feeling so tired from all the activities so far&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's what you get from a 'SCHOOL holiday"&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure all of us know that a school holiday in the present time and age differs GREATLY from HOLIDAYS.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, my life is SO extremely pathetic i don't even remember when I had a holiday at all.&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks of lessons during SCHOOL holidays. endless amount of homework that I HAVE to bring to perth to complete. As well as trying freaking hard to handle my voice and piano lessons.&lt;br /&gt;singing lessons today kinda made me feel real guilty, as if i've been wasting my teachers time.&lt;br /&gt;He said I had a good voice but my attitude is lacking.&lt;br /&gt;really felt like telling him all the hundred thousands of things that really wears me out everyday.&lt;br /&gt;But i knew it was just excuses in fact.&lt;br /&gt;But are they?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not god, or superman.&lt;br /&gt;I don't even think that they would like having to do so many million things within such short time and with a weak body that falls sick when you don't need it to.&lt;br /&gt;This little flu and cough is really sapping me of my energy.&lt;br /&gt;I can't afford that, that's why these few weeks have been a torture for me.&lt;br /&gt;I see the line that defines the my limit, as I unwillingly walk slowly towards it.&lt;br /&gt;I need help man, take all these away from my life.&lt;br /&gt;The school has gone insane, education no longer seeks to educate.&lt;br /&gt;It's purpose is different altogether.&lt;br /&gt;Rising cases of mental illnesses?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not surprised.&lt;br /&gt;After all that's what the system we're subjected to every single day wants us to become.&lt;br /&gt;Mechanical , brainless robots.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not cut out for this crap, serious.&lt;br /&gt;I feel no passion towards anything, my love for music is already starting to be stifled, my brain buckling under this immense torture.&lt;br /&gt;So what if we pass through the O levels and get good grades?&lt;br /&gt;By then our lives are so controlled and our personalities would have been moulded into lifeless, inflexible people with no desire to push the extra mile.&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't anyone get it?&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps they are too tired to resist this vicious attempt to snuff out the last flicker of joy in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's a little exaggerated.&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is my way of expressing my dislike towards all the bad things in life.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should write about the good things instead.&lt;br /&gt;Which can actually be counted with my fingers and toes.&lt;br /&gt;hahax.&lt;br /&gt;off to perth soon =D&lt;br /&gt;gotta rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111865923960822645?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111865923960822645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111865923960822645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111865923960822645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111865923960822645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/06/2-more-days-to-perth.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111832301220860899</id><published>2005-06-09T20:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T21:16:52.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Singapore students are known for one thing, not being able to think on their feet.&lt;br /&gt;This fact struck me hard in the head when mr kirpal singh mentioned that singaporeans can't think on their feet.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I credit this to our education system, where the best regurgitator tops the class.&lt;br /&gt;I grow sick and tired once again, maybe because i'm really ill for once.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lethargic and annoyed at everything I see.&lt;br /&gt;Worse thing is I can't even get to rest because i have endless things lined up in my schedule.&lt;br /&gt;Today's my only time to rest, and then homeworks and lots of other stuff comes into the picture.&lt;br /&gt;That really caused my frustration level to skyrocket.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, this sucks.&lt;br /&gt;Please stop blaming the students for lousy results, because I think there's not much of a good cause and motivation for them to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s Please donate to the 'danny fund' hahax, it's a fun to raise money to buy my wonderful bdae gift =D Contact sarah or angie (4e3) to donate =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My gosh i feel so shameless. hahax.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111832301220860899?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111832301220860899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111832301220860899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111832301220860899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111832301220860899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/06/singapore-students-are-known-for-one.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111815249984763311</id><published>2005-06-07T21:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T21:54:59.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Guess what, I just asked the Vjc person whether it was a confirmed entry to the college. Ended up it's not confirmed, but merely chosen.&lt;br /&gt;That means the school can reject me due to my lousy L1R5 of like 15?&lt;br /&gt;How great can that be?&lt;br /&gt;The worse thing is that i'm not joining the vj choir for their practices this holidays because i'm going perth!&lt;br /&gt;Probably it's gonna be my only chance of singing with them.&lt;br /&gt;So much for the false hope.&lt;br /&gt;Now the feeling of euphoria is totally gone.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps if i don't get in I haveta depend on results again.&lt;br /&gt;that means alternative routes besides Vjc.&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of insecurity is really unbearable though, perhaps what they said it true, the higher you hope the harder you fall.&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused as to what to expect, expect it to fail or pass?&lt;br /&gt;Now the teachers think I will definitely get a place and mdm tian keeps stressing me. so how?&lt;br /&gt;die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111815249984763311?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111815249984763311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111815249984763311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111815249984763311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111815249984763311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/06/guess-what-i-just-asked-vjc-person.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111710979543730691</id><published>2005-05-26T19:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T20:16:35.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have realised one of the very evil that plunges countless people into depression.&lt;br /&gt;Results.Results and more results.&lt;br /&gt;I really hate it so.&lt;br /&gt;Look at the world around you, teachers judge you according on how many distinction As you score.&lt;br /&gt;A 4-pointer student will naturally be deemed as superior&lt;br /&gt;The reverse applies, the weaker ones will be seen as normal, dull.&lt;br /&gt;As heard from the famous chinese poets, everyone was born for a purpose, everyone has their own special talents.&lt;br /&gt;How true is it? So what if Edison was deemed as an idiot in school? At least he had a caring mother which never gave up on him.&lt;br /&gt;Why does Singaporeans have this distorted image of education?&lt;br /&gt;To educate a child is to appreciate all the fine talents and develope them to their fullest potential.&lt;br /&gt;How far does this extend in the education system today?&lt;br /&gt;If your niche does not lie with academic abilities, I would say we're all probably condemned.&lt;br /&gt;Where do you go to develop other talents?&lt;br /&gt;Plus nothing's really happening to salvage the situation either.&lt;br /&gt;Just look around. Normal technical often have rock bottom self esteem. Why? Because when you're not perceived as intelligent, you are shunned and despised instantly.&lt;br /&gt;Parents don't help either, everytime parents gather together and gossip, this question is always ask.&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, your boi boi studying in what school ah? PSLE what tee score aH? What stream ah?"&lt;br /&gt;What would the parent of a Normal-technical child answer?&lt;br /&gt;" Oh my boy boy is studying normal tech only, his score is 150+"&lt;br /&gt;Then the parent who posed the question will reply with pretentious concern.&lt;br /&gt;" oh, nevermind lah."&lt;br /&gt;What does this parent really feel inside?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, ah sum's son is just a big dumbo, my son is better.&lt;br /&gt;This parent's child will then cast this condescending look at this incapable peer of his and sneer.&lt;br /&gt;So what if education policies focus on giving a holistic education?&lt;br /&gt;All of this are merely hogwash.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps that's why the number of outstanding people in Singapore are so pathetically little.&lt;br /&gt;Is it my fault that I don't score strings of A1s?&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it's because I'm not hardworking, but that shouldn't ever be used as a yardstick to measure my calibre.&lt;br /&gt;Drop all this talk of discovering and developing our talents, it is all but a farce.&lt;br /&gt;It is not within our power to choose our intellect or talents.&lt;br /&gt;Stop condescending and mocking those who don't score as well as you, be it that they are stupid or just less hardworking.&lt;br /&gt;I simply abhor and detest this facade I constantly live in.&lt;br /&gt;Free me from the shackles that bind me to the ground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111710979543730691?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111710979543730691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111710979543730691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111710979543730691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111710979543730691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-have-realised-one-of-very-evil-that.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111684728187615325</id><published>2005-05-23T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T19:21:21.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The day draws closer.&lt;br /&gt;A wave of guilt wells up inside me, I haven't been doing much .&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't bring myself too, I just don't have the mood for it.&lt;br /&gt;Oh man.&lt;br /&gt;What to do?&lt;br /&gt;Wat can I do?&lt;br /&gt;Hope everything goes well =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111684728187615325?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111684728187615325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111684728187615325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111684728187615325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111684728187615325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/05/day-draws-closer.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111684682192914586</id><published>2005-05-23T18:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T19:13:42.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>some of us hanker after it. Some claim they know it.&lt;br /&gt;Some say they were hurt by it as if they were really in it.&lt;br /&gt;It was something that used to be unreachable, something we could only imagine or fantasize, but never experiencing it before.&lt;br /&gt;When it comes it envelopes you completely in its beauty, leaving you succumbing totally to it.&lt;br /&gt;It takes your soul, but you never felt happier in your life before.&lt;br /&gt;It really comes when you least want it to, you'l never want it to leave again.&lt;br /&gt;it's amazing.... but what is it really?&lt;br /&gt;No one knows i guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111684682192914586?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111684682192914586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111684682192914586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111684682192914586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111684682192914586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/05/some-of-us-hanker-after-it.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111650916677458695</id><published>2005-05-19T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T21:26:06.856+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>30th may approaches, the day for the O level chinese exams.&lt;br /&gt;Part of me still remains in self-denial, refusing to succumb to the fact of settling down to study hard for the exams. The other parts worries about not getting results good enough to score a distinction.&lt;br /&gt;In the end it all boils down to the fact that I'm just lazy and I opt for the easiest way out. This is tou ji qu qiao in chinese. lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Exams do have one advantage though, they tire you out and suck out all you have, leaving you too tired to brood on things.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like this feeling, the feeling of being led around and being unaware of what's happening. Studying takes your mind off everything, which has its pros and cons. Okay I think I'm not exactly making any sense here.&lt;br /&gt;My mind's in a mess.&lt;br /&gt;The results from the exams really have adverse effects.&lt;br /&gt;Subjects you once thought you were good in suddenly hit rock bottom (maybe not tt low)&lt;br /&gt;Yet subjects you all along were weak in suddenly took a swerve for the better. Is that good or bad? Perhaps it's fated that no matter what I do, I'll end up with the same L1R5.&lt;br /&gt;I'm kinda experiencing the blogger's block, or maybe my faith in my english has dipped ever since I didn't get as much as I thought I would get.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, that's the adverse effects I was talking about. Now I kinda lost faith in my languages.&lt;br /&gt;What a great period for that to occur yeah? especially when the following monday is chinese O levels.&lt;br /&gt;Up till today I refuse to accept the fact that being good in studies will make you superior compared to others.&lt;br /&gt;But when I look at the application form which requires my school results, I sigh in shame.&lt;br /&gt;I don't score a endless string of D7s, but it's the fact that I don't score a string of A1s tt worries me. The world practices pragmatism, they don't keep people who are of no use. I often end up worrying, what if I'm not up to the standard? What if I'm just cut out to be some nobody that does insignificant things.&lt;br /&gt;There's just this part of me that would only be satisfied doing 'big' things that contrasts me from the rest of the crowd. Too bad this ambitious part of me is backed up by a disappointing useless half that doesn't like to work as hard as I should.&lt;br /&gt;It's precisely because people value academic capabilities too much in Singapore that all other talents are simply ignord.&lt;br /&gt;To them, high results = smart and good.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not surprised if we grow up to think that way, after being brainwashed for as long as we could remember.&lt;br /&gt;That's why I wory, if I will ruined by my not so outstanding results.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the stereotyped environment I live in.&lt;br /&gt;Enough of complaining. My DISC report says I tend to be complacent. I say it seems to be true. Oh wellx. Sorry if it was a boring and lousy piece of entry I got here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111650916677458695?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111650916677458695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111650916677458695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111650916677458695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111650916677458695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/05/30th-may-approaches-day-for-o-level.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111544433711414899</id><published>2005-05-07T13:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T16:21:26.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Everything's a facade, deceiving and alluring.&lt;br /&gt;we often cry to ourselves then, wondering aloud why is everything like this.&lt;br /&gt;But these cries are often unheard, only to resound in the deepest notch of our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;What is real then? I ask&lt;br /&gt;Is it the lies and drama that appears unceasingly in everywhere we go?&lt;br /&gt;Or was it the time when we were young, ignorant children?&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it was, for it was the only time that we ourselves are true&lt;br /&gt;Children never lie, everything to them appeared as far as the colours and shape of it.&lt;br /&gt;As we grow older, we struggle to create walls, fake masks to appear strong and brave in front of others.&lt;br /&gt;As Helena Kingshaw states. 'It is not always the bravest people that has the least fears"&lt;br /&gt;You grow to hate everything. Glory and glamour wither as the waves of time washes them away.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody would remember if you were their closest friend who went through endless troubles to help them.&lt;br /&gt;All that remains is the lingering memory of how they once loved you so, and the stark reality that proves otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;I struggle inside, I wish all of this was just my imagination. I want to look for something true and real. But I realised even adults have trouble themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Colleagues smile at each other and converse with pretentious politeness.&lt;br /&gt;Yet against each other's back they speak with malice and repugnance.&lt;br /&gt;Such hypocrisy.&lt;br /&gt;What does it exist?&lt;br /&gt;People say I'm naive. The world is cruel.&lt;br /&gt;It is, but surely there must be others like me who are searching for someone whom they can relate their real self to.&lt;br /&gt;It is with age and experience that comes knowledge and maturity.&lt;br /&gt;But it is also with age that one break free from their once perfect world where baddies are bad and heroes are good.&lt;br /&gt;It's sad when you come to know the true form of human life.&lt;br /&gt;It's just like how a teacher can be so friendly with you but in the end you find out she cares about the money more.&lt;br /&gt;It's just like how you thought you've got a friend there, but when you suddenly pose as a threat to that friend, the tables are turned.&lt;br /&gt;This isn't my first lament. It will never be the last either.&lt;br /&gt;I am filled with such grief, to think that I will soon lose the only true friends soon, as i graduate and move on, to college where more pretense and facades exists.&lt;br /&gt;As O levels draw near, the fear within me accumalates.&lt;br /&gt;it's not the exams that scares me, but the fact that I'll progress to places worse than it is now.&lt;br /&gt;Secondary 4 is the period of time when everything makes way for your studies.&lt;br /&gt;The time when you lose such precious remaining time studying so as to do something you don't like, just to survive.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps nothing goes your way after all.&lt;br /&gt;Or I'm just too pampered and protected.&lt;br /&gt;I just refuse to accept the truth.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there's a part of everyone that longs to demolish this wall of theirs that make them devoid of compassion.&lt;br /&gt;Be it hardcore criminals or those that we label as brave and undaunted.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it is because such criminals have been betrayed of their trust by jerks who has lost faith in people.&lt;br /&gt;It's a vicious cycle, you cheat others, others lose faith and cheat others.&lt;br /&gt;You don't trust others, they don't trust you, and all you get is relationship comparable to an empty shell.&lt;br /&gt;So to those who are so free such that you read my blog, be the nicest you can be to everyone today =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s. perhap i have lost my mind to write all this nonsensical thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111544433711414899?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111544433711414899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111544433711414899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111544433711414899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111544433711414899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/05/everythings-facade-deceiving-and.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111356697903019486</id><published>2005-04-15T19:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T20:09:39.033+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So tired...&lt;br /&gt;Never felt like breaking down until now. I guess I'm starting to fall sick already.&lt;br /&gt;Sad.&lt;br /&gt;Now everything REALLY seems to end.&lt;br /&gt;Uniform groups are stepping down too. Everything is starting to step down.&lt;br /&gt;Mine's next week.&lt;br /&gt;Am I supposed to be happy?&lt;br /&gt;Yes it's going to create alot of free time for me, but in the end it's all just eaten up by studying and mugging like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;So much for placing LESS focus on exams.&lt;br /&gt;I think we're all so sick and tired that if they do suddenly lessen the load on students, we'll just spend all the time trying to make up for our lost childhood.&lt;br /&gt;So sick and tired.&lt;br /&gt;I still feel alienated in my class somehow. Can't feel anything inside, or maybe i'm just too numb for anything like tt.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow there are many people who are just from different worlds.&lt;br /&gt;After stepping down I'll have lesser contact with juniors already.&lt;br /&gt;That kinda = drifting away from them.&lt;br /&gt;How happy can I be when I know that I have to go through 7-8 months of intensive drilling right now?&lt;br /&gt;I want to. But i JUST don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not the kind tt studies as if it's my life.&lt;br /&gt;Does this mean I'll flunk my exams?&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop projecting this negative influence over myself.&lt;br /&gt;I feel I haven't enjoyed enough.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I never will.&lt;br /&gt;Haix. Going all through this alone is tough.&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness is scary, loneliness kills.&lt;br /&gt;But it isn't something you can just dispel as you wish.&lt;br /&gt;Help =*(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111356697903019486?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111356697903019486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111356697903019486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111356697903019486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111356697903019486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/04/so-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111348896548147392</id><published>2005-04-14T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T22:29:25.483+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We are all weird people sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;When we have something or do something, we tend to complain about it's flaws and the pain it brings.&lt;br /&gt;But when we have to part we it, we cannot bear to part with the good things that it brings.&lt;br /&gt;Life is really short, too short to not enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;Just a blink of the eye and it's time to stop choir and concentrate on my studies.&lt;br /&gt;Concentrate. That's what all the teachers want, but I don't really feel settled down inside.&lt;br /&gt;Life suddenly loses one of it's major purposes, only to be replaced by some crap.&lt;br /&gt;Haix.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going off now. been feeling sick all day.&lt;br /&gt;Must be e air-con&lt;br /&gt;hahas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111348896548147392?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111348896548147392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111348896548147392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111348896548147392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111348896548147392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/04/we-are-all-weird-people-sometimes.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111270275029136771</id><published>2005-04-05T19:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T20:05:50.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>oh my god... I can't believe&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and GEntleman, CHOIR GOT GOLD! GOLD GOLD gold gold gold GOLD gold!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it!&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T believe it..!!&lt;br /&gt;All the hard work, all the pain, all the unhappiness.&lt;br /&gt;GOLD!&lt;br /&gt;I can't get over it man.&lt;br /&gt;The gold was especially sweet, because we ENJOYED singing at the conference hall.&lt;br /&gt;I could still vividly remember... 12.30pm++&lt;br /&gt;All of us were waiting SUPER SUPER anxiously waiting the choir room.&lt;br /&gt;Then I smsed my conductor, asking why it took so long.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly my hp vibrated, while everyone was waiting nervously.&lt;br /&gt;I pushed yes button and I saw. WE GOT GOLD!!!&lt;br /&gt;I was simply hysterical. I screamed, WE GOT GOLD!!! GOLD!!! GOLD!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;and everyone roared! Oh man, I could still remember the happiness. EVERYONE went crazy. WE went outside to cheer and shouted to the whole school. WE GOT GOLD!!!!&lt;br /&gt;This is the best thing that happened to me this year, amidst all the unhappy thing. I feel so light. so happy.&lt;br /&gt;Man.&lt;br /&gt;5th april 2005. a happy day indeed...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111270275029136771?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111270275029136771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111270275029136771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111270275029136771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111270275029136771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/04/oh-my-god.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111251506287895135</id><published>2005-04-03T15:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T15:57:42.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm still unable to get over the dance thing. I can't imagine how the rest of the Sls would react when the get the news on monday. Sad....&lt;br /&gt;Well at least we have a little powerpoint slide show reflecting on the journey of the SLs. It sure took the excos they all time and effort to create it so we shouldn't complain too much. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;At least we get to eat stuffiex and enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;So much for the last investiture though.&lt;br /&gt;Man I hate it when I'm reminded it's the last.&lt;br /&gt;Everything's the last,My journey in secondary school has ended.&lt;br /&gt;It's time to go soon.&lt;br /&gt;Why must I? I barely got to really enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna leave, there are so many things that I love so dearly.&lt;br /&gt;To think that I would have to leave my class, leave the student leader board. Leaving all my friends, not being able to see her again. How bad can it get....&lt;br /&gt;Haix.&lt;br /&gt;Why must you be so cruel?&lt;br /&gt;I waited patiently, I never asked for anything.&lt;br /&gt;All I needed to know was that you are happy and safe.&lt;br /&gt;But it seems that you will never know how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;The pain of neglection...&lt;br /&gt;And just when I was ready to accept someone else, you had to come back and make me fall hard.&lt;br /&gt;Stop torturing me, I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;Stop flying me up high into the sky, only to let me fall so hard as you release me from your embrace.&lt;br /&gt;stop...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111251506287895135?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111251506287895135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111251506287895135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111251506287895135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111251506287895135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-still-unable-to-get-over-dance.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111176221834660766</id><published>2005-03-25T22:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T22:50:18.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder, why do I have a name?&lt;br /&gt;Or should I say, why is mine danny?&lt;br /&gt;Not that I seriously detest my name, but I just can't help but ponder over why is mine danny. If I had a different name, would I just be another person? Danny sounds like a joker, and I behave like a joker. If I had another serious name like err errx, some chinese name. Would I be different?&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it, the impression of names are influenced greatly by the friends who are named after it. Like for me, darren is the name of my elder brother, yet also a name of an excellent friend and student in my class. Who knows to many people out there, Darren is a name of a bum, or the name of their best friend? So mine is danny, nothing special, nothing plain.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've given the impression that danny is a name for lazy clowns.&lt;br /&gt;It's really amazing, how one person may seem so significant in a small community, yet so small compared to the billions of people on earth.&lt;br /&gt;Why does some of us turn out to be household names, yet some are just loners whom nobody remembers when they die?&lt;br /&gt;It give me the shudders to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;Yet worries me, maybe next time i'll just be like that.&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself I'm not as bad as the rest, but everything people just step on me and my results just proves it so.&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself it's unfair because I lose out in certain areas.&lt;br /&gt;But I guess nobody owes me anything.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111176221834660766?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111176221834660766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111176221834660766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111176221834660766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111176221834660766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/sometimes-i-wonder-why-do-i-have-name.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111158219389780981</id><published>2005-03-23T20:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T20:49:53.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Drowning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't pretend you're sorry&lt;br /&gt;I know you're not&lt;br /&gt;You know you got the power&lt;br /&gt;To make me weak inside&lt;br /&gt;And girl you leave me breathless&lt;br /&gt;But it's okay&lt;br /&gt;Cuz you are my survival&lt;br /&gt;Now hear me say&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine a life&lt;br /&gt;Without your love&lt;br /&gt;Even forever don't seem like long enough&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;Cuz everytime I breathe I take you in&lt;br /&gt;And my heart beats again&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;Keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;And everytime I try to rise above&lt;br /&gt;I'm swept away by love&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;I keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm a drifter or maybe not&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I am only safe here floating freely in your arms&lt;br /&gt;I don't need another lifeline it's not for me&lt;br /&gt;Cuz only you can save me oh can't you see&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine a life without your love&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; even forever don't seem like long enough&lt;br /&gt;Cuz everytime I breathe I take you in&lt;br /&gt;And my heart beats again&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;Keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;And everytime I try to rise above&lt;br /&gt;I'm swept away by love&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;I keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;Go on and pull me under&lt;br /&gt;Cover me with dreams&lt;br /&gt;Love me mouth to mouth now&lt;br /&gt;You know I can't resist cuz you'rethe air that I breathe&lt;br /&gt;Cuz everytime I breathe I take you in(Everytime I breathe)&lt;br /&gt;And my heart beats againBaby I can't help it ( Baby I can't help it)&lt;br /&gt;Keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I try to rise aboveI'm swept away by loveBaby I can't help itKeep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;Keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;Got me drowning&lt;br /&gt;Got me drowning(Got me drowning in your love)&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it(Can't help it can't help it no no)&lt;br /&gt;Cuz everytime I breathe I take you in&lt;br /&gt;And my heart beats again&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;Keep drowning in your love&lt;br /&gt;And everytime I try to rise above&lt;br /&gt;I'm swept away by love&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't help it&lt;br /&gt;Keep drowning in ur love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111158219389780981?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111158219389780981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111158219389780981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111158219389780981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111158219389780981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/drowning.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111131678444784455</id><published>2005-03-20T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-20T19:06:24.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>End of the march holidays, or 'holidays' should be more appropriate?&lt;br /&gt;wEll I should be grateful. At least there were a few days where I could take my time to sleep up or go to east coast park to roller blade.&lt;br /&gt;I'm kinda unwilling for it to end though, I'm sure everyone would agree, because it'll be another continuous struggle till june.&lt;br /&gt;Oh man I'm suffering from the strenuous monotony of daily routine.&lt;br /&gt;Are we doomed to not be able to be happy and carefree as we age?&lt;br /&gt;I'm still an innocent young boy! (tsk tsk)&lt;br /&gt;Really don't feel like continuing, homework's still half done too.&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'll have to return to the cluttered mess of paper and books at my desk soon.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder why am I living in such a controlled environment?&lt;br /&gt;This isn't my life, it only will be when my life isn't programmed and planned out like a robot.&lt;br /&gt;now I feel like a laboratory test subject.&lt;br /&gt;hahax, that's just exaggeration. I guess I don't even know what I'm crapping since half of my is watching brainless cartoons.&lt;br /&gt;They happen to be rather interesting too.&lt;br /&gt;Sheesh, I'm just trying to relieve myself from the gloom or returning to school.&lt;br /&gt;Sad. struggle struggle.&lt;br /&gt;Plus Syf's coming sooooo soon. Oh man. Don't know if we're ready or not.&lt;br /&gt;How sad.&lt;br /&gt;still waiting for her to come&lt;br /&gt;waiting...&lt;br /&gt;waiting...&lt;br /&gt;sad. I know she'll never do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111131678444784455?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111131678444784455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111131678444784455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111131678444784455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111131678444784455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/end-of-march-holidays-or-holidays.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111116097627499063</id><published>2005-03-18T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T23:49:36.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What a stupid day today has been.&lt;br /&gt;Hahax, weird too.&lt;br /&gt;Went for choir and got embarrased lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Wellx it's partially my fault I went to disturb brandon, but at least I did in because he wasn't moving and I wanted to make him walk right?&lt;br /&gt;yup yup, good intentions.&lt;br /&gt;Ended up getting snubbed by the same few ppl who can't wait to see me fall.&lt;br /&gt;Wellx, I don't deny that I am sad that I'll be leaving, but there's this compelling urge to leave too.&lt;br /&gt;Probably because it'll relieve me of some pain.&lt;br /&gt;It's really amazing how unpredictable life can be.&lt;br /&gt;It's just like a roulette, you never know where your life would be.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you could be the most famous celebrity in the world, the next moment, shunned and spat at.&lt;br /&gt;Previously I mentioned about how syf is coming.&lt;br /&gt;Wellx, in fact, it is nearer than ever before.&lt;br /&gt;In a blink of an eye. Choir for me in Xinmin is over.&lt;br /&gt;What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to be sad?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;There's this part of me inside, fond of all the wonderful memories. Melizo II, Syf 2003, Melizo III. All the wonderful times I used to haf back when I was sec 1 and 2.&lt;br /&gt;Another part of me inside can't wait to leave. Free from the burden, the heavy load I've been carrying all along.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure many would be happy to see me leave too. But what I can't bear is those who have spent time being my friend.&lt;br /&gt;Guess I would stand by the statement I haf said. I won't be guilty since I've tried my best.&lt;br /&gt;It's such a pity. How things have changed so much over the years.&lt;br /&gt;Guess I didn't do the right thing. that's why it's like this.&lt;br /&gt;I'm in such a dilemma. haish.&lt;br /&gt;After all I'm finally stepping down, and I've done what I am supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;There were happy times though, planning the camp, paintin the in de dark of e night costume, so on and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I can't have an ideal ending to this.&lt;br /&gt;So much for my happy ending. (ohh ohhhh[avril =D])&lt;br /&gt;ahhx, laming again.&lt;br /&gt;YOU, STOP READING ALL THE stupiD cRap dAnnY's TYPING!&lt;br /&gt;lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Life's so cruel. I've gone one big round, preaching, telling myself life is great.&lt;br /&gt;Picking myself up, after ppl told me it isn't so bad. I'm not so bad.&lt;br /&gt;So I foolishly believed.&lt;br /&gt;I want to. But in the end everything goes one big damned round and back to the original point.&lt;br /&gt;I can't run away from what I am. Can't lie man.&lt;br /&gt;But I still want to be happy. Since I'm so useless, might as wellx make myself happy. Hohohohohohohohohoho.&lt;br /&gt;Depression's such a tempting vicious thing.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be happy. boohoo.&lt;br /&gt;Guess I need to find things that make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;It's been like, 8 months since I ever felt happy?&lt;br /&gt;I've never did, even if I was playing, chatting, smiling like an idiot, out with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;There's still this lock that binds my heart&lt;br /&gt;Set me free.&lt;br /&gt;I'm too young to be thinking this way, Life has many things left for me to discover.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just thinking too much.&lt;br /&gt;Yupx, I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111116097627499063?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111116097627499063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111116097627499063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111116097627499063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111116097627499063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-stupid-day-today-has-been.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111098521978322814</id><published>2005-03-16T22:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T23:00:19.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Suddenly this thought came into my head.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I complain tt choir juniors nowadays haf lousy commitments and attitude. But think again, they may love to skip choir, but I'm starting to feel a little tired towards choir too.&lt;br /&gt;I hate to admit it.&lt;br /&gt;I hate to face it but it is true.&lt;br /&gt;Why? I ask myself.&lt;br /&gt;Is it because everytime I try to tell them to work harder because of my anxiety, and end uup making them listen to my crap and thus pissing them off?&lt;br /&gt;It's true tt it did make me feel scared, afraid to tell them anything again.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes in exasperation I stop trying, I give up, unable to take it.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, my conscience feels extremely uncomfortable for it knows I have been irresponsible and I have not given my best.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, it's such a dilemma.&lt;br /&gt;These factors and more causes me to dislike choir to a minimal extent.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want that to happen, I miss the days when I was sec 1 and 2, when the people in the choir may be attitude, vulgar. But inside these unexpected people was a hidden passion, the love they had. It was amazing, it made syf 2003 the best one I ever had, even though we didn't get gold.&lt;br /&gt;I really wonder, it must be because of me. All the wrong thing I've done.&lt;br /&gt;It's so sad, I hate to say it, but it is.&lt;br /&gt;No matter what the reasons are, I'm just not very happy because it gives me a feeling tt it's because of the sec 4 leaders, tt's why it has become like this.&lt;br /&gt;Sad man. Why must it be like this? I really want to give it my best, just like i did for the last one. But the feeling's just not there.&lt;br /&gt;Frustrating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111098521978322814?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111098521978322814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111098521978322814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111098521978322814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111098521978322814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/suddenly-this-thought-came-into-my.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111097984043220910</id><published>2005-03-16T21:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T21:30:40.433+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been feeling much more relieved nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;Happier, lighter, much better. Thanks to all my friends and phantom of the opera. lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Have been thinking a little these few days. Suddenly I feel so guilty.&lt;br /&gt;For the past few weeks, I felt so sick and tired of choir that I kind of gave up on it, refusing to put in much effort, even in my own singing part. Felt as if I suddenly lost touch on my singing.&lt;br /&gt;I've read a post on my friends blog, felt tt it was so inspirational. I hope choir members are reading this.&lt;br /&gt;The reason why we(choir in this case) want is gold isn't for the school. Xinmin will still continue to attain excellent(??) academic results. It's not for all the wonderful choir teachers too. They will still continue living their lives and teaching their classes no matter we get a gold or not.It doesn't affect Mr yong too. Because Mr yong can just quit teaching xinmin and there will be many schools waiting to call him up to conduct their choirs. It's for us, the overwhelming joy and satisfaction we will derive from getting a gold, as well as the guilt of knowing full well we could have gotten a gold but because we refused to do so and thus, giving up a gold.&lt;br /&gt;It kind of woke me up, making me realise all I have been doing is lamenting all the way, and not giving my best in singing.&lt;br /&gt;I'm guilty of it too, because I can easily refuse to work hard for syf and nothing will still happen. After all I've got all the Cca points I need, president, student leader. If I were to do something, cca points are definitely not the correct motivation.&lt;br /&gt;So I could easily just slack around, and perform badly or not push the choir harder. The choir can just get a silver for all I care.&lt;br /&gt;But I'll be guilty for the rest of my life, knowing full well I could haf given my best effort and probably made a difference to the overall outcome.&lt;br /&gt;Think of the days we have left, it would hurt if I just tried my best for god's sake. If the choir still fails to get a gold, I wouldn't be sad, because I can confidently say that I have done my best. Won't be living with guilt either.&lt;br /&gt;Even though I know tt if the choir didn't get a gold, part of the fault still lies with me, no matter how i try to run from it.&lt;br /&gt;Think I'm going tell the choir this, provided they are interested in listening or not.&lt;br /&gt;Oh wellx.&lt;br /&gt;Gonna strive my best.&lt;br /&gt;I'm suddenly inspired in a way.Kinda feels good. hahax.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111097984043220910?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111097984043220910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111097984043220910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111097984043220910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111097984043220910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/ive-been-feeling-much-more-relieved.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111055113634949928</id><published>2005-03-11T21:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-11T22:25:36.353+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here I am, attempting to give a little short recount on my life.&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? things haf improved! my happiness campaign has started to show some results. Not bad huh.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, if you don't want you friday weekly notebook they gave today. PLS PLS PLS give me. hahas.&lt;br /&gt;Today I went for chinese opera workshop at ahmad ibrahim, at the pricey expense of missing choir session!!&lt;br /&gt;The workshop was kinda okies, and the guy who sang was really professional hahas. I discovered something too, girls who learn music from other schools are sooooo pretty lorx. Like ten times prettier than the ones i see everyday. so sad rite?woops, girls reading this blog, so sorry =(&lt;br /&gt;See i'm starting to be able to joke already. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;So sad, I heard today's choir session was kinda good, argh, that added on to the guilt inside me. Aiyax, I hope choir is gearing up to it's tip top condition.&lt;br /&gt;Seems like many ppl don't know tt syf's super super super close.&lt;br /&gt;I myself seriously don't feel the tension and spirit yet. Now that's worrying.&lt;br /&gt;Alright troubles aside, argh, I still can't forget the workshop cos I did see a few pretty girls over there. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;After all I'm still a swinging bachelor(hahas), so you can't blame me for noticing such things.&lt;br /&gt;Now to a sensitive topic, I'm not sure if any school authorities would happen to pass by here, but I hope they're willing to open minded accept the facts.&lt;br /&gt;When I passed by sarah tee's blog, I found myself agreeing to all she had to say.&lt;br /&gt;I used to look forward to attending school during my sec 1 year, with all the fun activities and cute tings my school had. Now it has all degenerated to a pack of measures implemented to save the pride of our school administration and stifling rules.&lt;br /&gt;I must agree that we have a vast majority of brainless students in our school too. People who spew vulgarities at every chance, those who behave like animals dancing around for people to sneer at, worse still, they all have a common problem-pride. Girls are not getting any better too. Tucking in their shirt and tying up their hair properly suddenly turned into an excruciating task to do, and skirts are getting shorter and shorter that soon they can wear mini-skirts and show off their undergarments. I've heard of how girls will laugh at insult friends who have skirts of acceptable length, calling them nerds and things like that. When I heard it I was rather shocked, I couldn't understand how girls in XINMIN, yes XINMIN, like to turn themselves into cheap sluts in bid to attract equally atrocious guys. No they're not only from normal and technical, although they have a higher share of them, but they are people from the express stream too, people sitting near to me in class every single day.&lt;br /&gt;It's really sad to think of it. Yes girls complain about guys, but I don't know if they know if, but we complain about girls equally. Of course girls nowadays are more towards the feminist side so our comments are mere whispers to their iron faces. Okay i'm generalising, not all girls. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like mixing with vain girls too much anyways. Not like I would appeal to them since i'm not a vain, punkish, warped 'bad boy' myself.&lt;br /&gt;ouch tt's a bunch of really nasty remarks. Hate to say it.&lt;br /&gt;But everyday I go to school, people in school prove to me once again through pathetically childish conversation and behaviors. In extreme cases, they STICK that vicks thing into their nose and shout and scream like retarded monkeys!&lt;br /&gt;I was like, I never want to be in the same school as them again.&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad i'm going soon. out of this kind of place.&lt;br /&gt;But as every stick has two sides, I'll miss the joy and all the good things Xinmin gave me- the wonderful friends and teaches*terms and conditions apply*&lt;br /&gt;Life like this, no point lamenting over things tt can't be changed.&lt;br /&gt;That links me to my be-happy campaign!&lt;br /&gt;It makes life less torturing. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;Takkaires to all =D&lt;br /&gt;The danny tt's trying to be happy =DDDDDD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111055113634949928?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111055113634949928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111055113634949928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111055113634949928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111055113634949928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/here-i-am-attempting-to-give-little.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-111003028488093870</id><published>2005-03-05T21:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T20:28:20.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All right, enough is enough.&lt;br /&gt;I'm determined to snap myself out of all these depression once and for all.&lt;br /&gt;Even though I know nobody would even bother what I'm doing, I'm gonna start an 180 degree paradigm shift, for the good of my life.&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I've wasted so much time, my life is dead, my grades are dead, and I've dwindled to being just a irritating pest in the eyes of many.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to be pathetic. I'm not going to be just a worm.&lt;br /&gt;It's going to hard I guess, since everything in my life saddens me.&lt;br /&gt;My school life, my CCA, the look my friends give me.&lt;br /&gt;But that isn't enough to ruin me and cause me to be miserable.&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand and walk on, even if I most probably have to walk alone.&lt;br /&gt;It's stupid to be sad over whether ppl cares about you, the world is selfish,&lt;br /&gt;there's no meaning to bother so much about other people when they don't care much about you.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to be so concious anymore, if I'm not pleasant to the eye, I guess it's just plain normal.&lt;br /&gt;I realised when you are no longer chatting or talking a person, or no longer have a rather superior position in the heart of the person, you are just plainly forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;So what's the point of trying so hard to be nice to a person, sometimes you're just a puppet, a mere clown in their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Once you offend them, or seem to be just a plain unworthy fellow, you're just eliminated from their friends list.&lt;br /&gt;Cruel, selfish. But that's just how the world works.&lt;br /&gt;yes I hate it, but the world is unfair.&lt;br /&gt;If you're not handsome, you're neither tall nor strong. you're just a worm.&lt;br /&gt;people &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;don't &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;even care if you don't talk to them or help them anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it suxs man. suxs suxs. But guess what?&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;DOESN'T &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;matter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen past those shallow creatures. I've seen friendship tt's real&lt;br /&gt;or at least more precious.&lt;br /&gt;I don't see the point of acting like a fool, saying hi to a person tt doesn't even care of want you to talk to them.&lt;br /&gt;What a big fat farking fool i've been.&lt;br /&gt;No longer going to bother about them, even if it means neglecting many.&lt;br /&gt;It's not like they even care about what I do or say.&lt;br /&gt;well i think it's because i'm saying all this in a fit of a moment.&lt;br /&gt;Lately I really think that I'm really foolish, thinking people talk to you and be your friend once you try hard enough to be theirs.&lt;br /&gt;The outcome is always the same, the person would already have some 'handsome' boyfriend or some older guy, all of which are ten times more important that I am.&lt;br /&gt;So why bother about them right? hahax.&lt;br /&gt;I'll still be friends lah, just tt i won't be so stupid as to really think I'm someone they will think of, or care for.&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna be cheerful! yes i really am. I am I am!&lt;br /&gt;Those who look down on me, just you wait. I'm just going to prove you all wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-111003028488093870?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/111003028488093870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=111003028488093870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111003028488093870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/111003028488093870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2005/03/all-right-enough-is-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-110269285783772767</id><published>2004-12-10T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T23:34:17.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eons&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Time is so contradicting. We can focus on time to such details of minutes and seconds. Yet many a time we neglect it so much that we don't notice that time flies. Or maybe it's just me. Hahax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  I hope JANA is reading what I'm blogging now. cos u're the one den pestered me to blog. hahax.Wellx, I'm really glad that we finally chatted like old frens after EONS hahax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  I really got no idea what to blog about hahax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  I'm not the kind that likes to tell about what happened in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;guess life's been great fer me. nothing too good, nothing too bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;anyways I changed the music for my blog. it's my favorite oldie(maybe not tt old) hahax. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  I'm tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;no more crap for u all to read anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hahax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-110269285783772767?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/110269285783772767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=110269285783772767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110269285783772767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110269285783772767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/12/eons-time-is-so-contradicting.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-110163123403185109</id><published>2004-11-28T16:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T16:40:34.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I survived!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Finally endured through all the camps. sure wasn't easy. just glad to come back to my own bed after barely sleeping much for all the camps so far. Finally things got a little turn for the better. The camps seemed to made all of us stronger. Obs was totally great. But i kinda miss my grp, but they never seem contact wif any xinmin ppl.SL camp seemed to be great too. I guess the sec 2s have a real huge task to push themselves harder so as to take over us. pity them a little. but I'm quite sure they can do it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As the time draws nearer, the finally hurdle seems apparent. Gonna be a really tall one to jump. but after that. I'm gonna be leaving alot of things. I guess it's necessary, to prepare myself for another giant obstacle to jump over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Not going to think of all these sadthings. rather continue to live in this wonderful dream i've been having. guess camps detaches u from reality. SOOO soo soo good. but we don't see e bad side of life. but i'm not gonna see em until i'm forced to. hahax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks to all choir members who made the choir camp '04 possible and successful. esp the committee who worked their butts off. hahax. take care everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-110163123403185109?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/110163123403185109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=110163123403185109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110163123403185109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110163123403185109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-survived-finally-endured-through-all.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-110044589567410850</id><published>2004-11-14T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T23:24:55.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>  Ahh.Time passes so fast. Going to Obs on tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;Just realised I've been busy around a few things lately.&lt;br /&gt;Choir camp's almost settled. But I kinda took too long to do it.&lt;br /&gt;Can't blame it. i'm just lousy as usual so it's okay.&lt;br /&gt;Guess my blog's really rotting.&lt;br /&gt;But I thought before I went on a series of MORE camps&lt;br /&gt;better blog. It's going to be a real rough ride.&lt;br /&gt;don't know how my piano will die.Can't practise it for 2 weeks straight.&lt;br /&gt;haix. Worried liao.&lt;br /&gt;So if you guys happen to be reading this. I won't be replying for loong time. Not like i blog often. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow. Blogs are a source of controversy.&lt;br /&gt;A conflict can be made worse by blogs.&lt;br /&gt;tagboards allow people to hurt u wif words.&lt;br /&gt;Teachers make use of blogs to monitor you and make u feel unsafe.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why something's always holding me back before I blog.&lt;br /&gt;blogging sometimes is just a matter on blabbling to.&lt;br /&gt;Why tell everyone what happened in your life?&lt;br /&gt;Just a pure recount of your daily events.&lt;br /&gt;It does provide free gossiping news without even having to ask or find out.&lt;br /&gt;But it also gives rise to opportunities for acquaintance maybe?&lt;br /&gt;hahax.&lt;br /&gt;so I guess don't always complain tt I nv blog because i realli got nothing to say.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like the idea of telling everyone what happened in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Well. Yesterday was the 2nd time in my whole life tt i actually took a neoprint. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;don't wanna look at it cause it'll remind me how ugly I am.&lt;br /&gt;tt's why i hate fotos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-110044589567410850?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/110044589567410850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=110044589567410850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110044589567410850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110044589567410850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/11/ahh.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-110010136531118528</id><published>2004-11-10T23:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-10T23:42:45.313+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-110010136531118528?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/110010136531118528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=110010136531118528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110010136531118528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/110010136531118528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109940850054419324</id><published>2004-11-02T22:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T23:15:00.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fool&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What is a fool? why must there be fools? I don't know, because I'm a big fat one myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What do you call a person who does things, and enlists help of others to help, only to be greeted by people who simply don't appreciate and thank you for? Yes. you got it, a fool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sorry, was kinda affected. by some factors which I won't go into greater details.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I just don't get it. How can people change to be of such a bad character?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They say it's not the world that changes, it's us that do. I agree too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But why has it progressed to such a day where people are complacent, they are not grateful of what you do. They complain of everything. Teachers spend hours on things to make worksheets or assessments, yet all they can think of is to complain and yak. Totally unaware of how hurt the teacher might be. They complain about everything, they are so selfish. They never do things that are beneficial to them directly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've seen it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've heard it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I hate it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A few years back I was ignorant, and I was probably like them too. But today I am fully aware how frustrating it is to teach or help people who don't care at all. Why bother then? Well. That's up to you to think. Everyone has a reason for everything they do. even though it makes them look like a fool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How sad. Is it just me that sucks? or is it the newer generation? or is it just Singapore?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Totally Dissapointed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Never knew how atrocious and absolutely @#$@#$(can't find a word to describe it) people are nowadays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So very sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109940850054419324?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109940850054419324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109940850054419324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109940850054419324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109940850054419324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/11/fool-what-is-fool-why-must-there-be.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109928187387858847</id><published>2004-11-01T11:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T12:04:33.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Haven't been blogging for some time now. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;My theory exam has just passed. thought it was quite okay, hope this time i can scrape another distinction like the past papers, but i don't know whether i can or not. After the exam I went to bugis with mummy and ate teppan-yaki or sumthing. Aiya, the tie ban shao. Lolx. Then went home and rotted.&lt;br /&gt;Haix, Sunday was worse. Woke up and played computer, then brought my brother down to play frisbee, came home AND rotted again.&lt;br /&gt;Today looks like it's going to be a repeat of yesterday. I'm sOOOO bored. My whole body feels so dead and numb. So boring. Lucky there is school tomorrow. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;I'm too bored and numb for any feelings already.&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though i'm cut off from communication.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much to blog about, guess there isn't much to say anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109928187387858847?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109928187387858847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109928187387858847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109928187387858847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109928187387858847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/11/havent-been-blogging-for-some-time-now.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109879793904475627</id><published>2004-10-26T21:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T21:38:59.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>finally back to update the blog.&lt;br /&gt;Days are getting a little monotonous, everything's slowing down in school. Had free lessons most of the time these few days because higher chinese people have extra lessons, so not so high chinese people like me just happily settled for time to idle and chat.&lt;br /&gt;This saturday's going to be theory exam, i'm starting to feel a bit of anxiety already. Hahax, hope it's not hard.&lt;br /&gt;Holidays are coming sooo fast. Yet I'm SOOO scared. going to have 3 camps almost consecutively from 16-28! and my practical exam is on the 30th. Now i'm kinda scared. My pieces are settled entirely yet. haish.&lt;br /&gt;I've been better, nowadays have lesser stress and I'm feeling lighter. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;It's kinda sad cause i heard quite a few sec 2s are not doing so well for their streaming, and some of them are kinda good in their other subjects. How sad.&lt;br /&gt;Guess combined science isn't bad either.&lt;br /&gt;The year is coming to an end so quickly. Can't bear to step into sec 4.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't like the idea of studying like crazy everyday. Boo hoo =(&lt;br /&gt;Suan le lah. I'm scared it might rain during OBS, it would be soooo argh..&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is going to be the school inter-house game, which means i have to don that red shirt that makes me look extra ugly and sit along watching those guys show their skills. It would be better if everyone got to join in something, but it always doesn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;nevermind, kinda tired liaox. cannot blog anymore..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109879793904475627?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109879793904475627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109879793904475627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109879793904475627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109879793904475627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/10/finally-back-to-update-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109844773832019186</id><published>2004-10-22T19:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-22T20:22:18.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finally all the papers are back and gone through. It was tiring, not only the exams but the receiving of the results. Kinda scary. It was better than I thought since I haven't studied much this time. Got 3 As and a couple of Bs and Cs.&lt;br /&gt;Wait.&lt;br /&gt;Piano exams are coming. Hahax. Guess they are never ending.&lt;br /&gt;I've never felt that exams are over anyway.&lt;br /&gt;The end of the exams was only a symbol of another chapter of of life.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like running away. Far far away. I don't want to grow up, I don't want to accept the looming responsibilities and torture that lies ahead.&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to live stress free and carefree like those we often see in movies and stories.&lt;br /&gt;Why do we have famous quotes on how to live life to the fullest? How can we do so when we're simply restricted by everything we do. I know it's alright to be pushed and stretched, stressed and pressurized. But I can't deny that I have grown afraid of it. Scared.&lt;br /&gt;What if i'll never be able to get a job? what if i'm just someone mediocre all my life?&lt;br /&gt;perhaps it's fated.&lt;br /&gt;perhaps it was made to be like this.&lt;br /&gt;Who cares yeah?&lt;br /&gt;The truth never fails to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Hope everything's going to be fine =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109844773832019186?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109844773832019186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109844773832019186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109844773832019186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109844773832019186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/10/finally-all-papers-are-back-and-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109827584333212959</id><published>2004-10-20T20:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T20:37:23.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finally decided to give my blog a little revamp and reviving it from it's currently dead status.&lt;br /&gt;The Exam's are finally over, or should I say, over for some time already... Got some of my results back, still quite okay. haish, at least it's okay enuff for me, a couple of As and 2 Cs. lolx.&lt;br /&gt;Lots of things have changed since my last post.&lt;br /&gt;how?&lt;br /&gt;Well, could finally accept the cruel truth about the people around us. None of us were made to be perfect anyways, although some were really defective.&lt;br /&gt;Sad to say, but i'm lost again in the sea of uncertainty.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I feel so afraid, I really am. The thought of having to progress to secondary 4, graduate from choir, leave xinmin, TAKE O LEVELS makes my hands and feet cold.&lt;br /&gt;It's just too fast, I haven't enjoyed much of the life here in the secondary school. Stressful as it may be, its the only period of time when you really grow and mature, and to ponder upon your existance and enjoy the friendships so dear. But it all ends too fast.&lt;br /&gt;Life beyond the school gates seem so intimidating. Friends may not be friends, people fighting over money. Everything's bad, everything fades.&lt;br /&gt;Haix.&lt;br /&gt;I really hope to enjoy the holidays, but something's stuck there in my heart that really stops me from enjoying anything.&lt;br /&gt;Everyday seems to be dull and boring, getting the results back ain't making it any better. Even if I've gotten the top in class(wich is impossible), I'm doubt I would even feel a tinge of delight.&lt;br /&gt;I don't wish to understand, I'm just confused. But I guess I'll be okay&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes those that seem higher are afraid of falling down.&lt;br /&gt;Holidays are coming soon. but I don't look forward to it? Why?&lt;br /&gt;that's not for me to know.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway added sum blog music and stuff. for the handful of people who happens to read my blog, please give comments so i can kinda change it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109827584333212959?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109827584333212959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109827584333212959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109827584333212959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109827584333212959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/10/finally-decided-to-give-my-blog-little.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109379157351306439</id><published>2004-08-29T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-29T22:59:33.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>been so long since I last blogged, so sorry eh.&lt;br /&gt;Do you all see a white image when you come? the background full of some angelfire image de, do tell me if you see them.&lt;br /&gt;Won't really blog on past events like they say, what's past is meant to be gone.&lt;br /&gt;Today was my grandmother's birthday, didn't really love to go to such places all along, because there is practically nothing for me to do. The younger ones are running around playing, the older chatting things that's rather common yet none of my concern. So i just ate the delicious buffet and went to tampines mall(which was nearby) alone. It felt terrible. I walked on the street and gazed at other people laughing with their friends. I went to shops and to the arcade, only to look and to walk about silently. Nobody knew who I was, nobody could feel what I did. Is that loneliness?&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's been a long time since I felt it so badly, i'm sure there's more to come though.&lt;br /&gt;Things are starting to look better, still in a wreck though.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes things can never return back to where it used to after it has changed.&lt;br /&gt;Sad.&lt;br /&gt;I never longer feel happy doing things I used to like. Why?&lt;br /&gt;it's all but a mystery and a misery.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know... hope all will be good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109379157351306439?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109379157351306439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109379157351306439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109379157351306439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109379157351306439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/been-so-long-since-i-last-blogged-so.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109222903565023153</id><published>2004-08-11T20:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T20:57:15.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>  What's wrong with this world? The unfathomable nature of humans reveals itself over and over again. Frustration it gives, happiness it takes away. I found myself with scorn on my lips. Refusal to co-operate, leads to real disgust. In they wrong those may be, pride is what still hangs on their smiles. Contempt is what I feel, as my emotions conflict inside me.&lt;br /&gt;  What lies in their head? What diffuculty is there to be, to understand how to be just what they should be. It seems that they are unable of anything. capable of only creating what is not to be tolerated, and to give trouble as much as they are of annoyance.&lt;br /&gt;  I dream of what was once there, with the desire to return to it. Why? glory and pride are not what gave me what I needed, nothing was given but taken there was a bundle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Pull through I hope.&lt;br /&gt;hope time is like the swift wind.&lt;br /&gt;Without the bad but the good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109222903565023153?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109222903565023153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109222903565023153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109222903565023153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109222903565023153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/whats-wrong-with-this-world.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109206729673636777</id><published>2004-08-09T23:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T00:01:36.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Been out for 3 days straight already.. hahax. It feels really special when suddenly you are no longer bugged by any thoughts of homework or anything, just enjoying yourself and screaming like mad or smth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday and today I went firework-hunting with sarah, huiling, ben liew and angeline. Hahax.I shall start with yesterday first. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to esplanade but I wanted to see the library so we went in and I found lots of great scores! but guess what. you need extra membership. Felt exasperated. Hahax. After that we got outside to mingle with the huge crowd. once you get in, you can't get out. hahax. And we stood there, trying to grasp some fresh air. Of course we laughed like mad, and cracked really stupid jokes, although we laughed like mad at them. After waiting for what seemed like ages, the air was suddenly lit with a vast display of fireworks, and of course, I took pics of them! hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was funnier. We went to kallang and walked all the way in, outside the stadium. We saw lots of participants crowding in and out. hahax. Then the fireworks startED! boom boom. It was so nice, I felt so 'high' out there, and the impact of the fireworks made me feel like screaming my head off. hahax. There was a secondround of fireworks but i was too busy gaping at the fabulous fireworks and end up my camera took rubbish. Hahax. Guess what happened, if you guys noticed, there was this big yellow flowers. They brought the flowers to where we were and started deflating it. They breathed in the helium and their voice was squeaking! It was so funny! they squaked' Happy national day' Lolx, I was guffawing away with the rest. And i tried to breathe in! but the officer stopped me, I did feel something in my voice. just slightly squeaky then it's gone. hahax. It's super farni! NS men squeaking across.  Really funny.. hahax. Too bad can't post their sounds online eh. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All good times have to come to an end, so I guess tomorrow I have to start working on my 'mountain' of homework. hahax. Oh well. May this sentence mark the end of my little fantasy of light and colour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109206729673636777?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109206729673636777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109206729673636777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109206729673636777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109206729673636777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/been-out-for-3-days-straight-already.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109206594476075428</id><published>2004-08-09T23:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T23:39:04.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/135/1046/640/DSCN0035.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/135/1046/400/DSCN0035.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took it TODAY at the national stadium. Coudn't take much because got this stupid lamp post and a thick black wire blocking out some of the pics. how sad. But still as enjoyable as ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109206594476075428?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109206594476075428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109206594476075428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109206594476075428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109206594476075428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/took-it-today-at-national-stadium.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109206590685996865</id><published>2004-08-09T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T23:38:26.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/135/1046/640/DSCN0542.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/135/1046/400/DSCN0542.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Took it yesterday at the esplanade, very nice rite? I just love fireworks. Fireworks burn very quickly and passionately, but dies as fast as it comes. How sad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109206590685996865?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109206590685996865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109206590685996865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109206590685996865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109206590685996865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/took-it-yesterday-at-esplanade-very.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109179863494254149</id><published>2004-08-06T20:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-06T21:23:54.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>  I'm still mad over oldies. Just like them so much, they kind of soothes the heart.&lt;br /&gt;Today was national day celebration. Well done to zuli and her committee! hahax, the school was kinda mad today first time ever and I'm proud of it. It seems that the Sls have gotten abit of the zest from the hongkongers. We formed trains and sang and ran around the whole parade square. I'm sure atikah they all would be so glad that it's so successful.&lt;br /&gt;  Suddenly it all feels weird, they glance they throw at you, the stone cold feeling. It's weird, and shocking. Nevermind. It's nothing I guess.&lt;br /&gt;  The teacher student games was a little not that fun. Plainly because the teachers were kind of bullying the students instead.Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;  Got nothing much to say, and I don't want to anyway. At least I'm looking foward to  tomorrow's outing. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109179863494254149?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109179863494254149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109179863494254149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109179863494254149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109179863494254149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/im-still-mad-over-oldies.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109179689379782841</id><published>2004-08-06T20:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-06T20:54:53.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;When a man loves a woman&lt;br /&gt;Can't keep his mind on nothin' else&lt;br /&gt;He'd trade the world&lt;br /&gt;For a good thing he's found&lt;br /&gt;If she is bad, he can't see it&lt;br /&gt;She can do no wrong&lt;br /&gt;Turn his back on his best friend&lt;br /&gt;If he puts her down&lt;br /&gt;When a man loves a woman&lt;br /&gt;Spend his very last dime&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hold on to what he needs&lt;br /&gt;He'd give up all his comforts&lt;br /&gt;And sleep out in the rain&lt;br /&gt;If she said that's the way&lt;br /&gt;It ought to be&lt;br /&gt;When a man loves a woman&lt;br /&gt;I give you everything I got (yeah)&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hold on&lt;br /&gt;To your precious love&lt;br /&gt;Baby please don't treat me bad&lt;br /&gt;When a man loves a woman&lt;br /&gt;Deep down in his soul&lt;br /&gt;She can bring him such misery&lt;br /&gt;If she is playing him for a fool&lt;br /&gt;He's the last one to know&lt;br /&gt;Loving eyes can never see&lt;br /&gt;Yes when a man loves a woman&lt;br /&gt;I know exactly how he feels&lt;br /&gt;'Cause baby, baby, baby&lt;br /&gt;I am a man&lt;br /&gt;When a man loves a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109179689379782841?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109179689379782841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109179689379782841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109179689379782841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109179689379782841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/when-man-loves-woman-when-man-loves.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109145832800910421</id><published>2004-08-02T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-02T22:52:08.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Been crazy over oldies lately. They're really very nice. They speak of life, with every sentence so true. How a man can love a woman so much. Hahax, guess i'm just being mad. Michael bolton has 2 nice songs, will post them soon. they're when a man loves a woman, and how am i supposed to live without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahax. I'm feeling much lighter now, after what has tied me down so long have been loosened. No more frustrations, no more nothing. Everything has picked up, besides my homework. I find it VERY hard to do them. thanks to external distraction and my inborn laziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's tough man, realising how distant you are after immersing urself in the 'work' you have called. So it's best not to always be 'important' and called to do stuff. Lolx. I just hope everything will turn out fine. Hope the NE board's not vandalised yet. Hahax. Don't wish my work of art to be destroyed.maybe it's not a work of art. haxa, the credit goes to my artistic team, I can only do some simple jobs like cutting and planning for them.. hahax. I'm starting to feel something lately. Something never like before. Wonder what it is? Guess those people around should know what is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe i changed my stand so quickly, I'm sure sarah feels the same way too. But life is contradictory. So who cares eh. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.angelfire.com/anime5/xenophobic/horizon.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the tree, alone but strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109145832800910421?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109145832800910421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109145832800910421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109145832800910421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109145832800910421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/been-crazy-over-oldies-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109145779392010894</id><published>2004-08-02T22:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-03T19:16:46.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Have I told you lately (Rod Stewart)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you lately that I love you&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you there's no one else above you&lt;br /&gt;Fill my heart with gladness&lt;br /&gt;take away all my sadness&lt;br /&gt;ease my troubles that's what you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the morning sun in all it's glory&lt;br /&gt;greets the day with hope and comfort too&lt;br /&gt;You fill my life with laughter&lt;br /&gt;and somehow you make it better&lt;br /&gt;ease my troubles that's what you do&lt;br /&gt;There's a love that's divine&lt;br /&gt;and it's yours and it's mine like the sun&lt;br /&gt;And at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;we should give thanks and pray&lt;br /&gt;to the one, to the one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you lately that I love you&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you there's no one else above you&lt;br /&gt;Fill my heart with gladness&lt;br /&gt;take away all my sadness&lt;br /&gt;ease my troubles that's what you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a love that's divine&lt;br /&gt;and it's yours and it's mine like the sun&lt;br /&gt;And at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;we should give thanks and pray&lt;br /&gt;to the one, to the one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And have I told you lately that I love you&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you there's no one else above you&lt;br /&gt;You fill my heart with gladness&lt;br /&gt;take away my sadness&lt;br /&gt;ease my troubles that's what you do&lt;br /&gt;Take away all my sadness&lt;br /&gt;fill my life with gladnesse&lt;br /&gt;ease my troubles that's what you do&lt;br /&gt;Take away all my sadness&lt;br /&gt;fill my life with gladness&lt;br /&gt;ease my troubles that's what you do &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109145779392010894?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109145779392010894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109145779392010894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109145779392010894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109145779392010894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/08/have-i-told-you-lately-rod-stewart.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-109076820229836668</id><published>2004-07-25T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-07-25T23:10:02.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life's bad, real bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's happening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a real wonder how good friends around you isn't that great after all through work. They can take things easy, do things easy. You do things for them, yet you never made it clear, they blame you. Everything is just your fault. I give up man. I am NEVER going to help them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~simply disgusted~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-109076820229836668?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109076820229836668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=109076820229836668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109076820229836668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/109076820229836668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/07/lifes-bad-real-bad.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-108860294235550076</id><published>2004-06-30T21:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-06-30T21:42:22.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's been a great day. I felt kinda lighter now. Although somehow I feel that somethings cropping up, there's no form or communication. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, I wish to thank everyone that has been telling me to relax and not to be stressed. I appreciate it,Hahax. I'm not stressed now already. Everything's start to get going after all this pushing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be good. I hope. even my HoMEWORK has started going. that's BESt news. Hahax. Ahh.. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I'm going to change. I have people giving me this look that I'm gonna break down any moment. Am I going to turn into some high-pressure cooker or something? I don't think so. Just hope people won't think I will just because I'm the choir president and START avoiding me or 'talking' to me. That's terrible man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to stay happy this week man. Cause My birthday's coming ! My weekend is packed with LOADS of cool activities and outings. wooHoO! I'm NOT going to get angry during this saturday's sectional.Probably going to talk calmly and then don't get angry. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish I'll get through this challenge with ease and success. In case anyone out there reading this was thinking I'm darn stressed or smth. I'm glad to tell you I'm not now, and I'm just not used to the stress. guess I'll be used to it and can handle with it soon. But I'm really puzzled how stubborn a person can be, with their persistent bad attitude. Lolx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-108860294235550076?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/108860294235550076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=108860294235550076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108860294235550076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108860294235550076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/06/its-been-great-day.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-108842439509568045</id><published>2004-06-28T19:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T20:06:35.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was a bad day. So very bad.&lt;br /&gt;I came to school on a rather light tone. Besides that there was a mountain of homework not done at all. It was kind of depressing enough.&lt;br /&gt;School ended quick, like a poof!&lt;br /&gt;And so I packed my bag and choir came...&lt;br /&gt;It started out rather ookay. I warned the people that lousy excuses cannot be accepted.&lt;br /&gt;Then I went for a meeting. It was good I think.&lt;br /&gt;But guess what. I came out to go to the piano area for bass sectionals. I went back later, then I found tenors slacking outside the choir room. I wasn't in a very good mood at that time already. and Boom, I exploded. hahax. I scolded the tenors on how slack and playful they were, with no thought of improving or being serious about sectionals at all. Argh. It took half out of me. I feel so tired. I'm bloody tired. I'm wondering why I was ever so stupid to take up the post of something so big. What do I get? I get people totally not appreciating what we have done for them. They joke and play around. Then all the things they can do is to say who who who think very big den always say us. I can't get it, why are they so dense? I thought that a correct mindset and attitude is not THAT hard. Not that hard at all! but all they are good at is to give some stupid attitude. Then never bother to sing, only bother to quarrel with me that they got sing blah blah blah. I'm so sick of it man. I was like just finished scolding the tenors and I went into the choir room and all I saw was girls not that great either. Some were even worse, they can stand on one leg, make their hair, look into the mirror. seniors btw. Gosh man. And all I wanted to do is to correct all that. Is it wrong? is it? NO! how can it be wrong? You mean I'm wrong for trying to help the choir improve? what is this? Why am i doing something nobody appreciates, and all people return is some lousy results. People invest, and they get rewards and returns. Look at this? wat are they giving me? What the hell man. this is sad. real sad.&lt;br /&gt;I pray for the resilence to carry on with a community with no conscience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-108842439509568045?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/108842439509568045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=108842439509568045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108842439509568045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108842439509568045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/06/today-was-bad-day.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-108800631557536809</id><published>2004-06-23T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T23:58:35.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finally back from a slumber that seemed, endless...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holidays have been great, but it all seemed like a dream, whizzing past like the swift sea breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been to camps and chalets, I've learnt things i never thought i would, well, at last this holidays have been great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about the SL camp yeah?&lt;br /&gt;It was something totally different, I never had a chance to lead a group, but i'm glad i'm given the chance to. My group was a very close one, even thought there was some disputes at first, they were all ironed out in a jiffy. hahax. It was very memorable, of how my group even listened to some stupid lame stupid crapper like me. It gave me a sense of satisfaction you know? To lead a group that moved as one and won as one. Lolx, Adriano RawkS~! No denying about that. hahax. It was something really worth remembering. Even though I probably played a part that was not that significant. hahax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choir's been great, I'm still trying to get used to deciding everything and things like that. I've been trying to think of things to help the choir though, but so very sadly, the world isn't perfect, and so comes along some people who tries to ruin it all. I'm dissapointed actually. I was really happy with the sec 1 and 2s at first, cos even though they may not sing as well as the sec 3 gals *hint hint*, their attitude and mindset was ten times better. During the third week, the first practice the girls came back, but they sat around and said they wanted to listen to the lower sec cause they sucked. Well, i wouldn't blame them for no initiative cause i think I might just do that same. But guess wad? During the second session, they did try to help but when it came to the running part. Disaster struck. During the singing part, the sec 1s and 2s were already putting more effort than them. But coming to the running part. The sec 3 girls were complaining loudly, yakking here and there. Worse still, there was this selfish bit** who scolded me. Reason why? because she doesn't want to run. I'm totally disgusted man. TOTALLY. I made the choir run because we need to get in shape so that we are in better shape to clinch the gold all of us want so much. BUT YOU!? you care about ur stupid bitch face and don't wanna run cos of what? URSELF, that's so bloody selfish man. So what if running's tiring, I RUN TOO. So what the hell are you trying to tell me? That i'm wrong to do something that would benefit the choir, or that you're just a boody bit** that is too boody selfish to even run for the choir. Oh my gosh man, and guess what, even my OWN committee has people like that. I'm terribly disgusted and disapointed. I guess when they see this they're probably so pissed off and they're gonna say bad things about me again, but who cares. I was pissed man, real pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay enuff of that. At least I had the chalet! lolx, thanks to edz~!&lt;br /&gt;It was great i guess, I had a big tan. Although edz was quite pissed of cos the media club people didn't have any initiative to do stuff. but end up me, edwin and ben huang went to barbecue ourselves and ate like mad. It was great man, dipping the stuff into sauces and eating and eating. Felt great. lolx. Even though there was NO sun for the sun rise, so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahax,in a blink of an eye, the holidays are over. haish..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't feeling that lonely after the holidays, I felt that at least I had friends who cared. I hope so though. I'm very afraid that all I trust is just a facade, that would fade and dissapear when I try to fall back on it. Haish!I've kinda given up on looking for someone to pick me up when i'm down, someone for me to look out for everything I do. Everything seems vague, I can't understand why people are SO so so fake, they switch around like a chameleon. I can't understand them, are they just putting up a show? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least I saw this really really pretty girl in white when I was studying in hougang mall yesterday. She looked like an angel would pretty eyes, red lips and long hair. Ahh.. she was really pretty. But i guess it's all just a dream. After all, what's not a dream? I'm trying to forget about her but well, hope i can. It's torturing to see how life makes fun of you, leaves you alone at the corner to feel lonely and stuff. Is finding someone to walk this long and ardous journey so difficult? I guess it really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm dreading the return of school&lt;br /&gt;for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;The past i looked forward to seeing all my friends, all my friends that i trusted and thought would trust me too. &lt;br /&gt;I'm wrong, I'm just a clown that people play around with.&lt;br /&gt;But i take solace in the fact that I have my close friends, and my music that may not seem great, but at least it gives me meaning in life, something to work for and enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;Help me =(&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling lost again&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop contradicting myself.&lt;br /&gt;I will pull through, alone or not. &lt;br /&gt;I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-108800631557536809?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/108800631557536809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=108800631557536809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108800631557536809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108800631557536809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/06/finally-back-from-slumber-that-seemed.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-108669799360249466</id><published>2004-06-08T19:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-06-08T20:33:13.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never wanted to be left alone, standing all alone and looking at the far plains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   .lost so,desufnoc I'm? conceited just are that world this in people many so there are why, be never would thought I what over swarm loneliness does Why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Just realised the terrible truth, how people are not what they are behind their deceitful facade. It seems that what what was desired would never be mine, for I'm just not able to. I knew it was to happen, ever since I entered sec 3. I feared it would come true, but i put my fear aside, thinking that it would kill itself by then. But today it was confirmed. Confirmed indeed. I'm dissapointed. I used to be undaunted by the challenges, but it seems that it would be of a different perspective from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  This is sad, it just casts an indescribable pain on me. I'm holding on faith right now. Ahh, so I guess I can't keep up with the carefree+happy feeling for a long time anymore.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I can make it. I will survive, I know I will. Time would show for itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-108669799360249466?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/108669799360249466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=108669799360249466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108669799360249466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108669799360249466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-never-wanted-to-be-left-alone.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-108627267451295851</id><published>2004-06-03T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-06-03T22:24:34.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'> It's going to be one week soon, that's so fast. Guess time REALLY flies. I can't imagine how am I supposed to finish all my homework, only did like chinese? pathetic'o'me. &lt;br /&gt;  I've been feeling rather tired lately, must be the exercises. Hahax,let's start from yesterday.. Hahax.&lt;br /&gt;  Went out with wenqin and edwin+his soccer friends to east coast. wanted to go and rollerblade, but ended up raining. Hahax. So %#$% . But we still went rollerblading. Wanted to teach wenqin how to rollerblade but ended up the skates had NO soles, so wenqin was like dying but can't skate at all. Hahax. So I skated to macdonald and poor wenqin had to walk and run. We walked super slowly back and took dunno how long. hahax. Edwin went off wif his friends already. Aiya, we just went back lor. What a wasted trip. Had to wipe off a great deal of mud after that. Hahax. It was kinda fun despite the stupid weather, and I think i'm gonna get real skinny after exercising like 4 times a week? hahax.&lt;br /&gt;  Today was pathetic, real boring to me. I woke up real late, ate lunch, and wasted the whole day playing games and watching harry potter:chamber of secrets. Hahax. This entry is so darn boring. hahax, Sorry to the peeps out there who are probably bored or disgusted or smth. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-108627267451295851?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/108627267451295851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=108627267451295851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108627267451295851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108627267451295851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/06/its-going-to-be-one-week-soon-thats-so.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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-6647852.post-108618328677484377</id><published>2004-06-02T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-06-02T21:34:46.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/135/1046/640/DSC03348.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/135/1046/400/DSC03348.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Took this picture outside school, great eh. hahax. Just felt that it was beautiful, like I was enlightened or something. But too bad the answers I need wouldn't come to me like the rays of light.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647852-108618328677484377?l=purestechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/108618328677484377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647852&amp;postID=108618328677484377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108618328677484377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647852/posts/default/108618328677484377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purestechoes.blogspot.com/2004/06/took-this-picture-outside-school-great.html' title=''/><author><name>d@nNy </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12451153976680621451</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>
