<?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-5117879963443258133</id><updated>2012-01-17T22:06:38.358+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nicole.</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;center&gt;You're electric, you're the current running through my veins&lt;/center&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5117879963443258133.post-4899380116132105130</id><published>2012-01-17T22:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T22:06:38.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What time is it?</title><content type='html'>Can't remember the last time I felt so stressed. Oh wait, its yesterday ._.&lt;br /&gt;Why can't she just understand I want to study, I want to do well so she can be proud of me, I want to do her proud so she can shove it in daddy's face? Why can't she just listen?!&lt;br /&gt;You really think its so easy? All you know is scold, and scold, AND SCOLD AND SCOLD AND SCOLD! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW HARD I'M TRYING WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING ALL THE CRAP. Before I forget the fact that you are pinning almost all your hopes on me, and flunk all my studies and throw my books away, can't you be nicer? CAN'T YOU JUST BE MORE UNDERSTANDING?! Don't make me regret putting in so much effort in my studies and stuff, so what if it's for my own good? Just show some appreciation and I'm good. You make me want to run out and get bang by a car, so my brain can stop thinking, so I can rest finally. You keep saying, "you think earning money is easy?" my answer is NO. I know earning money is not easy, but I don't bug you when you earn money right? So when I'm studying or when I want to study can you don't force me to go here and there and don't let me study?! SERIOUSLY URGH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-4899380116132105130?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/4899380116132105130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=4899380116132105130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/4899380116132105130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/4899380116132105130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2012/01/what-time-is-it.html' title='What time is it?'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-6118005369089171215</id><published>2011-11-14T23:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T23:10:54.078+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is falling apart.</title><content type='html'>We used to be so good, why our friendship became like this now? Why can't you/we stop being so persistent? WHY ARE WE EVEN COMPARING?! IS IT FUN?! IT TURNED OUT LIKE THIS NOW. ARE YOU HAPPY? BECAUSE HONESTLY, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;We used to hang out like at least once a week, go out have some laugh and enjoy the breeze;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;but now we hardly talk, don't even meet, and we don't even care anymore&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used to accommodate each other, because we're all friends;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;but now we insisted on doing whatever we like&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I the only one trying to rectify the whole fucking damn situation, when it's everybody's responsibility? Why can't we just be a little more humble and accommodate each other like we used to? Why can't we remain as friends even when there are "External forces" acting? Why can't we still remain friends? Friends.. Just friends are enough. That's what I ask. WHY MUST WE ALL BE SO FUCKING BIG ASS PROUD, TO ACCOMMODATE EACH OTHER? WHY MUST WE ALL HAVE THAT OVERSIZED EGO, THAT MAKES US FEEL UNHAPPY JUST BECAUSE THE OTHER PARTY HAVE BETTER FRIENDS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I will cry.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-6118005369089171215?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/6118005369089171215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=6118005369089171215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/6118005369089171215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/6118005369089171215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/11/life-is-falling-apart.html' title='Life is falling apart.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-1369681265460050895</id><published>2011-11-10T22:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T23:00:43.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, Fourteen.</title><content type='html'>It's been too long since I've saw your shiny eyes and sweet smile. So what if I don't know your name? I'm not a crazy stalker, just suddenly in love with you and your eyes :) The first time I saw you, was 1 year ago. You were amazing back then, and you are even better now. I lost the passion for the ball, will you find it back for me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-1369681265460050895?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/1369681265460050895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=1369681265460050895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/1369681265460050895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/1369681265460050895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/11/hey-fourteen.html' title='Hey, Fourteen.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-2126356445495013212</id><published>2011-10-28T23:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T23:34:43.455+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A year passed.</title><content type='html'>I'm back to the same place again, just that this time, you're not here. I wonder if you've noticed my absence for the past 2 weeks, hoping to see you again. Don't let me down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-2126356445495013212?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/2126356445495013212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=2126356445495013212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/2126356445495013212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/2126356445495013212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/10/year-passed.html' title='A year passed.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-9135008384425440706</id><published>2011-10-06T18:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T19:00:55.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry for the inability to be anything you want me to be. I can't be a doctor, a lawyer or bring pride to the family. I can't be a scholar, a graduate or something you can be proud of. I'm just an ordinary girl. I lose things, everything. Money phone wallet cards. Everything that you can name. And I know you wished that I could lose my life. I'm sorry, just give me some time. I just need more time to experience life, and then when I die, rejoice. You can rejoice when I shut both of my eyes and never open them again. You can rejoice when I can't breathe any longer. You can rejoice when I can't talk again. You can rejoice when I'm in the coffin with a white rose in my hands. You didn't know how much I wish I could be something you wanted me to be. You've given up on me, and yes, you just didn't know. I already gave up on myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-9135008384425440706?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/9135008384425440706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=9135008384425440706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/9135008384425440706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/9135008384425440706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m sorry'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-4162994377093624742</id><published>2011-08-27T22:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T22:31:18.474+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazingly.</title><content type='html'>I saw him again today. So amazingly charming, his smile brightens my "day" (night, to be exact). He made my heart skipped for awhile, then made me happy, then made me sad. My heart skipped 'cos of my excitement from seeing him again, happy 'cos I really missed him, then sad 'cos I wonder if it's ever possible between us. He's just like a visual candy, see no touch :\ But hey, I like him so much. I don't idolize him, 'cos I've been liking him since 9 months ago when I first set my eyes on him. Though I don't know much about him, my teenage dream tells me that at least we had something in common, basketball :) I love how we love the same thing, so please, make it possible for us 'cos it's my teenage dream. Everybody has to have a little hope, right? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Baby so mesmerizing, so alluring, so addicting. ♥ &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-4162994377093624742?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/4162994377093624742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=4162994377093624742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/4162994377093624742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/4162994377093624742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/08/amazingly.html' title='Amazingly.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-1814591250379621835</id><published>2011-08-11T18:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T18:57:46.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a bad day.</title><content type='html'>I hate to cry, I hate to fake a smile, I hate to pretend like nothing happened when I want to scream so much. I just need someone now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[edit//]&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I can't cry anymore. &lt;s&gt;No one is here for me. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow. Fate plays with me, it's alright. I'm not going to fight against it, 'cos I can't win. I'm a little puppet.&lt;/s&gt;I'm a happy mushroom princess, Violette. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-1814591250379621835?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/1814591250379621835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=1814591250379621835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/1814591250379621835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/1814591250379621835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-bad-day.html' title='It&apos;s a bad day.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-8222973274879419739</id><published>2011-08-06T23:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T23:31:51.057+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been long.</title><content type='html'>Yeah, it's been long since I've last blogged. &lt;s&gt;Maybe I just can't be bothered to type things I plan to tell someone into my computer. Loser I am. I thought so much, but I realize it's time to be serious now. I have to stop dreaming for more things, and live with what I have. Wanting more made me so much greedier, I don't want it; I don't like it. I see people, I look at them, then at myself. I feel lonely. As ironic as it seems, sometimes, what I ask for, is to be alone. I'm like part of an experiment, and the control is far more better than me. Sadness is catching up with me, and all I wanna say is. &lt;/s&gt;I need a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And, I give up.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-8222973274879419739?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/8222973274879419739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=8222973274879419739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/8222973274879419739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/8222973274879419739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-been-long.html' title='It&apos;s been long.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-5931601168531136742</id><published>2011-07-30T23:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T23:29:08.685+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusion.</title><content type='html'>Feeling happy now. Feeling sorry now. Feeling anxious now. Feeling relieved now. Feeling happy now. Feeling lonely now. Feeling sad now. Feeling confused now. What am I feeling now?&lt;br /&gt;This whole day I've been feeling different emotions, and I'm just so confused. Just WHAT am I feeling now? I'm feeling sad. We'll only be friends, so why should I care. Questions pop up in my head; "Is it me?", "Who is it?", "How are you feeling now?". I hate PMS-ing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm sad not 'cos it ended, I'm sad 'cos it started.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-5931601168531136742?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/5931601168531136742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=5931601168531136742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/5931601168531136742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/5931601168531136742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/07/confusion.html' title='Confusion.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-6877554486146496221</id><published>2011-07-24T22:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-24T22:22:26.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>People lie with smiling faces.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ZBja9xu4Yg/TiwowYpYx0I/AAAAAAAAAOs/tjEoFkmjWn0/s1600/DSCF3457.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ZBja9xu4Yg/TiwowYpYx0I/AAAAAAAAAOs/tjEoFkmjWn0/s200/DSCF3457.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632922045648521026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;`What you're looking at?! '&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;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MQ4HQzuHtH8/TiwowM5HzcI/AAAAAAAAAOk/CvEEyaSSGOU/s1600/DSCF3445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MQ4HQzuHtH8/TiwowM5HzcI/AAAAAAAAAOk/CvEEyaSSGOU/s200/DSCF3445.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632922042493291970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;`My new ducky pouch :D '&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;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AL8-VaMuVfw/Tiwow5JskXI/AAAAAAAAAO0/5axH83ExhtE/s1600/DSCF3531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AL8-VaMuVfw/Tiwow5JskXI/AAAAAAAAAO0/5axH83ExhtE/s200/DSCF3531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632922054373970290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;` Yummy ice cream, Italiano '&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;Tons of slacking, and my sisters went back to Melbourne. Its time for me to be alone when listening to my mum's nagging. Suddenly feel pessimistic towards life. Just wanna know, how many of us wondered; who really are our true friends? Do they fuck you up behind your backs? People around you smile when you face them, but out of your sight, they may just roll their eyes. Doesn't this disgust you? So glad that I don't know any that does that to me, even if those people exists in my life. I hope I never wish to know. Just let me be lied to, and never let me find out about it. I may just lost trust in life. So hurtful. Just so hurtful. Tonight, my thoughts are wandering again. Tonight, my heart is lonely again. Tonight, my mind is empty again.&lt;br /&gt;P/s. MOF IS JUST YUMMY :D Mmmmm, stop me from eating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;When can we all stop lying?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-6877554486146496221?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/6877554486146496221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=6877554486146496221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/6877554486146496221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/6877554486146496221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/07/people-lie-with-smiling-faces.html' title='People lie with smiling faces.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ZBja9xu4Yg/TiwowYpYx0I/AAAAAAAAAOs/tjEoFkmjWn0/s72-c/DSCF3457.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5117879963443258133.post-3769450313039719924</id><published>2011-07-20T01:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T01:24:03.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter -&gt; Happy Potter.</title><content type='html'>Just finished Harry Potter part 2! :D&lt;br /&gt;Not bad I mean, though I didn't watch part 1, it's quite amazing right? Fun time with sisters today. Happy mood due to the completion of my CL O's Listening compre. Success!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Still, I'm empty inside&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-3769450313039719924?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/3769450313039719924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=3769450313039719924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/3769450313039719924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/3769450313039719924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/07/harry-potter-happy-potter.html' title='Harry Potter -&gt; Happy Potter.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-8844372046732401125</id><published>2011-07-18T18:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T01:25:20.244+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatsupp.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:font;"&gt;Yay finally the second post since revive-ation :D&lt;br /&gt;This blog is beginning to become something like "vent-your-anger.blogspot.com" but who cares, nobody sees it anyway. Currently in the point of time when you get pissed @ almost everything. Its either me being fuck-ed up, or everyone's being so problematic. The "me being fuck-ed up" is most probably the reason, but not ALL I guess. One of the reasons causing my fuck-ed-up-ness is probably the younger generation.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I know you've(for fun, no one reads this anyway D:) heard things like "Oh~ the younger generation is gonna get FATTER and SHORTER 'cos sadly, IT'S JUST IN THE GENES!" but NO. I'm going to talk about the younger generation now in MY point of view. Who am I to judge right? You can don't read it if you like, nobody's stopping you. Now, I feel that the media should start broadcasting things like "Oh~ the younger generation is gonna get SELFISH-ER and SELF-CENTER-ER 'cos sadly, IT'S JUST EVOLVING!" Yes that's right. Again, who am I to judge? I'm one of the young generations too, but c'mon. How many times must I see youngsters or teenagers sitting on seats when there's just a person who needs it more standing right in front of him/her. The sight is just, plainly, disgusting. I even find it disgusting for me to post it here since it's not in some people's common sense. Now, giving up seats is a "Oh wow you're so kind" practice. In the past? It's suppose to be a BASIC practice. That day I just saw a youngster sitting on the "Reserved seat" (Wtheck? Reserved seat somemore ._.), pretending to neglect the lady pushing a tram RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS EYES. What, he needs someone to gorge his eyeballs or something? Look people look, what is THIS?! Of course, I admit I have a bad impression of our younger generation because they are so obviously influenced negatively by the availabilities to connect to the social world outside so easily. Kids now are always trying to be 10 or 20 years older than who they really are. Soon we will all lose our childhood and get our adulthood at like, 5? However, if you are one of the people who are conscious about the people around you and are not like those I've mentioned, good for you. you're probably the hopes of Singapore in the next 20 years. Yay you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;P/s. This post is not directed to anybody.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-8844372046732401125?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/8844372046732401125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=8844372046732401125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/8844372046732401125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/8844372046732401125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/07/whatsupp.html' title='Whatsupp.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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-5117879963443258133.post-5931369698443403274</id><published>2011-06-08T18:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T18:28:58.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck the world.</title><content type='html'>You are always so fucking unreasonable, always forcing people to do things they can't do, putting them in a fucking difficult spot. You always claim some fucking sense and then when someday whatever you demand goes against the nonsense you talked about, you come up with some other crap. If I keep quiet, its not that I am speechless, its because I don't want to tear the fucking face down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5117879963443258133-5931369698443403274?l=sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/feeds/5931369698443403274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5117879963443258133&amp;postID=5931369698443403274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/5931369698443403274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5117879963443258133/posts/default/5931369698443403274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sixtyeight-loves.blogspot.com/2011/06/fuck-world.html' title='Fuck the world.'/><author><name>Nicole. Huixin.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17644348234980765278</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>
