<?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-9110963</id><updated>2011-04-22T03:17:43.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When I dream, I dream of u</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9110963.post-111285944191645868</id><published>2005-04-07T15:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T15:37:21.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hello everybody!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; u have tan shi wei sitting beside me... at mp library..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my computer SPOILT again.. grr..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha.. anywy i got nth much to say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so buhbye!! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-111285944191645868?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/111285944191645868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=111285944191645868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111285944191645868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111285944191645868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/04/hello-everybody-u-have-tan-shi-wei.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-111113502028037924</id><published>2005-03-18T16:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T16:37:00.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Read this.. very true... esp the last part =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;In front of the person u like, u get happy&lt;br /&gt;But in front of the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;, ur heart beats faster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;In front of the person u like, a winter is a beautiful winter&lt;br /&gt;But in front of the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;, a winter seems like spring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When u look into the eyes of the person u like, u smile&lt;br /&gt;When u look into the eyes of the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;, u blush.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of the person u like, u can say everything on ur mind&lt;br /&gt;But in front of the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;, u can't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;In front of the person u like, u can be your own self&lt;br /&gt;But in front of the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;, u tend to get shy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt; comes into ur mind every 2 minutes,&lt;br /&gt;You can't look straight into the eyes of the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But u can always smile into the eyes of the person u like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When the person u like crys, u comfort them&lt;br /&gt;But when the person u &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt; crys, u end up crying with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt; starts from the EYES&lt;br /&gt;but the feeling of like starts from the ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So if u want to stop liking a person u used to like,&lt;br /&gt;all u need to do is to cover ur ears,&lt;br /&gt;But if u want to stop loving sum1 used to &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;close ur eyes.&lt;br /&gt;And LOVE turns into a drop of tear and remains in ur heart forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-111113502028037924?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/111113502028037924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=111113502028037924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111113502028037924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111113502028037924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/03/read-this.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-111071837752886761</id><published>2005-03-13T20:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T20:52:57.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>dun let the tears be e ending of love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if u ever knew it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;u were e 1st boy i ever liked...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my heart never moved for other boys b4..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those that i liked were just as friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;simply friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but u mean more than that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i first looked in ur eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i felt e feelin i never felt b4..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have really never felt that feelin b4..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n u gave me the experience..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but u din give me e happiness..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;till now it has been..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 yr 6 mths?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah.. approximately there..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess u'll nvr know it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i'll nver have e chance to tell u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this is how my 1st time lovin a person feels.. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ur name is carved in my heart..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it will never be erased..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e scar will always remain..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-111071837752886761?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/111071837752886761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=111071837752886761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111071837752886761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111071837752886761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/03/dun-let-tears-be-e-ending-of-love.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-111036975597732570</id><published>2005-03-09T19:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T20:04:58.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;i dun expect a happy endin for me to be wif u.. at least if i cant be happy.. i really hope u can.. good luck to u.. i dun wan to be e rain that spoils the sunset.. sigh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wait.. let me think wad happened yesterday... was tuesday..hmm..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh my gosh.. i dun remember anyhting..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh.. ya.. i went hm straight aft sch.. even my mama was so suprised how i cld reach hm so fast..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den i wanted to study den go swimmin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in e end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was so tired..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i slept away my studyin time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slept&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slept&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n slept..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until i passed my swimmin time also@!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grr..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den i jus went out for dinner..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den today had chi n emaths test..&lt;br /&gt;now practically EVERYDAY we have test...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arghh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den just now i can stand it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today saw U so many times..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but ure always so near, yet so far..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can never reach u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ur jus like e stars in e sky..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always look very near..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but u can never reach it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really wan u to find ur happiness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope u can be wif her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dun wan u to be sad..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went  watch e hitch last thurs..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was vfunny lor..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esp that manda who laughed so loudly..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until e her voice frequency went up n down..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i CANT stand it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll  miss u forever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/9110963-111036975597732570?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/111036975597732570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=111036975597732570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111036975597732570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/111036975597732570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-dun-expect-happy-endin-for-me-to-be_09.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110959327249934610</id><published>2005-02-28T20:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T20:21:12.500+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How i wished..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will never happen de lah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just wrote a love story for myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the poor me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always wallop in self pity...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bcuz i jus find myself very lonely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chem test tmr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i already cant take it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyday got tests de lor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stressed..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110959327249934610?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110959327249934610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110959327249934610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110959327249934610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110959327249934610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/how-i-wished.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110934194578363183</id><published>2005-02-25T22:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T22:32:25.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>heng ar!! i passed my marksmen.. or else i really die le.. PHEW!!! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today went to police academy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den hor we about 8.20PM den reached sch neh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wa piang~~~~ jus now when i shootin that time hors..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my hand tremble tremble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den i cant close 1 eyes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n both my eyes open n close ar!! gRrr~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den hor 4 of my bullets flew away!! dun even noe where they went~~!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 was out of e box.. 12 in e box..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i just passed..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my squad 100% passes!!! yay~~!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i still wanna talk bout e shootin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuz is once in a lifetime..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den hor e shootin sound really super loud lor..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nvr put mufflers can go deaf ar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have chem test on nxt tues..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope i will do MUCH better den e 1st 1..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which i just passed only.. *sobbs*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110934194578363183?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110934194578363183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110934194578363183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110934194578363183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110934194578363183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/heng-ar-i-passed-my-marksmen.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110924788585971806</id><published>2005-02-24T19:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T20:24:45.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ah hah! went to geylang police thr for dry sh0oot.. e real pistol was so heavy n hard to press!! hahas.. n hor..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eeeewwwwwwwww!!! e guys were so pervertic@!!! esp tht silong still dl those  _ _ _ _ !! den all e guys enjoy n laugh still not enuff.. still show us!! GrrRR...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway&lt;br /&gt;tmr is e real marksman.. i wonder how i'll fare..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope i can get good results for bio test jus now!! (^o^)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110924788585971806?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110924788585971806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110924788585971806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110924788585971806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110924788585971806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/ah-hah-went-to-geylang-police-thr-for.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110915623592201503</id><published>2005-02-23T18:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T18:57:15.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>quite long nvr post le hor?? hmm... many things happened lately.. jus finished my dinner.. today is e last day of cny.. so i had a feast * burps* so full!! haha.. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i'm not wrong i have bio test tmr.. hope i can get better dan e 1st 1.. although not very possible..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder wad u r doin now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i suddenly remembered.. i owe ms chan ex 3b,c,d,e,f.. dead meat le!! =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh..&lt;br /&gt;n i have dry shoot tmr..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n marksman on fri..&lt;br /&gt;i wonder how i'll fare..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;probably fail ba.. my aimin is horrible..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like how i shot e archery.. n it din even touch e board.. hahas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*embarassed*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea wad i wan to do now.. maybe wait for my parrents to go out? den i watch the rose??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahas..&lt;br /&gt;yes.. thts wad i wanna do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bcuz i was supposed to go wif them.../// got fireworks de..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den i got tEST!!! n 2 chi newspaper cuttTTINGGGG~~~ GRRRR#@#!##&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110915623592201503?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110915623592201503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110915623592201503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110915623592201503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110915623592201503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/quite-long-nvr-post-le-hor-hmm.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110864716971418625</id><published>2005-02-17T21:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T21:32:49.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Once upon a time the Colors of the world started to quarrel that they were&lt;br /&gt;: all claimed the best, the most important, the most useful, the favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GREEN said: "Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was chosen for grass, trees, leaves - without me, all animals would die. Look over the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;BLUE interrupted: "You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea. The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;YELLOW chuckled: "You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no fun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;ORANGE started next to blow her trumpet: "I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and pawpaws. I don't hang around all the time,but when I fill sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking that no one gives another thought to any of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;RED could stand it no longer. He shouted out: "I am the ruler of all of you- I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;PURPLE rose up to his full height. He was very tall andspoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, cheifs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me - they listen and obey."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Finally, INDIGO spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening - thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak: "You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me." Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined hands. The rain continued: "From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a rainbow appears in the sky, let us remember to appreciate one another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110864716971418625?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110864716971418625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110864716971418625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110864716971418625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110864716971418625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/once-upon-time-colors-of-world-started.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110864687831712123</id><published>2005-02-17T21:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T21:27:58.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>very meaningful.. take a look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had&lt;br /&gt;something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would&lt;br /&gt;reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood. I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life." I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business. He left the back door open one morning and was held up at gun point by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma centre. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.&lt;br /&gt;I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;When I asked him how he was, he said, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live. "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man." I knew I needed to take action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them, "I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;Attitude, after all, is everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110864687831712123?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110864687831712123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110864687831712123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110864687831712123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110864687831712123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/very-meaningful.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110864632733237286</id><published>2005-02-17T21:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T21:18:47.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;Once upon a time there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing.&lt;br /&gt;He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he was walking along the shore. As he looked down the beach, he saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself to think of someone who would dance to the day. So he began to walk faster to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently throwing it into the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;As he got closer he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish in the ocean."&lt;br /&gt;"I guess I should have asked, why are you throwing starfish in the ocean?"&lt;br /&gt;"The sun is up, and the tide is going out. And if I don't throw them in they'll die."&lt;br /&gt;"But, young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach, and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!"&lt;br /&gt;The young man listened politely. Then bent down, picked another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said, "It made a difference for that one."&lt;br /&gt;Each of us can make a difference to this world. Everybody is useful and it is just the matter of whether u want to make a difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110864632733237286?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110864632733237286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110864632733237286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110864632733237286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110864632733237286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/once-upon-time-there-was-wise-man-who.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110855263344934840</id><published>2005-02-16T19:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T19:17:13.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt; It had been raining for more than a week, so much rain it made everyday seemed so restless and gloomy. She called and said she was coming up. It was the third time she came up to see me that week. I carried her excuse of why she came all the way here and went to meet her at the nearby seven-eleven. She was standing there alone, carrying her red umbrella. Her friend had dropped her off. It was raining and she was shivering. She looked weak and fragile in the harsh rain, wearing not enough to keep her warm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt; I walked up to her and said, "You shouldn't come see me anymore," and stuff like how we shouldn't be together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;She said, "I miss you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt; I told her coldly, "Lets go, I'll take you home." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;She did not open up her umbrella, I knew she wanted to share mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt; I said, "Open up your umbrella, let's go." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Unwillingly, She opened up her umbrella and walked with me to the car. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;She said she hadn't eat lunch or dinner and asked if we could stop at some place to eat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Right away I answered with a stoned heart, "No!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; Disappointed, she asked me to take her to the train station, she said she would take the train back home.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Maybe it was the rain, all the trains were full of people with umbrellas and suit cases who were eager to get home, not caring about who just passed by. We waited and waited, she looked at me innocently. Being together for so long, of course I knew what she meant. I understand how she must feel when she came all this way here in this kind of weather and I treat her like this. With her soft eyes staring at me, I felt guilt and wanted to let her stay for the night.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;But reality struck again, I said to her coldly, "Let's go try the other train station."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;We were living in the same apartment building, on the same floor. Back then there were four of us, and we got along well. We would always eat dinner together, watch movies, and sometimes go camping. We were more like a family, but I didn't know I would end up falling in love with the only girl of the four. Maybe it was during the last year of college, having living together for two years, we developed deep feelings for each other. After she graduated she went back home, and I stayed for one more year to finish school. During that year I was only able to take the train down to see her on holidays, but never for long. That was how we kept the treasured relationship.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt; We were walking along the side of the road. She was in front of me and I was right behind her. Her umbrella had a broken spoke. She looked liked a wounded soldier, carrying her rusted rifle walking weakly. Many times, she was too into thinking or whatever she was doing, drifting off the road, she almost got hit by the cars passing by. I wanted to just take her in my arms, but with the love I had for her and the constant pain in my stomach, I did nothing. On the way, we passed by the park where we use to always go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; She begged and said, "Lets go in the park just for a little while please, I promise I'll go home right after this."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;With her begging, my cold heart softened, but I still put up an annoyed face and walked in the park. I was just sitting on the benches looking like I wanted to leave. She went to the big oak tree and she was looking for something. I knew she was looking for what we wrote on that tree with a silver ink pen half a year ago. If I remember it right, it said, "Chris and Susan was here, Chris had tea and Susan was drinking hot chocolate. Hope Chris and Susan would always remember this day, always loving each other, forever."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;She was looking around for quite a while, then she came back slowly with tears on her face. She said, "Chris, I can't find it, it's not there anymore."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;I felt so sour inside, there was a stream of pain, flowing into my heart, the kind of pain I've never felt before. But all I could do was pretend I didn't care, and said, "Can we go now?"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt; I opened up my big black umbrella, she was just standing there, didn't want to leave yet, hoping there was still a chance. She said, "You made up the story of you and that other girl didn't you? I know I frustrate you sometimes, but I'll change, can't we start over?"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I didn't say a word, just looked down and shook my head. After that we just kept on walking towards the train station, didn't say a word to each other.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Four years ago, the doctor said I had cancer, but it was found early, so it was still curable. Thinking that it was okay, I started living my normal life again, and even forgot about the cancer. I didn't think about the cancer again and did not go back to the doctor. Until a month ago, my stomach was hurting for two weeks straight, and the nightmare awakened me again. First I thought the pain would go away, but it grew stronger until to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. I went back to the doctor and took an X-ray. The picture came out and there was a big black spot, which proved the truth that I did not want to believe. I was at the most glittering part of my life, but it was coming to an end. I wanted myself and the people around me to go through the least pain possible, so I decided to commit suicide. But I couldn't let people find out about my intentions, especially Susan, the person I love the most in this whole world, who still doesn't know about the truth. Susan was still young, she shouldn't have to go through this. So I made up some stories and lied to her. It was a cruel thing to do, and it broke her heart, but it was the fastest way to wipe out three years's feelings. I didn't have much time, because I would soon start to loose hair and she would find out eventually. But now I'm close to succeeding, this drama would soon be over. Thirty minutes more this would all come to an end, that was what I had in mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;The train had stopped running so I called a taxi for her. We were just standing there, waiting, loosing our last moments in silence. I saw the taxi from far away, I held my tears and said to her, "Take care of yourself, take good care of yourself." She didn't talk, just nodded lightly, and then opened up her misshaped umbrella and stepped out on the street. Out in the rain, we became two single life forms, one red, one black, so far away from each other. I opened the door for her and she got in, then I close the gate that would separate me from her forever. I stood by the car, staring in the dark window, at the first love in my life, also the last one, walking out of my life. The car started, driving into the street.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Finally I couldn't hold my sorrow and the twist in my heart any longer, waving my arms rapidly chasing after the taxi, because I knew, this would be the last time I see her. I wanted to tell her I still love her, I wanted to tell her to stay, I wanted to tell her so much, but the taxi had already turned in the corner. Warm tears kept falling down my face, blended with the cold rain drops. I was cold, not because of the rain. I was cold inside.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110855263344934840?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110855263344934840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110855263344934840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110855263344934840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110855263344934840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/it-had-been-raining-for-more-than-week.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110855177647976404</id><published>2005-02-16T19:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T19:21:23.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Life Together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One fine day, an old couple around the age of 70, walks into a lawyer's office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, they are there to file a divorce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Lawyer was very puzzled, after having a chat with them, he got their story....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This couple had been quarreling all their 40 over yrs of marriage nothing ever seems to go right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They hang on coz of their children, afraid that it might affect their up-bringing.Now, all their children have already grown up, have their own family, there's nothing else the old couple have to worry about, all they wanted is to lead their own life free from all these yrs of unhappiness from their marriage, so both agree on a divorce....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Lawyer was having a hard time trying to get the papers done, coz he felt that after 40 yrs of marriage at the age of 70, he couldnt understand why the old couple would still wants a divorce..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while they were signing the papers, the wife told the husband..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I really love u, but i really cant carry on anymore,i'm sorry.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"its o.k, i understand.." said the husband. Lookin at this, the lawyer suggested a dinner together, just 3 of them,wife thought, why not, since they are still gonna be friends..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the dining table, there was a silence of awkardness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first dish was roasted chicken, immediately, the old man took the drumstick for the old lady.."take this, its your favourite.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking at this, the lawyer tot maybe theres still a chance, but the wife was frowning when she answer.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is always the problem, u always think so highly of urself, never tot abt how i feel, dun u know tat i hate drumsticks?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did she know tat, over the yrs, the husband have been trying all ways to please her,little did she know tat drumsticks was the husband's favourite.Little did he know tat she never tot he understand her at all,little did he know tat she hates drummsticks even thou all he wants is the best for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, both of them couldnt sleep, toss and turn, toss and turn...after hours, the old man couldnt take it anymore, he knows that he still loves her, and he cant carry on life without her, he wants her back, he wants to tell her, he is sorry, he wanted to tell her "i love u"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picks up the phone, starting dialing her number....ringing never stops..he never stop dialing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other side, she was sad, she couldn’t understand how come after all these yrs, he still doesnt understand her at all, she loves him a lot, but she just cant take it anymore....phone's ringing, she refuses to answer knowing tat its him..."whats the point of talking now tat its over...i have ask for it and now i wanna keep it this way, if not i will lose face.."she thought...still ringing...she have decided to pull out the cord...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did she remember, he have heart problems...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The next day, she received news that he had passed away...she rushed down to his apartment, saw his body, lying on the couch still holding on to the phone...he had a heart attack when he was still trying to get thru her phone line....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sad as she could be...she will have to clear his belongings...when she was looking thru the drawers, she saw this insurance policy, dated from the day they got married, beneficiary of coz its her...together in tat file theres this note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"to my dearest wife, by the time u r reading this, i'm sure i'm no longer around, i bought this policy for u, thou the amount is only $100k, i hope it will be able to help me cont my promise tat i have made when we got married, i might not be around anymore, i want this amount of money to cont taking care of u, just like the way i will if i could have live longer. i wan u to know i will always be around, by your side...i love u"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears flowed like river......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When u love someone, let them know... u never know what will happen the next min....learn to build a life together.. learn to love each other. for who they are.. not what they r..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110855177647976404?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110855177647976404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110855177647976404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110855177647976404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110855177647976404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/life-together-one-fine-day-old-couple.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110847915936095705</id><published>2005-02-15T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T21:23:00.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The Salty Coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He met her at a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he was so normal, nobody paid attention to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, and she thought to herself, "Please, let me go home..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he asked the waiter, "Would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee." Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously, "Why you have this hobby?" He replied, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there." While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home... Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to the prince, and then they were living the happy life... And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that's the way he liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said, "My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life's lie. This was the only lie I said to you---the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything... Now I'm dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth, I don't like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste... But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again."Her tears made the letter totally wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, someone asked her, "What's the taste of salty coffee?" She replied, "It's sweet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is not to forget but to forgive, not to see but understand, not to hear but to listen, not to let go but HOLD ON!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110847915936095705?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110847915936095705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110847915936095705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847915936095705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847915936095705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/salty-coffee-he-met-her-at-party.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110847904382377999</id><published>2005-02-15T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T22:50:43.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It all started when I was 6 years old. While I was playing outside on my farm in California, I met a boy. He was an average kind of boy who teased you and then you chased them and beat them up. After that first meeting in which I beat him up we kept on meeting and beating each other up at the fence. That only lasted for a little while though. We would meet at the fence all the time and we were always together.I would tell him all my secrets. He was very quiet he would just listen to what I had to say. I found him easy to talk to and I could talk to him about everything. In school we had separate friends but when we got home we would always talk about what happened in school. One day I said to him that a guy I liked hurt me and broke my heart. He just comforted me and said everything would be okay. He gave me words of encouragement and helped me get over him. I was happy and thought of him as a real friend. But I knew that there was something else about him that I liked. I thought of it that night and figured it was just a friend kinda thing that I was feeling.All through high school and even through graduation we're always together and of course I thought of it as being friends. But I knew deep inside that I really felt differently. On graduation night even though we had different dates to the prom I wanted to be with him. That night after everybody went home I went to his house and wanted to tell him that I wanted to see him. Well, that night was my big chance and all I did was just sit there with him watching the stars and talking about what I was going to do and what he was going to do. I looked into his eyes and listened to him talk about what his dream was. How he wanted to get married and settle down. He said how he wanted to be rich and successful. All I could do was to tell him my dream and cuddle next to him.I went home hurting because I didn't tell him how I was feeling. I wanted to tell him so bad that I loved him but I was too scared and frightened. I let my feelings go and told myself that someday I would tell him just how I felt. All through college I wanted to tell him but he always had someone with him. After graduation he got a job in New York, I was happy for him but at the same time I was sad to see him go. I was sad also because I didn't tell him how I felt. But I couldn't let him know now that he was leaving for his big job. So I just kept it to myself and watched him go on the plane. I cried as I hugged him for what I felt was going to be the last time. I went home that night and cried my eyes out. I felt hurt that I didn't tell him what I had inside my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I got a job as a secretary and then worked my way to a computer analyst. I was proud of what I had accomplished. One day I got a letter with an invitation to a marriage. It was from him, I was happy and sad at the same time. Now I know that I could never be with him and that we could only be friends. I went to the wedding the next month. It was a big occasion. The big church wedding and the reception at the hotel. I met the bride and of course him. I fell in love one more time. But I held back so it wouldn't spoil what should be the happiest day in his life. I tried to have fun that night but it was killing me inside watching him being so happy and me trying to be happy covering up my sadness tears inside of me. I left New York feeling that I did the right thing. Before I left on the flight, he came running out of nowhere and said his good-byes and how he was very happy to see me. I came home and just tried to forget about what went on in New York. I had to go on with my life. As the years went on, we wrote to each other on what was going on and how he had missed talking to me. On one occasion he never wrote back to me at all. I was getting worried as to why he hadn't written anything for a long time after I had already written 6 letters to him. Well, just when everything seemed hopeless and sad in my life, I got a note that said: "meet me at the fence where we used to talk about things". I went and saw him there. I was happy to see him, but he was broken-hearted and sad inside. We hugged until we couldn't breathe anymore. Then he told me about the divorce and why he hadn't written for a long time. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore. Finally, we went back to the house and talked and laughed about what I had been going and to catch up on old times. But in all of this, I couldn't tell him how I felt about him. In the days that followed, he had fun and forgot about all his problem and his divorce. I fell in love again with him. When it came time for him to leave back to New York, I went to see him off and cried. I hated to see him leave. He promised to see me every time he could get a vacation. I couldn't wait for him to come so I could be with him. We would always have fun when we were together. One day he didn't show up like he said he would. I figured that he might have been busy. The days turned into months and I just forgot about it. Then I got a call one day from a lawyer in New York. The lawyer said that he had died in a car accident going to the airport. And that it took this long till everything was settled. It broke my heart. I was shocked about what took place. Now I knew why he didn't come that day. Again, I was broken-hearted. I cried that night, cried tears of sadness and heartache. Asking questions why did this happen to a kind guy like him?I gathered my things and went to New York for the reading of his will. Of course, things were given to his family and his ex-wife. I finally got to meet her since the last time we met at the wedding. She explained to me how he was and how he always provided. But he was always unhappy. She would always try everything but she couldn't get him happy, as he was that night at their wedding. When the will was read, the one thing that was given to me was a diary. It was a diary that of his life. I cried as it was given to me. I didn't know what to think. Why was this given to me? I took it and flew back to California. As I flew on the plane I remembered the good times that we had together. I started reading the diary and what was written. The diary was started with the day we first met. I read on till I started to cry. The diary told of him saying that he had fallen in love with me that day I was broken-hearted. But he was too afraid to tell me what he had felt. That is why he was so quiet and liked to listen to me. It told of how he wanted to tell me so many times, but was too afraid to say anything. It told of when he went to New York and fell in love with another. How the happiest time he had was seeing me and dancing with me at the wedding. He said he imagined it was our wedding. How he was always unhappy till he had no choice but to divorce his wife. How the best time in his life was to read the letters written to him by me. Finally, the diary ended when it said, "today I will tell her I love her". It was the day he was killed.The day I was going to finally find out what was really in his heart. If you love someone, don't wait till tomorrow to tell him/her. Maybe that next day will never come at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110847904382377999?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110847904382377999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110847904382377999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847904382377999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847904382377999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/it-all-started-when-i-was-6-years-old.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110847862103446058</id><published>2005-02-15T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T22:43:41.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Only Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a cold February night. People are bustling through the streets, either pulling up their coat collars or wrapping scarves around their necks, trying to stay warm. It's so cold today.I'm standing at my window, looking at the people moving like little dots. Standing in a heated room, I'm beginning to pity those people. Why don't they go home? Do they plan on wandering until morning? "Almost time to go home! My boyfriend must be going crazy." One of the nurses breathe a sign of relief. "Still needs to work overtime on Valentine's Day. It's so unfair!" "You are fortunate." Another nurse says. "Some people don't have anyone waiting for them." "You mean Dr. Shu?" Like Sherlock Holmes, my ears perk up when I hear my name. "Do you remember how she lost control on this day last year?" "Of course I do." A nurse shudders. "I've never seen Dr. Shu like that. Crying and yelling, like she was crazy." They are talking about how I was last year. They are correct. I was out of control, like they said. "You can't blame Dr. Shu. If my boyfriend died in front of my eyes, I would probably go crazy as well." "Keep it down. She hasn't left work yet. She might hear you." The two nurses are too late. I heard the entire conversation through the canvas wall. "Dr. Shu, what are you doing standing here?" Just as I was deciding whether or not to reveal myself, another nurse exposed me. I awkwardly step out. The 2 nurses who discussed me start to blush. Their faces became redder than the bow on Valentine's Day chocolates. "I'm waiting to go home." I pretend that I didn't hear anything. "Dr. Shu, you must have gotten too involved in your work. It's already past time to go home. See you tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day!" She waves goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happy Valentine's Day." I wave back and watch the 2 nurses hurry away. That's fine. I was ready to go home anyway. Even though no lover is waiting for me, at least there's a lazy cat waiting for me to feed. After I come home, the first thing I do is feed the cat. I forgot when I first had the cat. Probably since last year's Valentine's Day. At that time, I was like an abandoned cat, with eyes filled with despair. Cats don't cry, I do. That's the only difference. "Better drink all the milk or I'll skin you." I threatened the cat. Her name is Christine, my least favorite English name. I don't know why I named the cat Christine. Christine meowed once to let me know she heard me, but her eyes are complaining about my severity. Her eyes remind me of someone I used to know, standing in front of me with eyes of rebellions. An year ago today, I had lunch with my boyfriend and took the opportunity to complain to him. "Today is Valentine's Day. Why didn't you give me any flowers?" He raised his eyebrow. "Why should I give you flowers? You are not my anyone." "Then... you should at least give me a card!" I pouted my lips, hurt by his tone. "I know, I know. After lunch, I'll send you an e-card." E-card. That sounds so impersonal, but that's the way he is. "You have to e-mail it to me. I'll be waiting." I excitedly smiled and planned to sneak home after lunch to check e-mail. Even though he wouldn't use any romantic words, I still looked forward to the card. "I can't stand you women. Why do you make such a big deal out of Valentine's Day??" He grumbled while eating his food. His comment induced me to fight with him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are not romantic at all!! Don't you watch any Japanese drama?" "Japanese drama? I only watch Discovery Channel." "Your life is so boring." I made a face at him. "One recent drama was really good. You should have watched it." "What's that drama called?" He didn't believe in the love portrayed in TV and movies. He always thought they were lies. "It's called 'Story of A Century'." I gladly answered. "What kind of trashy plot did it have?" "What do you mean trash?? Show some respect!" I was so angry. "That drama was very touching, and the theme song was beautiful as well. It's called 'Only Love', performed by Nana Mouskouri." I wonder if he knew who Nana was. "Nana, I know her. A Greek singer with really expensive albums." "Her voice is worth it." Even though I secretly agreed with him, I couldn't bring myself to admit it. "Whatever." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you 5 minutes to tell me the plot. After that, I'm leaving." I tried hard to explain 6 hours worth of story in just 5 minutes. The drama portrayed the love stories of 3 generations of women spanning 100 years, from 1901 to 2000. Each generation was portrayed by the same actress. The story was tear-jerking. "What's so touching about it?" He asked, after listening to the story. "Don't you think each generation's story is wonderful? If I have such great screen writing ability, I wouldn't be a doctor anymore. I would become a screenwriter." "If you become a screenwriter, I bet no one would watch the show. The TV station can go out of business." He quickly interjected. "I'm going back to work. Hurry and send me the card!" I was so mad that I went home immediately, not even finishing my coffee. As soon as I walked in my door, I turned on my computer and go online. Staring at the empty in-box, I began to reminisce about how we met. Maybe no one will believe me, but my boyfriend and I were actually neighbors. Our homes were only 1 wall away. Ever since we were kids, we liked to fight with each other all day long. I still remember when I moved to the country that year. Used to the city life, I couldn't get used to the simple life in the country. After school, I would just go home and do nothing. Whenever that happened, he would always come over to tease me. "Why are you staring off into space??" He loved to pull on my hair. "You're so ugly when you're doing nothing. But you're also not pretty when you smile." In other words, I'm really ugly. "You're the one who's ugly!" I pull back my hair. "If you think I'm so ugly, why do you visit me??" "Can't help it. My home is right next to your home." He argued. "Then I'll move!" The next day, I drew a line in the ground using some white chalk. A line that I forbid him to cross. That year, we were both in the 5th grade. We couldn't stand each other and hoped the other would move away. But 5 years passed, and neither of us moved. Not only that, we got into the same high school and into the same class. "You're that infamous couple." All the students and teachers in the school would say whenever they saw us. "We're not!" I always tried to explain. "We're only neighbors." At that time, I hated my parents for making us live next to him. "My standard is not that low." He would say. "Who wants her to be a girlfriend?? It's not like I don't have eyes." "Yes, I know your eyes are on top of your head." I really disliked him. "Better than having eyes on the bottom of my head like you." He implied that I couldn't judge guys. At that time, I had a crush on a senior. I didn't think that his sarcasm had a hidden meaning. After a while, I found out that the senior student had lots of girlfriends. When I cried about it, he silently passed me a handkerchief and awkwardly held me in his arms. "I told you he wasn't any good." He roughly comforted me. I cried in his arms the whole night, and began to see him in a different way. Things began to change between us. We still fought all the time, but he started to look at me differently. And I blushed and my heart beat faster when he was near. We both knew: we fell in love with each other. Even with this knowledge, neither of us said anything. Even though we would not be able to resist and kissed each other constantly. Even though we cared about each other's every moves. Both of us refused to admit our love. Time flew by quickly, and it was time to face separation. I chose to study medicine, and he chose physics. Yet we still couldn't separate from each other. Our parents worried that we didn't know anyone in Taipei, so they forced us to live in the same apartment building. Once again, we became neighbors. We still fought, but sometimes we fought into the bedroom. Alright, we became lovers, but we still wouldn't say we loved each other. We didn't even spend Valentine's Day together until he saw me share dinner with a man one Valentine's Day. That night, he waited for me in front of my door and said that he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day from then on. I have to say that he was very arrogant. But I nodded and accepted his request. Since then, we spent every Valentine's Day together. After graduation, I became an intern. He started a small computer company with some friends and became a programmer. We were busy with our own lives and had no time for a relationship. Three years later, I became a doctor, and his business began to boom. We separately moved to bigger apartments and stopped being neighbors. On the surface, we left each other. In reality, we were still together. We spent every Valentine's Day together but each year became more dreary than the next because he never told me he loved me even with all my hints. Facing the empty in-box, I suddenly grew very angry. He wouldn't say it and wouldn't send me a card. What did he mean? Who did he think I was? I called his cell phone. "Hello." He picked up the phone. "I didn't receive the card." I immediately showed my displeasure. "You didn't receive it?" He seemed really busy. "But I sent it." He was really busy but I didn't care. "I didn't receive it. Send it again." "Okay, I'll send you 100 times. Is that good enough??" He said with impatience. His tone further infuriated me. Is that how lovers speak to each other? "Don't bother sending it to me. And you don't have to pick me up tonight. I'll eat dinner by myself." "Don't be childish, ok? I'm really busy." "I AM childish!" I hung up the phone and tears rolled down my cheeks. Childish?? Why didn't he consider the situation? We've gone out for so many years and spent countless Valentine's Day together. I never received any flowers nor cards from him. Now, I just want a little e-card. Is that too much to ask for?? I unplugged the phone from the wall and turned off my cell phone. I didn't want to hear his explanations. After I returned to the hospital, I instructed the receptionist not to forward me any phone calls. I wanted to concentrate on work. Because there were so many emergencies today, I was sweating 1 hour later and forgot about our argument. "Dr. Shu, please take a look at that patient." As I was collecting my equipment, the shrill sound of an ambulance sounded outside the ER. When I stepped out the door, the emergency medics hurriedly wheeled in a gurney. "What happened to him?" I asked the 1st medic. Everyone else were trying to help put the patient on the gurney. He was covered with blood. "Car accident." The medic replied. "Very serious. He may die." I nodded and ran to the operating room with them. When I arrived, the nurses told me that the man had already stopped breathing and also his heartbeat also stopped "Prepare for shock." I calmly instructed the nurses. Saving people is our duty. We can't lose our calm. But when I saw who laid on the operating table, I lost my calm. That person was my boyfriend! "No..." I stood in shock. "NO!!!" I grabbed the paddles and continuously shocked his body. His body bounced up and down from the shocks. The scared nurses went to find another doctor, to tell him that I was crazy. I didn't know if I was crazy or not. I just wanted to save my lover. Even though we fought all the time. Even though he never showed me his love. I still wanted to save him. He still owed me a card. He couldn't die! I threw away the paddles and began to press on his heart. I pressed with all my strength, hoping it would revive him, but he didn't wake up. He didn't even say "It hurts". He just laid there with his eyes closed, punishing me with his silence. Dr. Jian angrily pushed me away. By that time, I couldn't see clearly anymore. I cried. I wailed. I bowled until no sounds could come out of my mouth. "It's too late, Dr. Shu. He's already dead. I'm sorry." Dr. Jian patted me on the shoulder. They knew each other and ate together once. I introduced them. "He can't die." I shook my head. "He can't die!!" I struggled to run to him. "Dr. Shu, control yourself!" Dr. Jian slapped me. "I understand what you're going through, but you're a doctor." Yes, I'm a doctor, but I'm also a regular person. How can Dr. Jian understand how I feel? I've loved him for so many years that it's become a habit. How can I just throw away a habit? Besides, he still owed me a card. "I want him to live! I want him to live!" I ran to him again and tried to knock the life back into his body. "Take her away!" That day, I lost my control and my professionalism. And that day happened to be Valentine's Day. Afterwards, I asked his co-workers why he left work early that day. They told me that after I hung up the phone, he tried to call me several times but couldn't reach me. Worried, he drove to the hospital to find me and got hit by a large truck on the way.&lt;br /&gt;When I heard this, I froze. My tantrum killed him. Just because of an unmailed card, he died. After that, I lost my privilege to be childish. Like an abandoned cat, I couldn't even cry anymore. After his death, I couldn't cry anymore, regardless of how touching the plot or how tear-jerking the dialogue. They didn't affect me anymore. Now, I'm only left with a cat and a seldomly used computer. Stepping over the cat, I turned on the computer. Even though I know no one will send me a mail, I still hoped that someone will remember me on this day. Meow, meow. I looked at Christine to see what's wrong. She finished her milk. I went into the kitchen to get her more milk then came back to look at the computer screen. I have.... 100 emails! Who would be bored enough to send me 100 junk mail? I was just about to delete them all when I received another mail, and this one said: "Because of system error, we could not send these until today. We apologize for the delay." The sender was my ISP. I looked at the 1st mail. It showed the send date is last year's Valentine's Day. My heart began to beat fast. Could he have sent these? With a trembling hand, I opened the mail. The first thing that popped up was a gorgeous red rose set against green leaves. Then a beautiful melody began to play.... "Only Love". I couldn't believe it. The rose was so beautiful and the music was so dreamy. I almost thought I was in a fantasy. Most touching of all were the words underneath the rose, because the words read like a beautiful poem. "Hwei." That's my name. "Knowing you so many years, I've never sent you any flowers. Today I send you a rose." I received it and it's so beautiful. "You know we are always fighting. We can never really open our hearts and tell each other how we feel." Yes, but it's all your fault for being so distant. "I know I always make you mad by the things I say." Good that you're admitting it. "But today I want to say to you: I'm sorry, and I love you." I waited so many years for those words. "And I want to tell you a good news. I finally saved enough money." You already have enough money. Why did you need so much? "So Hwei, let's get married!! I was afraid to propose to you, because I didn't trust in my ability to give you the good life you deserve. But now I've saved enough money so we don't have to wait anymore." Who wanted you to wait? I'm already yours. "Today, I use this card to propose to you. Will you marry me, Hwei? Will you?" That's the content of the whole card. Like a fool, I kept reading his words and talking to him. It's like I can hear his voice and see him again. As if it's back to 1 year ago with us constantly fighting. The song played over and over. Repeating Nana's heartbreaking voice. Only love can make a memory. Only love can make a moment last. You were there and all the world was young and all it's songs unsung. and I remember you then when love was all, all you were living for, and how you gave that love to me...." The lyrics of this song fits our love so closely. When he was alive, my world was so young. Every day, I could find a something different to fight with him about. But after he left, my life is only left with memories and coldness that will never go away. "Will you marry me?" When I read these words, my tears unconsciously came, wetting the keyboard. Will I? If he's in front of me, I will definitely kick him and call him a big fool. If I wasn't willing, I wouldn't have waited until today. So I moved the cursor over the "Reply" box, and typed the response that I've already prepared for so many years - "I will." I will - be by his side for the rest of my life. I will - fight with him forever. That is how I answered him, but the only response I got was the repeating song "Only Love." Nevertheless, I opened every single letter, accepted every singled rose, and typed the same response: "I will." I replied 100 times, and "Only Love" played 100 times. In this cold Valentine's night, the line that's been broken for 1 year finally got reconnected. I answered you. What about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110847862103446058?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110847862103446058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110847862103446058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847862103446058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847862103446058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/only-love-its-cold-february-night.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110847790414396870</id><published>2005-02-15T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T22:31:44.150+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Regrets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:stories@lovefatedestiny.com?subject=Love%20stories"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10th grade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called "best friend". I stared at her long, silky hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it.After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11th grade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn't want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep.She looked at me, said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.Senior yearThe day before prom she walked to my locker. "My date is sick" she said; he's not going to go well, I didn't have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as "best friends". So we did. Prom night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step! I stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I want her to be mine, but she isn't think of me like that, and I know it. Then she said "I had the best time, thanks!" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduation Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, "you're my best friend, thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Few Years Later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. I watched her say "I do" and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn`t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said "you came!". She said "thanks" and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FuneralYears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my "best friend". At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years. This is what it read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stared at him wishing he was mine, but he doesn't notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me!I wish I did too... I thought to my self, and I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110847790414396870?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110847790414396870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110847790414396870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847790414396870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847790414396870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/regrets-10th-grade-as-i-sat-there-in.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110847752310883799</id><published>2005-02-15T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T22:25:23.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was this guy who believed very much in true love and decided to take his time to wait for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his right girl to appear. He believed that there would definitely be someone special out there for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him, but none came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year at Christmas, his ex-girlfriend would return from Vancouver to look him up. He was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aware that she still held some hope of re-kindling the past romance with him. He did not wish to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mislead her in any way. So he would always get one of his girl friends to pose as his steady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whenever she came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; That went on for several years and each year, the guy would get a different girl to pose as his&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;romantic interest. So whenever the ex-girlfriend came to visit him, she would be led into&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;believing that it was all over between her and the guy. The girl took all those rather well, often&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to casually tease him about his different girlfriends, or so, as it seemed! In fact, the girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;often wept in secret whenever she saw him with another girl, but she was too proud to admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, every Christmas, she returned, hoping to re-kindle some form of romance. But each time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she returned to Vancouver feeling disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally she decided that she could not play that game any longer. Therefore, she confronted him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and professed that after all those years, he was still the only man that she had ever loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the guy knew of her feelings for him, he was still taken back and have never expected&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her to react that way. He always thought that she would slowly forget about him over time and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come to terms that it was all over between them. Although he was touched by her undying love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for him and wanted so much to accept her again, he remembered why he rejected her in the first&lt;br /&gt;place-she was not the one he wanted. So he hardened his heart and turned her down cruelly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, three years have passed and the girl never return anymore. They never even wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to each other. The guy went on with his life..... still searching for the one but somehow deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inside him, he missed the girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the Christmas of 1995, he went to his friend's party alone. "Hey, how come all alone this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;year? Where are all your girlfriends? What happened to that Vancouver babe who joins you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every Christmas?", asked one of his friend. He felt warm and comforted by his friend's queries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about her, still he just surged on. Then, he came upon one of his many girlfriends whom he once&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;requested to pose as his steady. He wanted so much to ignore her ..... not that he was impolite,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but because at that moment, he just didn't feel comfortable with those girlfriends anymore. It&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was almost like he was being judged by them. The girl saw him and shouted across the floor for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him. Unable to avoid her, he went up to acknowledge her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi......how are you? Enjoying the party?" the girl asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure.....yeah!", he replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was slightly tipsy..... must be from the whiskey on her hand. She continued,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why...? Don't you need someone to pose as your girlfriend this year?" Then he answered, "No,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is no need for that anymore......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he can continue, he was interrupted, "Oh yes! Must have found a girlfriend! You haven't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;been searching for one for the past years, right?" The man looked up, as if he has struck gold, his&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;face beamed and looked directly at the drunken girl. He replied, "Yes......you are right! I haven't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;been looking for anyone for the past years." With that, the man darted across the floor and out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the door, leaving the lady in much bewilderment. He finally realized that he has already found&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his dream girl, and she was.....the Vancouver girl all along! The drunken lady has said something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that awoken him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All along he has found his girl. That was why he did not bother to look further when he realized&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she was not coming back. It was not any specific girl he was seeking! It was perfection that he&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wanted, and yes.....perfection!! Relationship is something both parties should work on. Realizing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that he had let away someone so important in his life, he decided to call her immediately. His&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whole mind was flooded with fear. He was afraid that she might have found someone new or no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;longer had the same feelings anymore..... For once, he felt the fear of losing someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it was Christmas eve, the line was quite hard to get through, especially an overseas call. He&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tried again and again, never giving up. Finally, he got through......precisely at 1200 midnight. He&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;confessed his love for her and the girl was moved to tears. It seemed that she never got over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him! Even after so long, she was still waiting for him, never giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was so excited to meet her and to begin his new chapter of their lives. He decided to fly to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vancouver to join her. It was the happiest time of their lives! But their happy time was short-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lived. Two days before he was supposed to fly to Vancouver, he received a call from her father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a head-on car collision with a drunken driver. She passed away after 6 hours in a coma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy was devastated, as it was a complete loss. Why did fate played such cruel games with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him? He cursed the heaven for taking her away from him, denying even one last look at her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How cruel he cursed! How he damned the Gods...!! How he hated himself....for taking so long to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;realize his mistake!! That was in 1996.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is : -Treasure what you have...Time is too slow for those who wait;Too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;swift for those who fear;Too long for those who grief;Too short for those who rejoice;But for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those who love...Time is Eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all you out there with someone special in your heart, cherish that person, cherish every&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moment that you spend together that special someone, for in life, anything can happen anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may painfully regret, only to realise that it is too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110847752310883799?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110847752310883799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110847752310883799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847752310883799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847752310883799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/there-was-this-guy-who-believed-very.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110847228597439866</id><published>2005-02-15T20:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T20:58:05.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>haiz..&lt;br /&gt;i duno y.. i dunno how to do A MATHS!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aRGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am so STRESSED UP~!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dunno wad to do now.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i finished using my foolscap.. n i have no paper ._&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; went jane's hse jus now,, was playin wif e com n piano until 5++// den went hoime...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyday so stressed up now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haiz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if he can cope not..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110847228597439866?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110847228597439866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110847228597439866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847228597439866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110847228597439866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/haiz_15.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110838955811594668</id><published>2005-02-14T21:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T21:59:18.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>haiz.. no1 understands how my heart feels now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also dunno how to describe this feelin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its like i lost a part of my heart..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if only u can fill up that hole..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haiz =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was valentines today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i was celebratin it wif cat manda shiwei n grace..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahas.. we bought balloons for 1 another.. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den after sch went tm.. bought bookS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wahhaha ^^.. like very hardworkin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den went home..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n i'm very tired..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel very empty too..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not as in stomach..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as in my soul..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a lonely soul..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if only..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haiz..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110838955811594668?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110838955811594668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110838955811594668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110838955811594668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110838955811594668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/haiz.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110803620174807704</id><published>2005-02-10T19:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T19:50:01.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Gui Ji - Jay Zhou Jie Lun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I hide my sorrow?&lt;br /&gt;The place I lost you&lt;br /&gt;The scent of your hair&lt;br /&gt;Scatters hastilyI already cannot follow it&lt;br /&gt;Close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I can still see&lt;br /&gt;The vestige of when you left&lt;br /&gt;Under the moonlight&lt;br /&gt;Always been searching for&lt;br /&gt;That figure that I miss&lt;br /&gt;If you said that break up is the starting point of pain&lt;br /&gt;Then before the finish line&lt;br /&gt;I am willing to love again&lt;br /&gt;Want to say to you&lt;br /&gt;The love I dare not say&lt;br /&gt;Will there be someone who understands?&lt;br /&gt;I will be staring blankly&lt;br /&gt;Then forget you&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that I will tightly close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of which day&lt;br /&gt;When there will be someone to be in your place&lt;br /&gt;To make me not think about you anymoreI will be staring blankly&lt;br /&gt;Then smile&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that I will tightly close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Think about it again&lt;br /&gt;Your gentle faceBefore I forget&lt;br /&gt;The tears in my heart&lt;br /&gt;Obscures my visual line&lt;br /&gt;Soon you already cannot be seen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110803620174807704?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110803620174807704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110803620174807704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110803620174807704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110803620174807704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/gui-ji-jay-zhou-jie-lun-how-can-i-hide.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110803601907929918</id><published>2005-02-10T19:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T22:00:31.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hui Dao Guo Qu - Jay Zhou Jie Lun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A yellow and old lightTime is at the side, suffocating without uttering a word&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness starts with completely no sense of propriety&lt;br /&gt;Don’t understand the difference between light and heavy&lt;br /&gt;Silence&lt;br /&gt;Propping up jumps across strange&lt;br /&gt;Quietly watching early dawn and dusk&lt;br /&gt;Your body shape&lt;br /&gt;Loses balance&lt;br /&gt;Slowly sinksDarkness is already flying around in mid air&lt;br /&gt;Should proceed where, I cannot see&lt;br /&gt;Maybe love is in another end of the dream&lt;br /&gt;No way of living in real space&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to the past&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to hold you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;The sheepish face carries a bit of childishness&lt;br /&gt;I want to see&lt;br /&gt;The world you seeI want to be in your dream’s frame&lt;br /&gt;As long as I can depend on being together&lt;br /&gt;I can then feel the sweetness&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to the past&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to let the story continue&lt;br /&gt;At least I don’t let you leave me again&lt;br /&gt;Divert time's attention&lt;br /&gt;This time I will hold you even more tightlyI request you to stay like this, I don’t know if I am too late or notI want to go back to the past&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts are unceasingly stopping memories from being broadcasted&lt;br /&gt;Blindly chasing and searching, still vastly empty&lt;br /&gt;The dusky night, I am sleepy but I don’t know where to hide&lt;br /&gt;The moment I turned around, loneliness is already lying by my side&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110803601907929918?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110803601907929918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110803601907929918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110803601907929918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110803601907929918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/hui-dao-guo-qu-jay-zhou-jie-lun-yellow.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110766319537076517</id><published>2005-02-06T13:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T12:13:15.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm so fulL!!! just ate a big big piece of cake.. haha,.,,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went to orchard yesterday with wenjie cat.. n sw n manda were super!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 was late for 1hr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e other 1 late for 1h 15 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i noe cant blame manda la.. hahas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but sw hor.. next time set alarm clock mah!! aiyo..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were supposed to meet at 1.30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at that TAN SHI WEI overslept leh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder how she sleep de.. hahas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tmr goin back to sch le..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i haven't finish my hw.. but left chi only&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den i tink gettin back results..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope i can get good results..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den yesterday too late already..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so nvr watch movie..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went borders...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den went far east plaza..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toook np den went home..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110766319537076517?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110766319537076517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110766319537076517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110766319537076517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110766319537076517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/im-so-full-just-ate-big-big-piece-of.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110734758236789629</id><published>2005-02-02T20:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-02T20:33:02.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;phew.. chem n emaths test tmr.. n i still online.. hahas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;i still miss him..haiz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;jus now on e bus got 1 guy.. who got some mental problems..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;and i tink he tried to hit a guy behind him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;n he started scoldin him lor.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;den tell e driver... den got 1 guy tried to tell him that e man is always lidat..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;in e end kana scolded by him.. poor thing..haiz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;wonder if "he" will celebrate valentines day.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;if only i cld celebrate it wif him... haiz..&lt;br /&gt;that will only happens in 1 condition&lt;br /&gt;when i am dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110734758236789629?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110734758236789629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110734758236789629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110734758236789629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110734758236789629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/phew.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110725508134024269</id><published>2005-02-01T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-01T18:54:28.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Message: Daniel and Jasmine are&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;sitting alone&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;in&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;the park&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;one night....&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel: I guess we are the left overs in this&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;world&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine: I think so...All of my friends have&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;boyfriends and we are only the 2 persons left&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;in&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;this world with out any special person in our life&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel: Yup I don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine: I know! We'll play a game&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel: That's a great plan in fact i don't have&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;nothing to do much this following weeks...&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 1:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;They watch their first movie and they both&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;touched&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;in a romantic film&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 4:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;They went to the beach and have a&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;picnic...Daniel&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;and Jasmine have their quality time together&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 12:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel invited Jasmine to a circus and they ride&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;on a Horror House....Jasmine was scared and&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;she touched Daniel's hand but she touched&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;someone else's hand and they both laughed...&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 15:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;They saw a fortune teller down the road and&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;they&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;asked for their future advice and the fortune&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;teller&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;said: "My darling, Please don't waste the time&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;of&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;your life...SPend the rest of your time together&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;happily" Then tears flow out from the teller's&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;eyes&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 20:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine invited Daniel to go to the hill and they&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;saw a meteor...Jasmine mumbled something&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 28:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;They sat on the bus and because of a bumby&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;road&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine gave her first kiss to Daniel by&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;accident&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;DAY 29:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;11:37pm&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine and Daniel sat in the park where they&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;first decided to play this game...&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel: I'm tired Jasmine...Do you want any&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;drinks? I'll buy you one.. I'll just go down the&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;road&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine: Apple Juice that's all&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Daniel: Wait for me....&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;20mins later... a stranger approached Jasmine&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Stranger: Are you a friend of Daniel?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine: Why yes? What happened?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Stranger: A reckless drunken driver ran over&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;daniel and he is critical in the hospital&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;11:57pm&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;The doctor went out of the emergency room&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;he handed out an apple juice and a letter&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Doctor: We found this in daniel's pocket&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine reads the letter and it says:&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine, This past few days, i realized you are&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;really cute girl and i am really falling for&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;you..Your&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;cherish smile your everything when we played&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;this&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;game..... Before this game would end...I would&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;like&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;you to be my girl friend for the rest of my&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;life....&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;love you Jasmine....&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;Jasmine crumples the paper and shouted:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;"Daniel ! i don't want you to die... I love&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;you...Remember that night when we saw a&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;meteor, I mumbled something... I mumbled&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;that I&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;wish we would be together forever and never&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;end&lt;br /&gt;this game. Please don't leave me Daniel.... I love you! You cannot do this to me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the clock strikes 12&lt;br /&gt;Daniel's heart stop pumping&lt;br /&gt;THEN IT WAS THE 30TH DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always love your loved ones and show them&lt;br /&gt;how you feel before it is too late...You will&lt;br /&gt;never&lt;br /&gt;know when they will be gone from your&lt;br /&gt;embrace...If you were given a time to bestow petals of&lt;br /&gt;everlasting compassi0n and love to your loved ones? Today is the day....Love them while they are still here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110725508134024269?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110725508134024269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110725508134024269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110725508134024269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110725508134024269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/02/message-daniel-and-jasmine-are-sitting.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110705898803888802</id><published>2005-01-30T13:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T12:23:08.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>NPCC is trying to murder me!!! arRRRrr!!! They ran so fast.. i already cant catch my breath still mus chase them.. grrr.. hahas.. tmr mus go back to sch again...wonderin how i will score for my bio.. will pass not..haiz.. went to chingay ytr.. this is e nicest of all years =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110705898803888802?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110705898803888802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110705898803888802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110705898803888802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110705898803888802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/npcc-is-trying-to-murder-me-arrrrrr.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110637436989075634</id><published>2005-01-22T14:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T14:12:49.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yesterday wen with cat,manda,sw n wenjie to play badminton.. n neoprints.. hahas.. den went chinatown with 2 other guys from It.. wenjie went home.. all was ok until 1 shopkeeper who was e worse 1 i seen in my life.. he was sayin.. dun buy still touch touch touch.. den when we walk out he still say aiyah.. already know u all wun buy de mah.. wa lao.. this kind of ppl go MONEY also dun buy from him lor.. still sell so ex.. n talk so much.. he shld jus keep his mouth shut than go offend ppl.. SICKENING..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;den when home after VERY LONG.. went to have dinner with shiwei.. den b4 that we took neoprints again. . jhaha.. e card that type.. den we sat down for dinner.. we sat for bout 1 1/2 hrs lor.. talk talk talk bout lots of things.. i seldom talk so much de lor.. den go home le..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;later i going downstairs to collect goodie bag.. hahas.. argh.. have stomachache again..mus be drinking too much coke.. i drank dunno how many cups this few days.. grr..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tink i dun like Sim anymore.... or do i? haiz.. i also dunno.. when i c him.. my heart will melt again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110637436989075634?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110637436989075634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110637436989075634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110637436989075634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110637436989075634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/yesterday-wen-with-catmandasw-n-wenjie.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110613969193580728</id><published>2005-01-19T21:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T21:01:31.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>JusT So hAnDsOme&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/wonbin_33.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/wonbin_33.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110613969193580728?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110613969193580728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110613969193580728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613969193580728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613969193580728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/just-so-handsome.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110613961891235968</id><published>2005-01-19T21:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T21:00:18.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>mY GOSH!!!&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/WonBin23.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/WonBin23.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110613961891235968?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110613961891235968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110613961891235968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613961891235968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613961891235968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-gosh.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110613957585059815</id><published>2005-01-19T20:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T20:59:35.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>=)&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/20031017_%201.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/20031017_%201.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110613957585059815?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110613957585059815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110613957585059815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613957585059815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613957585059815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110613929303436688</id><published>2005-01-19T20:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T20:54:53.033+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'> One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl. Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert. Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose. But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird. "Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone. "Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?" "Not really." "Your favorite type, then?" "I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts." "Strange." "Yeah. Strange." "So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?" "Nah. Just passed her on the street." She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning. Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world. After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for thingytails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed. Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart. Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards. How can I approach her? What should I say? "Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?" Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman. "Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?" No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that? Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me." No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm thirty-two, and that's what growing older is all about. We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had. I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd. Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical. Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened. One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street. "This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me." "And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream." They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle. As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily? And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?" "Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do." And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west. The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully. One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank. They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love. Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty. One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew: She is the 100% perfect girl for me. He is the 100% perfect boy for me. But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd.Forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110613929303436688?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110613929303436688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110613929303436688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613929303436688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613929303436688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/one-beautiful-april-morning-on-narrow.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110613923985873979</id><published>2005-01-19T20:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T20:53:59.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wahaha.,. today went to tm with jane ang..  bought studs.. den went to library..after that.. KFC!! haha.. i was kopin her food while we talked lor.. den i guilty so give ehr a bit of $$.. which was of cuz less than wad i ate.. ("(oo)")// hahas.. friday dun need to go to sch.. YES! actually i still miss 2It.. haiz.. but is e past le.. n i miss *** too.. :'(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110613923985873979?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110613923985873979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110613923985873979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613923985873979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110613923985873979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/wahaha.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110596748471141697</id><published>2005-01-17T21:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T21:12:04.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I miss SIM so much.. u noe hu.. haiz.. feelin quite down?? yep.. haiz... n mahts i dun understand.. maybe mus haf tuition again&gt;?/ i wonder wad SIMs doin now.. n tcher changin our places.. sian.&gt;_&lt;. cant talk anymore,, must work hard this year... but i'm still online chattin. kkiex.. dun wan blog anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110596748471141697?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110596748471141697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110596748471141697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110596748471141697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110596748471141697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-miss-sim-so-much.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110544849927717069</id><published>2005-01-11T20:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T21:01:39.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just now i was feelin very happy.. now not exactly.. no more chance for me.. haiz.. but at least got some communication le.. i wonder when i can really stop this crushin feelin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just now manda me n shiwei lied to the guitar tcher..we lied that we were at the tuition centre.. n e tcher walked down.. n she saw e 3 of us so kan cheong.. packin all our books, trying to escape in time.. den she just stared at us.. u noe.. den quite guilty.. still continue lying.. say wad we GOING tuition. haven go yet.. den anyhow lie our tuition centre at tamp.. wa piang.. when shiwei said tam.. i said MAR which was supposed to be marine parade.. den manda said BER.. which was bedok.. luckily we both shut out mouths in time.. or else really die.. but i still think she noe le lah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110544849927717069?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110544849927717069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110544849927717069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110544849927717069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110544849927717069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/just-now-i-was-feelin-very-happy.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110536204211378464</id><published>2005-01-10T21:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T21:00:42.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/H/hoplessromantic/1100934274_turessweet.jpg" border="0" alt="sweet"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You like the ones that understand you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/hoplessromantic/quizzes/What%20kind%20of%20guy%20are%20you%20most%20attracted%20to%3F%20(CUTE%20anime%20pics)/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What kind of guy are you most attracted to? (CUTE anime pics)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110536204211378464?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110536204211378464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110536204211378464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110536204211378464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110536204211378464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/you-like-ones-that-understand-you.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110536160727899223</id><published>2005-01-10T20:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T20:53:27.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ytr went to renci charity event.. saw S.H.E!! Waa SO HAPPY!! i wanted to scream de.. but my mama sittin bside me.. i paiseh mah.. but i cant help it everytime i c them i will GRIN:D heehee@!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nowadays still always daydreamin bout him.. haiz.. its like.. uhh.. 1yr 4mths le.. to me is e longest 1 ever.. :&lt; | i wonder when this feelin for him will stop..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110536160727899223?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110536160727899223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110536160727899223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110536160727899223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110536160727899223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/ytr-went-to-renci-charity-event.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110490919199628267</id><published>2005-01-05T15:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T15:52:01.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>FIRST time i have constipation.. nxt time i must eat more fruits..haha.. i really spent a lot of time in e toilet doin business.. i felt like i was going to give birth&gt;_&lt; haiz.. i cant go S.H.E concert.. $$.. but luckily S.H.E going to e renci charity event ( if i'm nt wrong )  n i also going renci.. hope can c them!!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110490919199628267?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110490919199628267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110490919199628267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110490919199628267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110490919199628267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/first-time-i-have-constipation.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110464079739361570</id><published>2005-01-02T13:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T12:39:57.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The S.H.E cd/dvd combo is soooooooooooooooooooooo nice!!!! i wan to BUYY!@!!!!!@@@ but i also wan to donate to the tsunami leh.. hmm.. den i really must start to save money le.. tmr sch reopen lo.. so fast.. i am a sec 3..i will miss my lower sec frens.. even e times we quarrel. i also will never forget.. its a part of my life.. for now n ever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110464079739361570?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110464079739361570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110464079739361570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110464079739361570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110464079739361570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/wa-s.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110458603111689931</id><published>2005-01-01T21:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T21:27:11.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wo AI Ni MV&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/___Mv%20Photo1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/___Mv%20Photo1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110458603111689931?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110458603111689931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110458603111689931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110458603111689931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110458603111689931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/wo-ai-ni-mv.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110458594619068805</id><published>2005-01-01T21:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T21:25:46.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HebE!!!!!&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/hEBe%2B.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/hEBe%2B.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110458594619068805?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110458594619068805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110458594619068805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110458594619068805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110458594619068805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2005/01/hebe.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110438189109159562</id><published>2004-12-30T13:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T12:44:51.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;e  tsunami already killed about 80,000 ppl n more to come.. every1 help donate ur clothes n money or food to charities to help those in need.. hao ren you hao bao =&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope those  ppl there can find peace soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school is ging to start soon.. hope i can get better results next year..&lt;br /&gt;a new year, a new me?&lt;br /&gt;i hope i can control my temper better n be a better person!&lt;br /&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/9110963-110438189109159562?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110438189109159562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110438189109159562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110438189109159562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110438189109159562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/12/hope-those-ppl-there-can-find-peace.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110293592815444946</id><published>2004-12-13T18:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T19:05:28.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>chi xin jue dui is such a nice so0ng!! must listen o.. anyway i came to blog about e past fewdays at e chalet.. at first is with my classmates den with my cousins.. classmates de alot ppl blog also got write so i dun wanna write le.. i write about my couz.. 1st day i very sleepy.. so we just play in e chalet.. den 2nd day we went out to play cinemania.. wa.. e seat rockin so hard my head swing here swing there den my neck very suan already.. fun though.. den went to sit sky tower.. but i din sit lah.. sat b4 le.. den my aunt hor.. she very funny 1..l keep askin "u wan eat this eat that.. " at first i hungry lah.. so she bought icecream.. very ex lor.. they sell $3 for 1 leh.. den after that i full le.. den she still give kachang puteh.. fishball.. so n so.. wa.. den i feel so bloated le.. haha.. den we went back to watch super sunday.. den i fell asleep again.. haha.. after that we had dinner den watch star awards.. den hor.. at night 1 little chick ran into out chalet leh.. SoOOO cute!!!!=) den my cousin heard e chirpin sound den he went to e door to look outside ... den he look here look there but he cannot find e chick.. den actually e chick already come into e house le.. i tink went through his legs ba.. haha... den we played wif e chick lor.. let it eat.. den we bathe him/her in e basin.. very funny.. e chick keep slidin down.. den like very cold.. so we took tissue paper to wipe it.. den we set out to look for mother hen.. we saw e mother hen sittin there lor.. but we were thinkin where e other chicks were.. so we walk here walk there.. den my e other cousin sawgot heads under e mother hen.. den e heads pop out 1 by 1.. so cute lor.. but e little chick dun wanna go back de.. keep followin us.. den we mei ban fa,, we faster out e chick on e mother hen den we ran back,, den e next day we open e door den e little chick came chirpin in again leh.. so cute lor.. but den we found out that e mother chick dun wan it liao.. bcuz they were separated for too long.. but not we separate them 1 ar.. den very poor thing lor.. we going home le it still followin us here n there... like dun wan us leave it.. den my daddy faster put it far far away den we all got onto the car.. actually i wanted to bring e chick home 1.. but i tink its illegal.. den e poor chick very poor thing.. e mother dun wan it le... den still so small only.. say liao i also wanna cry le.. haiz.. so poor thing.. i really din wanted to part wif e little chick de.. so poor thing.. like orphan.. ='(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110293592815444946?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110293592815444946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110293592815444946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110293592815444946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110293592815444946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/12/chi-xin-jue-dui-is-such-nice-so0ng.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110234631707287572</id><published>2004-12-06T23:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T23:18:37.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'> There was once this guy who is very much in love with his girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his girl. Although, at that time he was just a small fry in his company, his future doesn't seem too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the both of them, so they went their own ways there and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartbroken, the guy agreed. But when he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself. Finally with all the hard work and the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company. One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn't take him long to realize they were his girl's parents. With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn't the same anymore, he had his own company, car, condo, etc. He made it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; What he saw next confused him, the couple was walking towards a cemetery, and so he got out of his car and followed and he saw his girl, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone and he saw his paper cranes right beside her. Her parents saw him. He asked them why had this happened. They explained. She did not leave for France at all. She was ill with cancer. She had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want to be his obstacle. Therefore she had chosen to leave him. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. She had wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again, he can take some of those back with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you have loved, you will always love. For what's in your mind may escape but what's in your heart will remain forever. The guy just wept. The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right besides her knowing you can't have her, see her or be with her ever again. Hope you understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obtained from - yizhen from S.H.E forum=&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very touching rite.. love this kinda story.. very meaningful.. can learn e meaning of life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110234631707287572?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110234631707287572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110234631707287572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110234631707287572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110234631707287572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/12/there-was-once-this-guy-who-is-very.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110216391134600182</id><published>2004-12-04T20:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-04T20:38:31.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i really miss him.. =(  but  i cant talk to him.. cant sms him.. even when i know is his bday, i also cant do anything.. haiz,, actually i got alot of friens who r in better state than me in love.. but they keep sayin they very tong ku.... when they come to my state den they noe wad is really sad.. listening to "waiting for u" by anson hu...sad love song.. but very nice.. i wan to sell my gameboy le.. den can buy more cds.. =)/// hmm.. i got nothing much to say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110216391134600182?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110216391134600182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110216391134600182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110216391134600182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110216391134600182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-really-miss-him.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110200154141296193</id><published>2004-12-02T23:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-02T23:32:21.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just now i went to tuition.. n guess wad.. i just finished a bowl of wonderful laksa.. which was proven to be.. when i was sittin in e class. . n e class was exceptionally quiet.. den my stomach growled n growled.. which was quite loud.. enuff for me to be very embarrased.. grr.. imagine e embarassment i had to face.. n it for like nearly all e lesson also lidat leh.. &gt;-&lt; haha.. anyway.. S.H.E rocks.. i'm busy votin for them now in e MTV awards//.. hmm.. tmr i going to sell tickets again.. hope can finish sellin.. den school holidays left 1 mth le. i wanna revise.. but i cant concentrate,, seriously i tink i cant control whehter i can daydream not.. just now during tuition i was like daydreamin for more than 1 hr.. dreamin thia n that.. my fantasy world.. no wonder my results lidat... i really wan to ask my mama buy concentration pills for me.. but i dun tink she would buy.. she never encourages me to take wad kind of supplement 1.. but cook alot of soup ar.. all this to "bu sheng"// kkz... i noe i am off e topic.. anyway... now i still online.. busy votin.. hopin S.H.E can gain back e lead again.. S.H.E RocKS^^!!～～～Yea～～～YeaY～～～YeaYHH!! I　ｎｏｅ　ｉ　ａｍ　ｃｒａｚｙ．．　ｈａｈａ．．　ｋｋｉｅｘ．．　ｎｅｘｔ　ｔｉｍｅ　ｄｅｎ　ｂｌｏｇ　ａｇａｉｎ～～ＢｕｈＢｙＥｅ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110200154141296193?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110200154141296193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110200154141296193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110200154141296193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110200154141296193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/12/just-now-i-went-to-tuition.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110190939298322791</id><published>2004-12-01T21:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T21:56:32.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>let me update bout yesterday n today..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday: watched The Incredibles! i tot it was stupid at first.. but den i was proven wrong!! it was nicer than shutter lor.. so those who haven't watch really must faster.. it was super funny lor.. n quite meaningful...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today: stayed at home.. den just now went tuition for a. maths.. wad logarithms?? i listen until blur blur.. haiz.. i really tink i learn quite slow leh.. liike tortoise.. haiz.. anyway.. i tink taufik will win!~ YeaH! S.H.E ROckS!!=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110190939298322791?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110190939298322791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110190939298322791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110190939298322791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110190939298322791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/12/let-me-update-bout-yesterday-n-today.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110173860329923724</id><published>2004-11-29T22:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T22:30:03.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ummmmmmmmmmmmm....... today went to orchard wif cat grace manda n wenjie to watch SHUTTER!! haha.. scary leh.. but not that meaningful.. den e whole theatre those ppl keep makin sound effect lor.. scary but sometimes also quite funny la.. den after that walk here walk there..waste time den went far east to take nprints.. uhh.. lidat then spent about 5+ hours le leh.. reached home at 8.. n now i votin for S.H.E for mtv asia awards.. they all n jay e percentage so close, so S.H.E is leadin by about 1+\- % only.. so help S.H.E=).. haha.. den listenin to their song also.. heehee.. k lah.. gotta go now.. BuHbYEe!=()&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110173860329923724?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110173860329923724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110173860329923724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110173860329923724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110173860329923724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/ummmmmmmmmmmmm.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110161467286678096</id><published>2004-11-28T12:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T12:04:32.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hEBe!~=)&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/hEBe%2B.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/250/hEBe%2B.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110161467286678096?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110161467286678096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110161467286678096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110161467286678096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110161467286678096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/hebe.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110154200348933914</id><published>2004-11-27T15:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-27T15:53:23.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What Ella(S.H.E) said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How’s everybody? It’s been a long time since I last posted a message This time I’ve come to explain(about the yu le bai fen bai show) I’m here to apologize for what happened the other day As a star I shouldn’t lose control of my feelings like that I’ve given everyone a very bad example I hope everyone will forgive me These few days I’ve thought over many things And I’ve understood a lot of things I now understand myself better I’m a person who is not true to herself I’ve not been true to myself And also everyone around me Because I have been running away from facing my own feelings I’ve always tried hard to cover up(for the pressure I’m facing) So that everyone thinks that I’m very healthy and fine But actually I’ve my own problems And I’ve finally managed to find myself Luckily I’ve my two good sisters by my side It was because of them and their help That I managed to find myself Because of this happening(the crying incident during yu le bai fen bai) I’ve grown to love my sisters even more And I’ve even stronger confidence in our friendship Those out there who are still suspicious of our friendship, I don’t feel like explaining anymore This world is just the way it is No matter how well you try to do things There will still be some people who suspects of you Why don’t we try not to live under other people’s thinkings and comments Be yourself I want to thank everyone Because you did not give up on me You have supported me And you have held out your hand for me This made me realize that there’s love in everyone And thank you to all those friends who care for me I will work harder I will not let anyone down I will be better And live more happily&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;YeP.. So happy She SaId ThIs.. So HoPE EvErYThIng Can TuRn OuT FiNE.. S.H.E wiLL RoCk FoRevEr!=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110154200348933914?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110154200348933914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110154200348933914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110154200348933914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110154200348933914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/what-ellas.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110139476016479444</id><published>2004-11-25T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-25T23:07:24.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wads e point of feelin sad now.. no point le.. i got over it.. hope those hu haven't can too.. anway.. nothing last forever..haiz.. MiSsInG U.. likE U even bother =(&lt;br /&gt;n my dear frien... dunno u noe i sayin u not lah.. but i jus say it..  i really tink i tried all ways to help le.. if  u dun wan to pull urself together, no1 can.. only u can control how u tink.. being rejected isnt like e end of e world mah.. dun kill ur happy cells in ur body lidat.. so.. cheer up=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110139476016479444?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110139476016479444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110139476016479444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110139476016479444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110139476016479444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/wads-e-point-of-feelin-sad-now.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110121717084324457</id><published>2004-11-23T21:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T21:39:30.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>guess u wun even visit my blog.. now i'm startin to miss u again.. like u wuld understand.. haiz.. no1 to talk to about him.. even c u also never now.. =( ... i'm lovesick again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110121717084324457?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110121717084324457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110121717084324457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110121717084324457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110121717084324457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/guess-u-wun-even-visit-my-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110110477316795105</id><published>2004-11-22T14:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T14:26:13.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>S.H.E never make up.. still very chio thou.. &lt;br /&gt;=)&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/50/s.h.e_never_make_up.2.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/200/s.h.e_never_make_up.2.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110110477316795105?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110110477316795105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110110477316795105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110110477316795105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110110477316795105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/s_110110477316795105.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110094115626378904</id><published>2004-11-20T16:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T16:59:16.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>finally back at home sweet home! =)  let me start from tues..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;went to east coast with grace n wenjie.. went swimming together at e beach.. but actually din swim.. we played truth or dare.. but all is truth 1.. talk about some secrets.. we were in e sea for so long until our hands all like old ppl 1.. very crumpled/... den went to look for e food centre.. walked for so long.. only to realise we walked towards e wrong direction.. den we rented bicycles.. or else it will take years to reach.. n that wen jie dunno how to cycle.. so we rented the 2 person kind to cycle.. n he behind clycle so fast.. n e bicycle was jerking from side to side.. so scary. like anytime will skid lidat.. den went to eat.. den go home at bout 8+... den i slept at e chalet.. and dreamt that i was being recarniated.. e feeling was very real.. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Just came back from atc.. trust me.. its NOT NICE AT ALL! super tough.. super tiring,... their punishment is so "wonderful"... make us sit so straight.. now my back so suan.. haiz.. n cant slack lidat.. walk also cant.. mus jog here jog there.. but luckily its over... or else will suffer like crazy mann... even angeline also say we treatedf like POWs.. must clean e tent sheets at their command. den every1 kneee or squat on e floor.. haha.. now finally got nice food n nice bed.. aircon.. =) heeeheee.. so happy! I finally come back liao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110094115626378904?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110094115626378904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110094115626378904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110094115626378904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110094115626378904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/finally-back-at-home-sweet-home-let-me.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110044375960955560</id><published>2004-11-14T22:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T22:49:19.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>S.H.E&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;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/50/20041104SHE02-M.2.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/280/20041104SHE02-M.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110044375960955560?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110044375960955560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110044375960955560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110044375960955560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110044375960955560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/s_110044375960955560.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110044221217363413</id><published>2004-11-14T22:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T22:23:32.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>haiz.. today everywhere muscle ache.. thanks to promotion test yesterday.. n 90% i will fail.. i took e squad to e wrong place.. today went to expo.. bought a casio keyboard.. 61 keys 1.. :D// finally can play le.. YAY!^^ tmr daddy dun need to work.. means i got chance to go out! hehe.. den tues.. hav np.. have guitar... dunno y also pong together 1 leh.. 3 times in a row le lor.. GRR.. my guitar surely lack like siao le.. still tinkin of S.H.E.. haha.. relly crazy le.. love them like siao!?! YEP! Love them more then love HIM... haha... ok la.. blog until here.. i wanna go their online community chat bout them le.. :D.. heehee.. buHbYEEE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110044221217363413?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110044221217363413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110044221217363413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110044221217363413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110044221217363413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/haiz.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110033789086827452</id><published>2004-11-13T17:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-13T17:24:50.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/320/1_198.2.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/200/1_198.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S.H.E wif specs..cute hor??:p&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/9110963-110033789086827452?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110033789086827452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110033789086827452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110033789086827452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110033789086827452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/s_110033789086827452.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110033764331968983</id><published>2004-11-13T17:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-13T17:20:43.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/320/Z%20chen%20%2B%20S.H.E.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/193/2339/320/Z%20chen%20%2B%20S.H.E.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S.H.E + Z chen&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/9110963-110033764331968983?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110033764331968983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110033764331968983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110033764331968983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110033764331968983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/s_13.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110027273384116602</id><published>2004-11-12T23:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-12T23:18:53.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just now in e noon wen out wif grace n wenjie.. met at tam interchange.. den wen to tm shop shop.. or rather talk talk?? den wen to collect grace racket.. dunno how she play 1.. e strings broke.. den wen mpcc badminton court.. to meet daniel.. woot! daniel n grace ar.. really very pei lor.. in terms of looks, character and colour.. den e actions they do like same lidat.. grace say pai seh mann.. so cute!! :p hehe.. den wen watch dance wif my mum.. really cant appreciate den i went out eith my daddy halfway.. went to geylang.. shoppin.. only shoppin... eat this eat that.. den wen home.. tmr got promotion test.. now i need to pack.. so sian.. thats y i am still awake at this time.. listenin to 933 also..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110027273384116602?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110027273384116602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110027273384116602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110027273384116602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110027273384116602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/just-now-in-e-noon-wen-out-wif-grace-n.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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-9110963.post-110017687942899858</id><published>2004-11-11T20:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T20:41:19.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After  my old blog.. i tink this gonna be my new 1 for at least.... 3 mths?? well, hope so! anyway, let me start talkin bout wad happened yesterday.. went to orchard to meet run ling at 1pm.. tried selling charity tickets.. altho not very successful.. den went to ngee ann city to eat.. den go queue up for S.H.E handshake session.. YES! A while rain.. den no more le.. but very hot... wa.. i a little sian.. den finally they played S.H.E mtv.. heEHEe.. finally bout umm.. 7++ S.H.E finally arrived le.. every1 squeezed to the front lor.. i was like sardine??? squeezed in the middle.. SO MANY people were TALLER than me.. n in e end i couldn c SHE... only see their heads poppin out of the crowd sometimes.. GRRR!!! every1 was so sweaty.. in e end i was wetten by every1's + my own sweat.. E back of my shirt was so wet.. n it was really super squeezy lor.. ever1 push push push.. n e volunteers from ambience club started pushing every1 back.. den like got waves liddat... i fell backwards.. but pressed on e person behind me.. haha.. like dominos... den S.H.E sang superstar.. hou niao ( composed by jay ) den tong kuai... finally after talk talk talk den shake hands... every1 squeezed towards e entrance.. n finally i managed to squeeze in.. went up to the stage den b4 shakin hands with them.. i faster wipe my hand first... :) Hebe was e first.. i shook her hand.. her hand was so gentle and small..n she smiled so sweetlY!!!!!!!!! oooo my gosh.. i stared at her n i tink i nearly started daydreaming.. she looked so pretty... never seen them so near b4.. n her hand so same temperature as mine.. so not hot not cold.. wa ... i nearly turned into a les!! next was selina.. she was also very chio.. n very sweet also..  n i tink she said xie xie and smile or maybe she just smiled?? i dunno lei.. too nervous.. never notice.. her hand also same temp as mine.. not hot not cold.. last was ella! She ar.. so friendly lor.. shake with both hands.. n shake as in really SHAKE!!! haha.. so cute also.. also very pretty.. but she wasnt lookin at me cuz zhiyong was interviewin her... I really like all e 3 of them lor.. as i walked down e stage.. i so happy lor.. den i kissed my hand... they touch my right hand.. now i dun really wanna wash my hands le.. n e chop writin S.H.E was still on my left hand.. :) Really so happy!! they really look nicer in real life.. they were like so pretty.. until when i lookin at them, i like in dreamland lidat...*drools* den after e handshake. e police brought them out.. when they walkin on e street,, every1 pushed towards them.. den e police pushed all of us very hard.. or else S.H.E wuld be crushed by every1...  den i was really very near them when they walked past.. all 3 of them looked down as the walked past... den their van came and off they wenT.. they went to china today.. so sad.. but i tink top fun wuld be featuring dem soon.&gt;!!YAY!! look forward to meeting them again!:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9110963-110017687942899858?l=dream-of-love.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/feeds/110017687942899858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9110963&amp;postID=110017687942899858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110017687942899858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9110963/posts/default/110017687942899858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dream-of-love.blogspot.com/2004/11/after-my-old-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>my dreamland</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14663559190273775123</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>
