<?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-4725421524869815526</id><updated>2011-12-28T05:10:15.107+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feast of Live</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;b&gt;FIR™&lt;/b&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;img src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l98/trifalls/PC261413.jpg"&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>156</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3703391246712358310</id><published>2011-12-28T05:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T05:10:08.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Stupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jKDITDCb_uE/TvovVmrGTcI/AAAAAAAAAeo/0fruKdrrzpc/s1600/Diesel_be_stupid-Momo-Galerie-Romaric-Tisserand-margherita-ratti.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="108" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jKDITDCb_uE/TvovVmrGTcI/AAAAAAAAAeo/0fruKdrrzpc/s200/Diesel_be_stupid-Momo-Galerie-Romaric-Tisserand-margherita-ratti.png" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I'm bad at is being stupid. Hell, being smart and stupid at the same time doesn't work. Not that Im saying Im a smart-ass but seriously, we all need to be stupid once in a while. Not because we are dumb, but because it is part of us to be one- Yes to be dumb! Unleashing that 'hey, who knows' attitude and all, will do wonders not just to yourself but to others as well especially in the long run. In fact, being stupid will literally makes u smarter. All you gotta do is believe in it; that you can be both- smart and stupid at the same time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well apart from that introduction about stupidity, I just wanted to say that my life has been picking up, and yes, I do still have a long way to go. Nonetheless, Im like finally understood where I stand in my life. I take pride in my work and in giving respect but most importantly is being respected. And because of that, I need a place or a working environment where respect is a major part of the job scope. And not being sexist, I need male working atmosphere; away from female gossiping and cowards backstabbers coz we all know how politically work can be when women are involved. Now, dont go telling me that the men you know are also politically, no, they are not men, they are basically little pussycats to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3703391246712358310?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3703391246712358310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3703391246712358310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-thing-im-bad-at-is-being-stupid.html' title='Be Stupid'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jKDITDCb_uE/TvovVmrGTcI/AAAAAAAAAeo/0fruKdrrzpc/s72-c/Diesel_be_stupid-Momo-Galerie-Romaric-Tisserand-margherita-ratti.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8757381341180782875</id><published>2011-09-28T05:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T05:12:41.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The T Equation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GBqXR9gbGUM/ToIohZmSGDI/AAAAAAAAAeI/mndcYHhIvpU/s1600/trust-me-im-lying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" width="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GBqXR9gbGUM/ToIohZmSGDI/AAAAAAAAAeI/mndcYHhIvpU/s200/trust-me-im-lying.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unstable formula; trust= chained to the deepest core of reality- relying of which is reliable connecting to that of the truth, honesty faded within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon a wishful lust, pretentious that of one's trust.&lt;br /&gt;But by which it does not hurt, keeping quiet fool the third. &lt;br /&gt;Delude by vague uncertainty, bring forth rage of misery.&lt;br /&gt;Alas- lie and so let it be, better of than shunned by honesty.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically, this little poem, yes, poem. i mean, i dont even know if its considered poem but what the heck right? as long as it make sense to me, its all cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Ive never really explained my words to anyone so most of the meanings are simply for me to decipher and understand rather, and to let people make up their own understanding of how the words connect to each other; somehow creating one's story via endless imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, Im just gonna explain my version of what I imagine it to be. I dont think I can literally explain every verse but I'll simply summarize it up so you'll get the picture of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically its about trust in relationship. whether telling everything is a good thing or keeping quiet about the whole deal. but then again, how fragile is trust when its not fixed, that sometimes lying makes it better than to be kept hanging on doubts. Its only 4 verse so I guess that's about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im sure we all go through this trust issue, something I believe is a matter of communication and understanding, infact, most of it are connected to communication. Anyways, I wonder, what are the actions that define trust? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one 'show' that they could be trusted? &lt;br /&gt;Taking responsibilities? &lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. if you were to ask me, I would say honesty. So how does one 'show' honesty? &lt;br /&gt;By providing evidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah. You tell me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8757381341180782875?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8757381341180782875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8757381341180782875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/09/t-equation.html' title='The T Equation'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GBqXR9gbGUM/ToIohZmSGDI/AAAAAAAAAeI/mndcYHhIvpU/s72-c/trust-me-im-lying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6102576707242909147</id><published>2011-08-09T23:07:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T23:12:41.159+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time After Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a5tj_7RLch4/TkFNgX7VzbI/AAAAAAAAAd4/KPpOvv5U9gw/s1600/254421155_ef5286c16e.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a5tj_7RLch4/TkFNgX7VzbI/AAAAAAAAAd4/KPpOvv5U9gw/s200/254421155_ef5286c16e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638873427018632626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"You still am. It's just that you prefer to put it as was."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6102576707242909147?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6102576707242909147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6102576707242909147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/08/time-after-time.html' title='&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Time After Time&lt;/div&gt;'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a5tj_7RLch4/TkFNgX7VzbI/AAAAAAAAAd4/KPpOvv5U9gw/s72-c/254421155_ef5286c16e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7842534079046444430</id><published>2011-08-05T00:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T00:24:09.785+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Te Extrano</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IhQ4YSuBavo/TjrEiMOVI6I/AAAAAAAAAdw/S7oZe4H355k/s1600/black%252Cand%252Cwhite%252Cbook%252Cheart%252Cring-cdccc2462678fe6f67eda0de79037a7f_m.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 171px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IhQ4YSuBavo/TjrEiMOVI6I/AAAAAAAAAdw/S7oZe4H355k/s200/black%252Cand%252Cwhite%252Cbook%252Cheart%252Cring-cdccc2462678fe6f67eda0de79037a7f_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637033975283524514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo siento, perdóname por favor. hablar conmigo, yo te quiero de vuelta. Por favor, dime qué hacer. Yo tenía miedo, todavía lo soy..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7842534079046444430?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7842534079046444430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7842534079046444430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/08/te-extrano.html' title='&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Te Extrano&lt;/div&gt;'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IhQ4YSuBavo/TjrEiMOVI6I/AAAAAAAAAdw/S7oZe4H355k/s72-c/black%252Cand%252Cwhite%252Cbook%252Cheart%252Cring-cdccc2462678fe6f67eda0de79037a7f_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7438232237813852360</id><published>2011-05-23T22:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T22:30:03.695+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somehow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; "&gt; "but I feel that all are the same, they end up the same way, somehow, it’s only a matter of time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;There’s only that little time that people can stand each other and contain a liking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;then, lets grant that wish, that wish that you hold on so dear. you wanted it so badly to happen, well, let it happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7438232237813852360?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7438232237813852360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7438232237813852360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/05/somehow.html' title='Somehow'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7390724957208284838</id><published>2011-05-08T04:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T00:02:14.125+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unjust</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ylHAVpYwYq0/TcWmO69d3XI/AAAAAAAAAbg/W1vUlsJBYxY/s1600/Man-Umbrella-Rain.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ylHAVpYwYq0/TcWmO69d3XI/AAAAAAAAAbg/W1vUlsJBYxY/s200/Man-Umbrella-Rain.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604068086607895922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; "&gt;just;&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; "&gt;fair: free from favoritism or self-interest or bias or deception; conforming with established standards or rules".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Just- the basic fundamental of every law, of every religion, of every human being. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Personally for me, just is what makes a human- 'civil'. No matter the situation, just defines the right from wrong according to one's perspective of what is right and what is wrong. &amp;amp; truth be told, as sinful as I am, to define just is to look at the Holy Quran. No literature is as perfect and beautiful as the Holy Quran and being an avid reader as well as having a tremendous interest in histories, I look upon the Holy Quran with great admiration especially on the fairness of God's words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;However today, I shall not put religion into place nor my faith so as to avoid diluting the meaning of just. Reading about conquerors, leaders and whole lot more, one thing that Ive learned is that you will never ever find out the truth. Facts, yes. Truth, never. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;History itself originated from one's mouth to another and it comes in all kinds of form, from rumors to gossips and even to the likes of myths and legends. Common basic fundamental in creating an understanding between one another is to talk and listen. These two simple senses are the very cores of every, I repeat, every actions that we do thereafter and to gain power is to control these senses. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;OMG! If I continue to write, Ill probably finish a freaking book. So, Im stopping here! kbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7390724957208284838?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7390724957208284838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7390724957208284838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/05/unjust.html' title='Unjust'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ylHAVpYwYq0/TcWmO69d3XI/AAAAAAAAAbg/W1vUlsJBYxY/s72-c/Man-Umbrella-Rain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-53878915792228256</id><published>2011-04-25T02:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T02:09:05.194+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-izafwdsLYzI/TbRmDpCqcjI/AAAAAAAAAbY/p-4E-t_S5Pk/s1600/3819530731_07a291ce55.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-izafwdsLYzI/TbRmDpCqcjI/AAAAAAAAAbY/p-4E-t_S5Pk/s200/3819530731_07a291ce55.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599212449471033906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I need inspiration.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I need motivation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-53878915792228256?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/53878915792228256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/53878915792228256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2011/04/out-of-peace.html' title='Out of Peace'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-izafwdsLYzI/TbRmDpCqcjI/AAAAAAAAAbY/p-4E-t_S5Pk/s72-c/3819530731_07a291ce55.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6536824229951558694</id><published>2010-12-09T01:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T02:06:31.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody Knows</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TP_DUHk5I8I/AAAAAAAAAbI/vjai37jy448/s1600/Everybody%2BKnows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TP_DUHk5I8I/AAAAAAAAAbI/vjai37jy448/s200/Everybody%2BKnows.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548368016342328258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its weird when you know that nothing is more important than your needs. Instead, all you ever want is to get what you desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, your own desires outweighs your limitations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a man is one thing, being a son is another. Being a husband is a totally different thing and being a father, thats the real deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be a time when you realized nothing is more important than the happiness of your loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what can be seen, listen what can be heard, talk while you're still able to. You will never know when it'll be the last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6536824229951558694?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6536824229951558694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6536824229951558694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/12/everybody-knows.html' title='Everybody Knows'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TP_DUHk5I8I/AAAAAAAAAbI/vjai37jy448/s72-c/Everybody%2BKnows.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6204026350669410946</id><published>2010-11-21T23:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T01:12:08.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TOlRdAdiZPI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Yrq4OtcubAM/s1600/Suicide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TOlRdAdiZPI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Yrq4OtcubAM/s200/Suicide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542050375238051058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;read what's not to read; &lt;br /&gt;ask what's not to ask; &lt;br /&gt;know what's not to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its bugging-ly low.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6204026350669410946?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6204026350669410946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6204026350669410946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/11/pissed-off.html' title='I&apos;m Not.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TOlRdAdiZPI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Yrq4OtcubAM/s72-c/Suicide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-955541339366952692</id><published>2010-11-16T06:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T06:39:19.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'>-</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TOG2SDi25iI/AAAAAAAAAaw/0p5AqLW80kw/s1600/Owl%2BStudy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TOG2SDi25iI/AAAAAAAAAaw/0p5AqLW80kw/s200/Owl%2BStudy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539909437947831842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like Ive to start studying. Its SERIOUS MODE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-955541339366952692?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/955541339366952692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/955541339366952692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title='-'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TOG2SDi25iI/AAAAAAAAAaw/0p5AqLW80kw/s72-c/Owl%2BStudy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4454456899595099278</id><published>2010-11-07T05:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T05:54:23.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TNXErIQBsrI/AAAAAAAAAao/F9BV2lboub8/s1600/Holding+Hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 149px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TNXErIQBsrI/AAAAAAAAAao/F9BV2lboub8/s200/Holding+Hands.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536547562150015666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         I want you to tell me that you see- everything you see. Tell me that you feel- everything I feel for you. Tell me that you need- everything you need. Tell me that is real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont see where I need to shop around. You're the only one I ever think about. I love the way you smile at everything and I really love the way you smile at me.&lt;br /&gt;I dont want you to be with nobody else. Im selfish I just want you for myself and I'll give you all I got- whatever you want, consider it done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever need someone to call- Ill be here and Ill listen to it all. Im certain that you're someone I should see about, think about, Be around and hold you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're everything thats right with mine. Dont like to promise but right now Im gonna try coz noone else is cool the way I think you're cool and noone else is true- baby its only you. Now we're a team and I aint letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/.F&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4454456899595099278?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4454456899595099278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4454456899595099278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-want-you.html' title='I Want You'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TNXErIQBsrI/AAAAAAAAAao/F9BV2lboub8/s72-c/Holding+Hands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2574478575251590750</id><published>2010-10-26T01:13:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T05:02:34.744+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TMXAKQkI2wI/AAAAAAAAAag/2EIMd0JHTvc/s1600/Giving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 175px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TMXAKQkI2wI/AAAAAAAAAag/2EIMd0JHTvc/s200/Giving.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532038999772289794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giving back can be very good for you, for us all. Though I wonder, why? Issit because its humane to do so? Or maybe, coz when we give back we receive something in return hence you know- karma? Perhaps its simply the right thing to do?  I mean from the way I see it, theres plenty of ways to look upon them. So which way is yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, I wanna give back as much as possible but when I think about it, what will be left of me? I dont wish to ask for anything in return though I am selfish. I mean, one has to help themselves before helping others. But then again, the tiniest bit of help does make a different. So how can we have that conscious of doing both without ourselves being overlooked?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont really have the answer, but I did came to a conclusion. Help whenever you can, though help yourself first. Oh wells, my constant reminder that I should appreciate my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2574478575251590750?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2574478575251590750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2574478575251590750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-free.html' title='Giving Back'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TMXAKQkI2wI/AAAAAAAAAag/2EIMd0JHTvc/s72-c/Giving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7894968396820523900</id><published>2010-10-11T01:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T03:14:23.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lie to Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TLH8kwfdTRI/AAAAAAAAAaY/S8nmRsoH6oo/s1600/Relationship.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TLH8kwfdTRI/AAAAAAAAAaY/S8nmRsoH6oo/s200/Relationship.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526475926182645010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lies. It hurts.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so bad that you feel like slapping yourself for being stupid; for being lied to. Not once, or twice but countless of times. So many times you were made a fool.&lt;br /&gt;Then my friend, do slap yourself. &lt;br /&gt;Slap yourself as hard as possible coz the truth is, you asked for it.&lt;br /&gt;The truth, yes, it hurts. &lt;br /&gt;It hurts achingly sometimes you wish it was just a lie.&lt;br /&gt;Wait, isnt that hypocrisy? Yes, matter-of-factly. And no, its not something to deny or ashame of, its human nature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as we want to avoid being such one, we are. Same goes to every little thing- every little characteristic there is out there. Be it nice, sincere, sarcastic, egoistic, love, hate, jealousy. You name it. We are all of that. We are humans, bound with emotions and principles and so much more. The only difference is the degree, that limit-ness, of which we are to a certain extent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do we still feel that unbearable pain when we subconsciously knew that we arent that different?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all comes down to expectations- our wants and our needs. Be it individually or others. Yes, it does sound like an everyday routine and yet its the most intricate part of us, our system of thoughts and desires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countless of times have we heard of people saying- dont make decisions when youre angry, its always honey and sweets when youre happy, or dont let emotions take control. Then why do we keep repeating the same mistakes, over and over again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply to say, feelings- are the colors of our lives. To feel is the greatest gift to have. So my friend, be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be prepared for your expectations. &lt;br /&gt;Be prepared for the pain and agony. &lt;br /&gt;Be prepared for the euphorias. &lt;br /&gt;And lastly, be prepared to slap yourself if all else fail coz in the end, it all comes down to you, just YOU, and noone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7894968396820523900?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7894968396820523900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7894968396820523900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/10/lie-to-me.html' title='Lie to Me'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TLH8kwfdTRI/AAAAAAAAAaY/S8nmRsoH6oo/s72-c/Relationship.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6156982279162637311</id><published>2010-10-02T05:13:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T16:44:38.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing Something</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TKZPr0RoH4I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/rWYGLlBq3qI/s1600/Focus.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TKZPr0RoH4I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/rWYGLlBq3qI/s200/Focus.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523189607202037634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;My Personal List (NEEDS)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Class 3&lt;br /&gt;- Home Improvement&lt;br /&gt;- Savings&lt;br /&gt;- Contributions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh. My savings are being drain. A slow death I tell ya. K, that aside. I have to start driving or else Ill lose out. Gotta keep on top of the game. At the same time, I need to feel comfortable. For 12 years, Ive been living on an empty house of which I reside in the name of home. Need to refurnish every god damn thing. I just hate the floor! What was my parents thinking when they did them?? Honestly, sucky interior design. Next is savings. Rainy rainy days. Bad bad situation. Need to stay alive. Be independent, stop depending. Finally, the contributions. I love my grandma too much and to do nothing about it is unbearable. $100 for mom, $100 for grandma. Mom's gonna be so mad. Thankfully my sister is a good contributor. Oh, need to discuss with her bout money issues. Right now, shes like taking care of the family instead of me. Cant have that. Im her brother and Im way behind her. Its time she became the little one and Ill be taking over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, all this will only happen if I get that MBS job with atleast $1.7k or more payslip. If not I have to sacrifice my wants especially the fitness part. Need to do OT means less personal time. Shit. What if I dont get the job? Oh boy... k tkpe. tido it over..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6156982279162637311?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6156982279162637311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6156982279162637311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/10/doing-something.html' title='Doing Something'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TKZPr0RoH4I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/rWYGLlBq3qI/s72-c/Focus.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-123432239315208384</id><published>2010-09-23T00:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T05:12:26.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Switch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TKZOpNmqjeI/AAAAAAAAAaI/t5D5nZYS2t8/s1600/The+Switch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 136px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TKZOpNmqjeI/AAAAAAAAAaI/t5D5nZYS2t8/s200/The+Switch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523188462949928418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at us: running around, always rushed, always late - I guess that's why they call it the Human Race. What we crave for most in this world is Connection. For some people it happens at first sight, it's when you know, you know. It's fate working its magic and that's great for them. They get to live a Pop song, ride the express train but that's not the way it really works. For the rest of us, it's a bit less romantic, it's complicated, it's messy, it's about horrible timing and fumbled opportunities and not being able to say what you need to say when you need to say it - at least that's the way it was for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But sometimes it slows down just enough for all the pieces to fall into place, Fate works its magic and you are connected. Every once in a while, in all the randomness - something unexpected happens and it pushes us all forward and the truth is - what I'm starting to think, what I'm starting to feel is that maybe the human race isn't a Race at all."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-123432239315208384?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/123432239315208384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/123432239315208384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/09/switch.html' title='The Switch'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TKZOpNmqjeI/AAAAAAAAAaI/t5D5nZYS2t8/s72-c/The+Switch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8585189378855452965</id><published>2010-09-19T06:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T07:28:16.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'>He says, She says</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TJU3ZsWZgSI/AAAAAAAAAaA/H4l92rYIE6w/s1600/Prison+Bars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 155px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TJU3ZsWZgSI/AAAAAAAAAaA/H4l92rYIE6w/s200/Prison+Bars.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518377832953774370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man's greatest obsession- Power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've heard it all before and everybody knows; that power can build and destroy nations, countries and most of all, lives. Yes, it occurs in large quantities of individuals and within that individual lies one, a leader among all then followed through and so for and so on. A pyramid system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats how we humans have been cultivated and apparently without knowing (or knowingly), thats how we run our daily lives if we are talking in a microscopic point of view, that is. Im not saying there is something wrong with the system, but what Im getting to is that people tend to 'abuse' the system or worst, god knows whatla. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, dont worry, today Im not going to that extend you know, political agenda and all that, just something closer to us. Something that we can see/notice/observe a growing trend among youngsters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, with power comes respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, many people dont realised this, or maybe they forget, I dont know, is that respect has got nothing to do with power as in respect wont get you power/doesnt produce power- Im not sure how to form the sentence but I do hope you get my drift. Another way to put it is that, power is instill or given; not because you respect me, so now you have the power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kk. For a vivid/clearer picture. Lets put it in a point form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Father - The head of the family, have the power/authority over his family and so he shall always be respected by them and he shall too respect them. He too is considered an elder (with age) among his community for his responsibilities over his family, thus deserve the respect and he shall too have that respect for others, however he has no power/authority over them. He is a technician in his line of job and so he has no power/authority over his colleagues but he deserve that respect for being an elder and he shall too respect them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that example, as you can see, power is given through status and such and not through respect but these days, youngsters are just too ignorant or maybe just plain biatch. They kept thinking that if they are respected, they will then gain power over others but what rightful power do they have if they have nothing but their attitude? They disrespect just because they were dissed yet they demand that respect as though they have the right. Respect is just a mutual reciprocating of gratitude and understanding between one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. funny, I wanted to talk about restriction (hence the picture) how the hell did I get to this? Hah. Yea, tell me bout it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8585189378855452965?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8585189378855452965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8585189378855452965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/09/he-says-she-says.html' title='He says, She says'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TJU3ZsWZgSI/AAAAAAAAAaA/H4l92rYIE6w/s72-c/Prison+Bars.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8297760733097534941</id><published>2010-09-16T02:05:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T14:58:28.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem Hari Raya</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TJFFO2ug_aI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/dXZSrVjExH4/s1600/Hari+Raya.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 175px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TJFFO2ug_aI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/dXZSrVjExH4/s200/Hari+Raya.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517267140016668066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Rainbows define the morning skies,&lt;br /&gt;In colorful kurung not suit or ties.&lt;br /&gt;From red to black to ever white;&lt;br /&gt;Yet every color- is a lovely sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Families gather to smile and rejoice;&lt;br /&gt;To forgive and forget the tears and lies.&lt;br /&gt;&amp; laughing and eating kuih of their choice,&lt;br /&gt;While building rapport, of kinship and ties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the blinding shadow falls slowly,&lt;br /&gt;The ruckus of joy diminish gradually.&lt;br /&gt;Pleasures of company turned into stories,&lt;br /&gt;&amp; these stories became memories.&lt;br /&gt;Memories of which we shall cherish,&lt;br /&gt;Everlastingly til the day we- perish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8297760733097534941?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8297760733097534941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8297760733097534941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/09/wonderful-day.html' title='Poem Hari Raya'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TJFFO2ug_aI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/dXZSrVjExH4/s72-c/Hari+Raya.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5419326804106640474</id><published>2010-08-25T12:38:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T13:02:44.442+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Accidental In Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/THSj2aU53nI/AAAAAAAAAZU/2CuBz5nXjcI/s1600/More.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 80px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/THSj2aU53nI/AAAAAAAAAZU/2CuBz5nXjcI/s200/More.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509208399356223090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Im sick.&lt;br /&gt;Im a freak.&lt;br /&gt;Im addicted.&lt;br /&gt;Im a mess.&lt;br /&gt;Im obsessed.&lt;br /&gt;Rampantly crazed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive turned selfish.&lt;br /&gt;Turned a blind eye.&lt;br /&gt;To everything nice.&lt;br /&gt;Rolling like a dice.&lt;br /&gt;Gambling away my ties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im in love.&lt;br /&gt;Accidentally.&lt;br /&gt;For what its worth.&lt;br /&gt;Undoubtedly folly.&lt;br /&gt;To what we call money.&lt;br /&gt;For I call baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5419326804106640474?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5419326804106640474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5419326804106640474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/08/accidental-in-love.html' title='Accidental In Love'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/THSj2aU53nI/AAAAAAAAAZU/2CuBz5nXjcI/s72-c/More.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6274088494867783743</id><published>2010-07-01T10:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T11:01:58.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>17 Minutes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TCwEanezeTI/AAAAAAAAAZM/UQGqfAEBYjc/s1600/Bodyguard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TCwEanezeTI/AAAAAAAAAZM/UQGqfAEBYjc/s200/Bodyguard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488766901179087154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been 17 minutes since my life started over without you. So Ive decided, the journey Im taking. Against all odds. Let it be, my beginning and my end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6274088494867783743?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6274088494867783743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6274088494867783743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/07/so.html' title='17 Minutes'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TCwEanezeTI/AAAAAAAAAZM/UQGqfAEBYjc/s72-c/Bodyguard.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4168756008070258193</id><published>2010-06-23T10:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T10:06:57.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Are Fir</title><content type='html'>There was a time when people said&lt;br /&gt;That Firdaus won't make it&lt;br /&gt;But He did&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when troubles&lt;br /&gt;Seemed too much for me to take&lt;br /&gt;But I did&lt;br /&gt;I built a career&lt;br /&gt;strong and free&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out hereafter&lt;br /&gt;For peace and more money&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4168756008070258193?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4168756008070258193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4168756008070258193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-are-fir.html' title='I Are Fir'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2781363572520366909</id><published>2010-05-30T04:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T05:12:06.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TAF9bAZINVI/AAAAAAAAAZE/H-Q1u06BTs4/s1600/Beautiful+Monster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 136px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TAF9bAZINVI/AAAAAAAAAZE/H-Q1u06BTs4/s200/Beautiful+Monster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476796524774569298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont mind. Really. Even if Im the one who suffers. Even if I feel stupid. Or even if I hate myself for letting it get to me- But I dont mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine told me, you could start by changing yourself or your image and Im actually speechless. Ive been waiting for someone to tell me straight to my face and Im glad it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a headache if I keep not minding the things that happen to me especially social wise. But I really dont. I need to start minding though. But if I do, then what's left of me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive always lived by protocols and not the intended desires, I wish I could. Yes, I actually can. Though, the question is, do I want to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe what Ive been doing is/has been destructive but I just want to have that believe that one day, Ill step into a greener place. Call me stupid, call me dumb, maybe I am, but patience is a virtue and I really dont mind waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2781363572520366909?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2781363572520366909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2781363572520366909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/05/beautiful-monster.html' title='Beautiful Monster'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/TAF9bAZINVI/AAAAAAAAAZE/H-Q1u06BTs4/s72-c/Beautiful+Monster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7250375313974729408</id><published>2010-05-22T16:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T07:27:11.205+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigh.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S_eczz0Tm9I/AAAAAAAAAY8/syuq6Q6xrEc/s1600/Help.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 115px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S_eczz0Tm9I/AAAAAAAAAY8/syuq6Q6xrEc/s200/Help.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474016285988985810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I feel like a stupid kid asking for help. Coz I know, noones gonna help me. Its human nature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issit luck or issit just my fate that Ive to go through this phase? All I know is that money is everything. It can buy you love, it can buy you friends. It can even buy your baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life, a cruel little game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDITED. (23/5/2010)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im telling you. In this era of life, money is certainly everything. No matter how much you try to deny, deep inside you know its true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're saying that money can't buy happiness, then tell me, if you get a present that you so desire-ly wish for, are you not happy? Ok put that so desire-ly wish for aside, just imagine its any kind of present, still, are you not happy to get one? Yes right? But where do you think that gift came from? Santa? Drop from heaven issit? Money deh money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I wanted to detail it out further but its already 7 in the morning. So yea, if you disagree with me about money can buy happiness, then you're probably stable or just rich. Either way, it still involves money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh about the love thing, you see, to fall in love, you need to know each other, to know each other you need to 'spend' time together- there you go, spend. See, you still need money! Anyways, love is another whole dimension itself but if you break it down the-what-is-love-thing, you will find that the basic fundamental stays the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, nuf said. Im tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7250375313974729408?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7250375313974729408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7250375313974729408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/05/sigh.html' title='Sigh.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S_eczz0Tm9I/AAAAAAAAAY8/syuq6Q6xrEc/s72-c/Help.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3160322201471188862</id><published>2010-04-27T11:04:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T02:51:46.788+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Became A Stranger-</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S9Zh4kZiSLI/AAAAAAAAAY0/ZHnv28RNCTA/s1600/Baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 139px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S9Zh4kZiSLI/AAAAAAAAAY0/ZHnv28RNCTA/s200/Baby.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464662822332025010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- to my own family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom cried alot when I was a kid. Well, thats what I picture her in most of my memories. Holding up her tears and giving me that broken smile of hers- You know where a mom assures her son that everything was alright kinda smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was mostly in my own world and when my sister was born, she became my play thing. Thats when I learned my observation skills! I stared at her, for hours, sometimes during the day, sometimes in the middle of the night- amused at how fragile she was. Her delicate skin, that tiny little eyes, her occasional cries. Had me wondering, did I cry alot when I was tiny as her? Hehh. Well, thats a different story all together. Thats the prequel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I used to hangout in that small cradle of hers. It was mine to begin with, so it didnt take me long to adjust myself with her in it. Small as it was, I felt comfortable huddling with a blanket on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years flew by. Mom cried more than usual. Me being totally useless, could only watch and listen. I never was a loud kid, keeping to myself was the only thing I remembered doing. Even to my newborn sister, all I did was smile at her while speaking in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea when I say kid, I meant 2-5 years of age. Beyond that I believe people treated me like a partially semi-adult. Meh. Not that Im blaming them, but that was how it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be afraid of my nenek. Visiting her was always during the night so it kinda gave me this dark scary impression of her. Her place was always full of people, that didnt help much but its not just people. Cats. They were everywhere. Every corner of the house. Scary as she was, she was indeed a catwoman. Those cats, they were my friends, my companion, my solitary getaway away from the crowd and noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Im at home, my toys were those cats. It brings me joy to give life to them. I remembered how lifeless it used to be- those toys I meant before my cousin arrived into my picture and magically gave life to anything lifeless. He created names. He created characters. Finally he created stories. I was always amazed and entertained by his actions. Hmm. Again thats another episode of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom slowly drifted away. At the age of 5, going to school 3km away, by bus, alone, was never fun. I tell ya, I remembered a vivid image of a girl- she was my classmate. Holding her mom's hand looking at me. Smiled. I smiled. Closed my eyes. Then it hit me. Im all- alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea. I know. Apparently, Im stuck. I cant get over my childhood..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3160322201471188862?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3160322201471188862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3160322201471188862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-i-became-stranger.html' title='How I Became A Stranger-'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S9Zh4kZiSLI/AAAAAAAAAY0/ZHnv28RNCTA/s72-c/Baby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-185358854633209632</id><published>2010-04-20T18:07:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:21:02.402+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ill Run</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S819MWj5OYI/AAAAAAAAAYs/0yB73Wmc4SA/s1600/Running.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S819MWj5OYI/AAAAAAAAAYs/0yB73Wmc4SA/s200/Running.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462159574238312834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"The day I begin to run, was the day I started walking." - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Anonymous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yea, if running was my hobby Ill probably say that to you. But no, I'm just another guy dreaming of being fast. Yea, a dream that went by me faster than I could say - Hey! What a wonderful time of day~ where you can learn to work and play~ da da dadada da.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ala you know, the theme song from Arthur? That nerdy yellow animal with spec? No? K nvm that. Infact, I dont even know what kind of animal Arthur is but boy I sure do love the cartoons. KK. Back to the story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDITED.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-185358854633209632?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/185358854633209632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/185358854633209632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-i-begin-to-run-was-day-i-start.html' title='Ill Run'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S819MWj5OYI/AAAAAAAAAYs/0yB73Wmc4SA/s72-c/Running.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5244309923172039697</id><published>2010-04-06T11:17:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T18:24:35.252+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Agenda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S7q7o8IxH5I/AAAAAAAAAYU/defFXdjomAI/s1600/Me+%26+Mom.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 161px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S7q7o8IxH5I/AAAAAAAAAYU/defFXdjomAI/s200/Me+%26+Mom.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456880210524839826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child, I grew up playing mind games of my own. Always in my small tiny world of questions and answers; logics, miracles, magics and dreams, realism, etc. I mean as a kid we questioned the things that looked ridiculed or strange to us, with our own eyes, and yet given answers based on someone else eyes for example our parents. For we know nothing. Simply nodding either in agreement or not and joy by, happily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ok, heres a little story of how I grew up and have all this freaking theories up in my brains. I would like to say this is a random post but last night, I had a fire call and the incident site brought back memories. In a way it triggered all those sweet fluffy moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I questioned my mom was probably when I was 3-4 years of age. I remembered watching this Arabian show when suddenly God appeared and talk to His people. Trust me, I was like fucking surprised! I was like- "IBU! I SAW GOD!" not exactly in English but yea you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well actually, I was more frustrated than surprised coz Mom told me that God has no face nor form, but now Im looking at one and somemore Hes on air! (TV was definitely full of magic u know for us kids) So yea u can imagine how angry I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whom should I believe in?? The ever magical TV? or Mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to the kitchen, apparently she was too busy to hear me howling like a wolf the first time round so I pulled her out and told her that I saw God. She paused; confused. Yes I could definitely tell that from her face. Especially her confused face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(So heres what I said - IBU! I SAW THIS MAN TALKING TO PEOPLE THEN SUDDENLY HE BECOME THE SKY AND GIVE OUT LIGHTING THEN ALL DIE! IBU! I SAW GOD!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And instead of believing me she gave me this one weird doubtful look on her face, and kept asking me, are u sure? are u very sure?? oh boy, i tell ya, that sure made me mad! All I wanted to do was prove her wrong. haha.. riiight..  -.-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways she stood her stand, and I stood mine. but being a 4 year old, i know nuts so finally I was 'convinced' by my mom and I 'pretend' I bought it. Keeping my agenda hidden while I search for the truth on my own. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well in the end, after 4-5 years later, going through much of religious lessons, I finally found the truth. Bleargh. God can never show Himself a face what more appear on TV in a freaking arab show. What was I thinking?? And the f--ked up thing, I couldnt even understand arabic back then!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GAH!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5244309923172039697?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5244309923172039697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5244309923172039697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-first-agenda.html' title='My First Agenda'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S7q7o8IxH5I/AAAAAAAAAYU/defFXdjomAI/s72-c/Me+%26+Mom.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6378296578416293577</id><published>2010-03-19T22:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T23:50:08.528+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Relinquish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Ive grown to hate my desires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;From weakly temptations to seductresses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So much for lust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ive learnt to hold my peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Of pleasing others against mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Idiocy of being kind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ive gain a foothold in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Building sandcastles by the waves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Endured and prevailed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Alas, I relinquish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Treasures of which I bear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Beyond the depth of despair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6378296578416293577?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6378296578416293577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6378296578416293577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/03/relinquish.html' title='Relinquish'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2290511237284046309</id><published>2010-03-08T22:08:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T20:20:19.328+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Darnest</title><content type='html'>Theres always a kid in us. Be it 15 or 50, we all were once a kid. How we turned out today were largely due to our childhood experience but what we are today has always been us. Our decisions, our mistakes, we made em'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding parents is never easy neither do we but til the day we become one ourselves, we realised how precious it is, or most part- scary, to raise a child. The things they are going through or what we've been through will always entwine itself no matter how much we disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S5UcMOLgRuI/AAAAAAAAAYE/p4hPOxwGv0U/s1600-h/Little+Rascal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 120px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S5UcMOLgRuI/AAAAAAAAAYE/p4hPOxwGv0U/s200/Little+Rascal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446290320664839906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, Im not thinking of having kids, ffs, im not even married. Its just a passing thoughtla, ok maybe passing is not the right word, but it is still a thought- a disturbing one I might say. Not as disturbing as you thinkla but have u not ask yourself how your kids might turn out to be? Do you want em to go through what youve been through? Or do you want em to have a better life, better opportunity, you know, to make sure they have the best of everything. cheh. mcm phm gitulo. heheh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, does giving them everything make em a better person? A guidance may be the best deal but it is still an act of restriction coz being a kid ourself, we know that the best experience is experiencing firsthand- hence the rebel. though how many have we seen, perished, castout, neglected and confused in the way they were dealt. Our friends, our enemies, for the things they did, the cruelty of mankind. Yet in such state, ingenuity emerged and brought us to where we are today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok seriously, I dont know how I came to this but- gah. :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2290511237284046309?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2290511237284046309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2290511237284046309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/03/darnest.html' title='Darnest'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S5UcMOLgRuI/AAAAAAAAAYE/p4hPOxwGv0U/s72-c/Little+Rascal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6284148478020630457</id><published>2010-02-23T11:33:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T02:27:44.397+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pika's 21st</title><content type='html'>Dear lovely Pika,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive been meaning to write this but was down with bad sickness. Now here I am, again, well and not-so fit, finishing it up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasnt able to say all this out loud but I just want you to know (indirectly) that you'll always be adored, not because of your beauty but of your personality. I mean, we all have flaws but let us all, remember, each of us, not through our weakness but our strength. My words may not hold a candle to anything but it is from within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syafiqah, the girl with that elusive humbleness, yet always being misjudged. A pity I say but beauty comes with a price, though Im glad to say that she handled it well and right. Thats what I like about her the most. shes not a laser freaking bitch. Aside from that, her presence always bring smiles upon us coz then everyone will prey on her. Furthermore her kindness is a big welcome. Easy said, her personality depicts a guy in a womanly way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well whatever it is, let me finish this with a little personal touch. Wherever or whenever it may be, Ill always be here! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Im just writing this down as a momento/reminder so that if i ever die before i wake, least my thoughts stays forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNVJ5LdJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/xmws848U1qg/s1600-h/Fiqah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNVJ5LdJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/xmws848U1qg/s200/Fiqah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441277800622027922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNVqpZraI/AAAAAAAAAX8/6LUKDQTvuYY/s1600-h/Zahid+%26+Adi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNVqpZraI/AAAAAAAAAX8/6LUKDQTvuYY/s200/Zahid+%26+Adi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441277809414221218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNU34qlSI/AAAAAAAAAXs/DVLj2lh-plM/s1600-h/Asri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNU34qlSI/AAAAAAAAAXs/DVLj2lh-plM/s200/Asri.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441277795788035362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNUk4ZS2I/AAAAAAAAAXk/pzMrfxN6gEE/s1600-h/Fiqah+%26+Zahid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNUk4ZS2I/AAAAAAAAAXk/pzMrfxN6gEE/s200/Fiqah+%26+Zahid.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441277790686628706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6284148478020630457?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6284148478020630457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6284148478020630457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/02/pikas-21st.html' title='Pika&apos;s 21st'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/S4NNVJ5LdJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/xmws848U1qg/s72-c/Fiqah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-313674175375940323</id><published>2010-02-12T18:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T02:24:50.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skint</title><content type='html'>So pays in and now its out again. Haha.. Ive been living on simplicity and lone time for quite sometime now. I mean, its not 2003 anymore where going out is just about going out coz like it or not, we are all in this rat race together and money is like everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I hate to categorize myself as a money-minded guy coz I just love to live a free slacking life and care less of money (pardon my taurusness) but how could I fend myself against the law of physics?? haha. ok maybe not law of physics-technically-speaking, but in this modern world of ours, even shitting cost money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crude fact is, money is a major issue for everyone and those who disagree are the ones with money, even so, the rich are getting richer.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Gah. Im sorry. I need to stop talking about money but yea Ive been in a tight spot far too long. When things stays the same, its like a repeat telecast, that kinda feeling but yea, do bare with me a lil. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-313674175375940323?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/313674175375940323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/313674175375940323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/02/picked-up.html' title='Skint'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8264832199507084143</id><published>2010-02-08T12:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T13:23:21.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean Machine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You know how I always believe in gratitude over all else. Well I still am- just a little bit twisted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe some, or perhaps most, have notice that there's a little different in Fir of yesteryears and Fir now but like I said, I am still who I am. We are who we are, its just that its either we realised it or we dont as in- the things we do that potrays our characteristic and so on and so for. Well, you get my idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways its weird that, my friend who has an eye for detail, (yes I felt weird) saw how mean I look now than I was before eventhough I literally looked the same. So I ask him, what made him say such a thing and he responded with simplicity- 'you look fierce like you dont give a fuck anymore'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my friend, spot on. I wish I could deny such claims but how could I when I too feel that way. I feel like I wanna give a fuck but I just cant give a flying fuck. I think this bad vibe are all due to NS. Ok, whateverla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh another thing is that its weird how people do nice and they show it. I dont buy that kind of stuff I mean unless you sincerely do it out of good will but half of em who does that kind of shit, doesnt really mean it. Im not sure where Im going with this but I do know that sincerity and honesty are small and discreet packages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: email acknowledged. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8264832199507084143?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8264832199507084143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8264832199507084143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/02/mean-machine.html' title='Mean Machine'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5533719958784868697</id><published>2010-02-05T22:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T22:54:16.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alalatamplong.</title><content type='html'>ok this is random, as in random random. I mean like seriously, everything is unpredictably random, even if u feel and think its predictable its still random. Ok im just messing with my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i was watching suria's celebration thinggy on tv and wow, trend IS catching up real fast and boy, i think im impressed. trust me, im not one easily impressed but yea i was- well technically. but still, the dressing the music and especially the dancing. haha. actually the dance was what captivate me the most. the ones with taufiq in black n white thinggy. its just that how it was done, was smooth, its like being integrated with the music as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok. im having trouble thinking straight due to some avacado fruit juice circulating in my stomach. later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5533719958784868697?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5533719958784868697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5533719958784868697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/02/alalatamplong.html' title='Alalatamplong.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2840006777032575773</id><published>2010-01-27T20:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T20:32:55.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask Me.</title><content type='html'>When youre down and out, all you think is getting back up again. I wanna change that. Instead make full use of my time while laying down low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So people, digress me with topics or questions so I can liberate my thinking to something positive or perhaps into something useful. Ive been such a negative influence to myself and those around me and I seriously could use some out of this world thoughts or views.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, apart from that. I have been indulging myself in movies, anime, games just to kill time. Yes, it does help, but I could definitely use more activities. Gym was part of my curricular, well atleast before the accident and books was so close to me before. I wonder why I stop. Maybe I need something to spice up my life. An interest by others for others as in invite me to your interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont really know what Im writing, but hopefully thatll give everyone a piece of my mind. Appreciated much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2840006777032575773?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2840006777032575773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2840006777032575773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/01/ask-me.html' title='Ask Me.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7016074699210075961</id><published>2010-01-24T15:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T15:20:21.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Momok.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"gentle and warm, something that attracts the others. i like a soul that does its best to live, no matter what the situation."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7016074699210075961?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7016074699210075961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7016074699210075961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/01/momok.html' title='Momok.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2001904430961736283</id><published>2010-01-13T22:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T22:27:27.565+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crumbled.</title><content type='html'>Financially down + Physically weak + Emotionally unstable = FUCKED UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst has yet to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find a solution. The only solution is time. Blogging aint gonna solve anything. Just need to piss it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, alas a smile is still a smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2001904430961736283?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2001904430961736283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2001904430961736283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/01/crumbled.html' title='Crumbled.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4284734874864189085</id><published>2010-01-01T07:55:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:23:39.297+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year 2010!</title><content type='html'>My very first post for 2010. yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I love about morning is the atmosphere. Birds chirping, people doing their routine- jogging, etc. The feeling of freshness accompanied by a little bit of laziness and especially the morning breeze gently caressing your face; you know, that moment where everything slowly coming alive- Reborn in a way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that I kept doing morning stroll after a hard night of partying or whatever crap. That 'FISH'-ing demoralizing feeling of having to return home after sunrise. Adapting your eyes to the rays of light while your hangover/sleepy brain being fried/radiated by the morning heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, its an ass I tell ya but it did do me good coz Ill be putting my thinking cap on. Not that I want to, it just happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, have you ever noticed that when you're angry, be it by others or to others, when you think about apology, you'll automatically ask yourself 1001 questions, Ok maybe thats a little too much but there will definitely be atleast a split second or moments where it crossed your mind whether to seek or forgive and so on. However, whatever outcome it may be, you are always given a choice, I mean not just this, but life itself for we are our own writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, the most important thing is to always forgive ourselves. God Himself is ever merciful and most forgiving; so shall we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;".. Im really sorry for beating myself so hard that I didnt give myself a chance to recover.. I deserve to be treated better, not by you but by me.."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4284734874864189085?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4284734874864189085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4284734874864189085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year-people.html' title='Happy New Year 2010!'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1099346555702264779</id><published>2009-12-13T22:43:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T23:46:39.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Truly Hate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;In fear I hold&lt;br /&gt;These shattered memories&lt;br /&gt;Of which you stole&lt;br /&gt;What's left of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked upon&lt;br /&gt;Those words you speak&lt;br /&gt;None was ever true&lt;br /&gt;Neither were you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What lies ahead&lt;br /&gt;Is simply vague&lt;br /&gt;But for now&lt;br /&gt;You're everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly HATE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1099346555702264779?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1099346555702264779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1099346555702264779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-truly-hate.html' title='I Truly Hate'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7615229821939581334</id><published>2009-12-05T00:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T13:27:11.503+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MEN are pigs.</title><content type='html'>And so is everyone else. C'mon, dont give me that all men are jerks or pigs; this and that. Women are not so innocent themselves. When it comes to equality, they are the first to stand tall - high and mighty but when it comes to cheats/adultery/flirting, they blame it all on the guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. I am a guy, but before anyone starts defending themselves do take note that Im not on any sides. I just want to point out that a problem isnt a problem without acknowledgement of two. In other words, it takes me and you to create a problem. If its just one party, then it is simply an action. Right or wrong or how you see it, is your own perception. To make it simpler, everything happens for/with a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know why, but after reading an article on the new paper saying that all men are pigs, I just feel that its too biased. I mean if its simply men without specifying traits, I would just let it slide but it was added that - "if 'good' men themselves cheat... and so on" (it was written something like that). Gah. Thats just not right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I dont think anyone is a saint nor a devil neither are they good or bad. Its simply a matter of how far these traits go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont really know where Im going with this. &lt;br /&gt;Im just so pissed off. &lt;br /&gt;Pissed off at so many things that all is lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7615229821939581334?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7615229821939581334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7615229821939581334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/12/men-are-pigs.html' title='MEN are pigs.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-995776367570478710</id><published>2009-09-14T10:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T10:44:18.826+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Next year.</title><content type='html'>Ill update next year. later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-995776367570478710?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/995776367570478710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/995776367570478710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/next-year.html' title='Next year.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7138978231393722716</id><published>2009-09-14T10:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T10:30:57.922+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shit</title><content type='html'>Shit. Im getting lame day by day. Be back when I feel the need to. bye :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7138978231393722716?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7138978231393722716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7138978231393722716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/shit.html' title='Shit'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5910633659052840314</id><published>2009-09-12T09:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T09:33:05.314+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Down</title><content type='html'>Cant wait for puasa to be over. I need to start carboh feeding myself. even mom notice how skinny i am. from 62 down to 55. thats alot. I dont know if i can manage to gain those 7kgs back. need to. and have to. im 22 yet people claimed i look 18 to 20. not that im complaining bout looking younger but, its my desire to have a fit body. its not about being vain, its about looking good to feel good. im a taurus, i like all those nice little things that made me feel comfortable. besides its always a good thing for everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so if u think looking good is something not to bother about, than my friend, you need to appreciate beauty more and especially urself. love yourself, coz believe me, noone will til you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah. Well put that aside. im juggling every possible way to achieve my goals. hopefully everything will go well :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5910633659052840314?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5910633659052840314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5910633659052840314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/down.html' title='Down'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3880126114723125745</id><published>2009-09-09T05:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T05:31:36.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight Low</title><content type='html'>"dude, youre still young, man"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe 22 sounds young to u, but im not like you. i dont wanna be 25 and still lost. i dont wanna be 33 and still fool around neither do i wanna be 22 and not care a damn thing. but then again, maybe you're right, though its never too early to start doing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"eee, i anti sia matrep"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously. go get urself a pacifier if ure a fan of anti-ism coz this thing is like a habit. prejudicing is just being pathetic. it really tells alot bout ur character as a person or as a grown up. if ure educated, do act like one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3880126114723125745?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3880126114723125745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3880126114723125745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/straight-low_09.html' title='Straight Low'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7420589403112840947</id><published>2009-09-07T00:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T00:53:40.531+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight Low</title><content type='html'>"but that's just talk until you take me there"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit, im a little taken aback. but im not gonna make it about us. you're having a hard time, a difficult one i must say and i understand that going through something close to your heart is overwhelmingly stressful. I am here, and always will be. All you need to do is tell me when you need me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7420589403112840947?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7420589403112840947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7420589403112840947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/straight-low_07.html' title='Straight Low'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3416858596613905549</id><published>2009-09-03T23:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T23:43:04.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight Low</title><content type='html'>"im sorry to bother you with my problems."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know its polite to say so, though, sincerely speaking, dont have to. im human, ure human. we depend on each other. family, friends, everybody. im sure ull lend ur ears the same when i needed them. when u apologize, it shows that theres more to it. instead, let it all out. let it flow. that tears, turn it into words. release the pain. let loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"im tired of living."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no ure not. ure just tired of not knowing what to do next. its normal. none of us have any clue what comes next and its alright to be scared. im just afraid as u are. no matter, the word 'we' doesnt evolve just so it could be use for general context. 'we' in laymans terms are basically doing things together. together has alot of form to it. all kinds of form/action from helping to listening, discussing, acknowledging and most importantly talking. so when u feel like shutting down, take a moment to look around. if ur own home turns to strangers, then u shall turn to strangers for home. in other words, sometimes the best person is someone u dont even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side Note: My brains not functioning well today. sorry. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3416858596613905549?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3416858596613905549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3416858596613905549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/straight-low.html' title='Straight Low'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1134885268849008670</id><published>2009-09-02T10:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T11:01:53.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight Off</title><content type='html'>"could u help me with some money..?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly? yes i could. but please have the courtesy to tell me why u need em or the reason behind it. im not doing it because u are my friend, im doing it because u need help. but if ur fucking reason doesn't befit the need of any help. then why should i? im sorry if it sounds rude, but people do need to understand the meaning of help. if u asking for help especially financial wise, be advice that money is a very sensitive issue and never to be taken lightly. as fellow mates or friends, the only agreeable terms are words and words only so do be a responsible person and dont let me come and chase ur ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"if i help u, whos gonna help me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hah! only people who think for themselves would say such a thing. sometimes i just wish i could mean it myself and say no for a change. yeap, u got that right. i am that stupid to help people out in every possible way, but u know what? i dont give a flying fuck if noone comes to my rescue. pardon me for the egotism, but thats just my pride talking. i am a man and as gullible and stupid as i am, i can only go so low with just pride at stake, any lower i should just kill myself. so dissed me as much as u like, but this is something that i can never let u have. but than again, we are talking bout help, so yea the least u could do is be grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"its time for a financial planning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i can manage. all i need is time and a little bit more discipline. disappearing act no. 3? well people, ill post my financial schedule once its up and running. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1134885268849008670?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1134885268849008670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1134885268849008670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/09/straight-off.html' title='Straight Off'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6887665732336762123</id><published>2009-08-31T23:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T23:39:23.183+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight Off</title><content type='html'>"wah. You're just like my friend!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not 'that' friend and i certainly dont take the pleasure of being shadowed by whoever you were mentioning. if i remind u of your friend, i respect that but dont give me that same line or impression whenever i did something. keep it to yourself or if i remind u of your friend go find that friend. im not your second hand friend. similar, yes. same, no. im not some imitation product. im me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Im the only me, none is me neither am I you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont give me that - oh im just like anybody shit. fuck anybody. noone is anybody neither should u stoop that low and use that as an excuse for everything you did. stop comparing. stop belittling. stop hating. start appreciating. start respecting. and fuckingly start thinking. im sure you want people to appreciate you as you. identity. thats us. give what u can take or take what you can give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You dont know how much Ive been through."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jolly well I dont. you didnt give me the chance to hear your story. even if i did, i assure u, I absolutely have no fucking clue how u felt at that moment but do stop that attitude coz I can learn. I can understand. I can definitely think and I can pretty much tell you even if its not at your moment it is in this moment in time when you tell me stuff, i could picture them and shoulder that thought and feelings of yours. Even if its a quarter of the pain, it is the least i could do. turning back time is something i can never do, but giving you comfort for now, is absolutely it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6887665732336762123?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6887665732336762123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6887665732336762123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/straight-off_31.html' title='Straight Off'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5853719228537831678</id><published>2009-08-27T20:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:17:48.077+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight Off</title><content type='html'>"Arghh not again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things took a toll today. I was caught reckless riding and now Im like in a deep shit. Beats me. I know I did something wrong, and I admit it, I dont mind being fined or anything, but now its affecting my career since I was in uniform. Gahh a 15 minute detour gone wrong. All thanks to who? nobody but my dumb ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do I rectify a problem that is not within my grasp? I cant. I simply sulk and wait for the verdict. Something Im so fuckingly bad at. Im the type of guy if that problem is hanging in the air, I would like it to be solve and not let it linger in my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get over and done with."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is always an issue, but I believe, it is something that I can handle, but when it implicates other stuff/people, things just gets complicated and I hate that, very very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please dont make my problem your problem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People sometimes hate my gut because I never share my problems even if they are close to me. One thing I learned is to clean up your own shit but yea, I always lend a helping hand cleaning up other people's shit maybe thats why they feel a little 'hurt'. Im so used to giving that I cannot understand how to receive. Anyways, just because I dont aceept 'receive' that doesnt mean Im not appreciating. I am grateful that you, whoever you are, are willing to help me, but all I need from you, is just your sincerity and your understanding. Other than that, I think I can manage. I am a man of pride, least wait till Im all fours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Work is an ass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told, work IS an ass. I hate it so much that I feel like Im one angry kid all the time. At the end of the day I dont think I learned anything wise or useful thats gonna change my whole life or perspective. Im 22, all that shit and learning happened and took place ages ago. So why are you people treating me like Im one god damn kid? Hurts my fucking pride. But anyways, as much as I am complaining now and days to come, I can proudly tell you that I am one of the best at my job. Im active in co-curriculum activities for SCDF and I was awarded the Best Trainee. Furthermore Im the top corporals in my workforce and to achieve such feat as a firefighter is something to be proud of. I am very proud of my work but yet Im not happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the way u see it, what Im trying to prove is that no matter how good you are at something, if you dont or am not feeling happy about it, do something about it. the most important thing in life is being happy not being good at things. Im all for simple life. Too bad I cant resign. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5853719228537831678?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5853719228537831678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5853719228537831678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/straight-off.html' title='Straight Off'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3620306265291184787</id><published>2009-08-20T00:09:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:31:08.995+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gullible</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder, am I really that gullible? I mean, am I easily fooled? tricked? lied?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly speaking, I dont know when to believe or when not to. I take everything with an open mind and I guess one way or another, it just makes me look dumb. So to speak, I am that gullible. Though with 'experience' I learnt to be wary, to a certain extend that is. I mean, if you're gullible, you'll always be one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust me, its not that I never try my very best to not be gullible but then I realised, being gullible may not be as bad as everyone thinks. Well yea, we're easily fooled, lied upon, trick and stuff, not to mention made into a laughing stock but hey why look on these things when people like us are just honest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, first of, Im not trying to make a deal of myself or anything like that, Im just trying to state a point that how stupid a gullible can be, he/she is simply being honest and true. We are what we give. So if someone whos gullible can easily trusts every word, wont that someone be trustworthy? Ok this part, I am talking bout myself, prior to say. Im not sure about you people, but I was taught to be true and honest at all times and because of that I believe everyone was taught the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea. So I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I wont lie to you, I was made a fool. Not once, not twice, in fact, over and over again and even so to the extend that I lost about a thousand dollar for being trustful. Lesson learnt but my principle still stands. My life experience taught me a great deal of pain, that how many times u fall, how many times u were made hurt or made a fool and stuff, let it be upon us, and not us upon others. Karma might not happen to you today, but God is just.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet we are humans; anger, jealousy and hatred are never far of. Feel 'em, release 'em but never let 'em control you for you are the soul of your emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note: I really wanna eat kittens for dinner. Mwahaha! (ok people, im just kidding on the kitten part, im not that cruel yo!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3620306265291184787?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3620306265291184787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3620306265291184787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/gullible.html' title='Gullible'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8877779148915193618</id><published>2009-08-16T04:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T04:51:31.859+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shine On</title><content type='html'>I envy people who are in relationship. Envy them so much that I wish I had one. All around me people are either falling in love or out of it, well mostly in but anyways festive season are around the corner, and I never once celebrate it with someone special. I wish I did.. Hah! No wonder it seem so mundane every god damn year. &amp; I thought im just getting older. Bah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways2, im getting better, if u may ask. erm.. Saving up for rainy season... Cutting down on the ciggies and yea, trying my very best to get fat. Yea, it was 55 last year. Then up to 62. Down to 60. Now its like 57. Fucked up right.. What else eh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea. fucking hell. I wanna get myself a fucking mp3!! I need music! &amp; I wanna catch hangover! :/&lt;br /&gt;Any lovely soul care to take me out? I promise I wont bite..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8877779148915193618?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8877779148915193618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8877779148915193618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/shine-on.html' title='Shine On'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-906003877715141535</id><published>2009-08-13T20:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T21:22:06.982+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Boy</title><content type='html'>Fucking bedridden for nearly 3-4 days with high fever and bloody tonsillitis or whatever that is. Gahh. lost about 3-4 kg. Thats like a kg each day. How can i not? sucking up to porridge doesnt really do much for carbocraping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucked. Just when Im getting used to my routine, this has to happen. I was at top of my game, swimming, gyming, fitness all that and yet I still fell sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to mom, I had my speedy recovery. Anyways.. I dont have any interesting to post or talk about other than the fact I kept having bad dreams these couple of days. Oh yea, still on meds and right now, my heads doing some spins of its on, my body feels so heavy.. and my heart, it longs for a warmth hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-906003877715141535?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/906003877715141535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/906003877715141535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/oh-boy.html' title='Oh Boy'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2403026208458506064</id><published>2009-08-09T10:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T11:30:21.797+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Precious</title><content type='html'>Life. &lt;br /&gt;It is precious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just 'retrieved' a dead body off the river hours ago. A chinese man, about 25 years of age seemingly killed himself. Reasons unknown, but his face, his hands, his posture, could mean one thing. He really wanted to end his life so bad.&lt;br /&gt;When I pulled him out, and turn his stiffed body around, I realised, this body, or what it used to be, was now hardened and souless. Just an empty shell. His face, his eyes are of without any life, without any care in this world. Everything just turn to 'it' in an instance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.. Do we really want that in us? I mean do we really want to not feel pain and love? Grief, agony, joy, laughter and all that? Please, dont ever say i dont care anymore, coz you never really mean nor understand that feeling until someone weep over your body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah.. I seriously dont wish for a next time.. So people, live your life, and love yourself k..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2403026208458506064?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2403026208458506064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2403026208458506064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-precious_09.html' title='Its Precious'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8885873431046311715</id><published>2009-08-05T15:29:00.015+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T18:20:45.258+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Aaj Kal</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/yt-TnuQBTBFEdE/ye_dooriyaan_love_aaj_kal.swf" width="400" height="345" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" name="Metacafe_yt-TnuQBTBFEdE"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ye dooriyan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In raahon ki dooriyan&lt;br /&gt;Nigahon ki dooriyan&lt;br /&gt;Hum rahon ki dooriyan&lt;br /&gt;Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyun koi paas hai &lt;br /&gt;Door hai Kyun koi&lt;br /&gt;Jaane Na koi yahan pe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aa Raha paas ya door mein ja raha &lt;br /&gt;Janu na mein hoon kahan pe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good time yesterday. After like what, a month of sulking at home? I wasnt sure who to catch movies with, til out of nowhere, it just happened. All thanks to Muhit that I, for one, had the courage to watch bollywood in the cinemas. Yea, I was pretty much afraid of what to expect but hey, Muhit's crazy and that really ease the flow. Anyways, I thought it will be full of bollywood gaga-ness but Im surprised. Eventhough there were still dance sequence, but it sticks to the plot. The main hype of this movie is that it reminds us what love is all about. Just what I needed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8885873431046311715?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8885873431046311715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8885873431046311715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/love-aaj-kal.html' title='Love Aaj Kal'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2773789098956661198</id><published>2009-08-04T02:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T02:54:28.747+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatal Attraction</title><content type='html'>If looks can kill, ill probably be dead by now. but no~~, so kill me already. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah. Anyways. My cousin just warned me to ride safely on the road. He said one of his friend had an accident and his intestine torn into two. from the inside. shit. thats fucked up. n im fucked up too. i got this thought that im some kind of immortal. i dont know when to call it quits. i love my life, no doubt. but the heads a lil messed up. i keep wandering off on the road.. 6,8,12. need to find a reason to take public. n fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea, like the candle in the wind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2773789098956661198?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2773789098956661198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2773789098956661198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/08/fatal-attraction.html' title='Fatal Attraction'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1440466599096021543</id><published>2009-07-31T10:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T19:09:23.201+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ting Ting!</title><content type='html'>gahh.. i didnt save my post.. fall asleep in the middle.. and now i cant remember what i wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways.. world peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other than that, nothing really to highlight. just that i hate myself for taking the road for granted. i mean. these past few days or weeks, i cant seem to be on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, my body is there but my mind just wonders off on its on. im like on auto pilot. trust me, half of the time im like, eh wtf, where am i now? hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i kno. believe me. im scared shit myself. there was once, i even told myself, hey what if i had an accident? what would that be? and a few minutes later, a car nearly ran across me. i tell ya, my balls shrink into tiny little molecules. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the mind can be a v-ery dangerous weapon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anws, u kno. thats life. yesterday is history, today is a gift, tomorrow is a mystery. whatever it will be tomorrow, let it be known that everyone of u, so the least, is always on my mind. if u think u werent, think again coz i might just thinking about u, when least expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with love, firin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now2 children, be good. love n not hate. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1440466599096021543?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1440466599096021543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1440466599096021543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/07/ting-ting.html' title='Ting Ting!'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1993436494034849636</id><published>2009-07-28T10:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T11:10:29.858+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Married.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sg.video.yahoo.com/watch/5608441/14720203"&gt;&lt;img width="158" height="111" src="http://l.yimg.com/a/p/i/bcst/yp/belo/10180/90109923.jpg" alt="Not your typical wedding march! @ Yahoo! Video" title="Not your typical wedding march! @ Yahoo! Video" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know bout u guys, but boy, this clip sure brighten my day up.. its just a joyful sight to see people having fun in every way possible.. i mean.. thats how life should be man.. &lt;br /&gt;you know, even in the tedious moment of our life, we should take a moment to add a little humor to it.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coz if you can chuckle and smile your way through hardship then my friend, u deserve every minute and every moment of your life.. nothing beats that lovely smile even when you are crying.. besides, laughter's the best medicine.. so use it often! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1993436494034849636?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1993436494034849636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1993436494034849636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/07/humor.html' title='Getting Married.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3616415066546820045</id><published>2009-07-19T22:47:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T00:54:16.887+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Burned.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Im burned inside out. exhausted; physically and emotionally. truth be told, im in a state of denial. being denied of the truth that lies within and since we are mostly drifting apart, all that is left is myself. im not sure who to turn to and in such moment i turned against myself. abruptly bringing anger, hatred, pain into one twisted mind freak. i tried to ease the pain but im never good at that. instead, i take a self-pity way out in hoping to divert the cruelty of insanity. reasoning with myself to clear th conscious of all negative dismissal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for almost a week, all i ever thought of was my next move. til today then i realised it should have been now and not next. the ego and pride is almost down to its knees, but i am of a proud creature. alas, vindication is my only option. though it is now, for that is the present in which i am burned; hurt. to write it of is to release it; even for a little bit i am relieved.. haizz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sad-ed.. &lt;br /&gt;gahh.. to think that i missed you like hell..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3616415066546820045?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3616415066546820045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3616415066546820045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/07/burned.html' title='Burned.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3051613162616967026</id><published>2009-07-14T20:07:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:46:24.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Auntly Surprise</title><content type='html'>So i was watching this really neat anime when my auntie came to me and say, &lt;br /&gt;"li, blajar jepon la pastu cari perompan jepon. skarang dah banyak tau masuk islam."&lt;br /&gt;i was like - hoh-kay. yea i kno. its random but then she goes on and on about everything there is. being the good kid i am, i pause my anime that i was soo into a second ago, and listen to her. i mean, as much as i dont feel like listening, no offencela, but respect is still respect. so there she was sitting beside me talking about anything and everything there is or was showing on the tv and there i was smiling at her and nodding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hah. in such depth, i notice that i dont talk that much. i mean to anyone at all. even my friends or my family. yea, it stretch to that. i mean its something that serious and it was my auntie who made me realise that. i cant even remember when was the last time i ever tell someone what i did for the day. hah. ok maybe im single, hence the lack of how-was-ur-day question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea, talking bout the how-was-ur-day question. i just hate it when people reply with just a word - ok. not much. or maybe 'its boring'. i mean, okok, no offencela to anyone, but for fuck sake, even 'its boring', least have the decency to say why. i mean boring is part of our emotions so dont tell me u dont know why its boring. like the saying goes, everything happens for a reason so im pretty sure anything that happens in a day, whether its not much, or a typical afternoon, how u feel and what u feel is what matters most. thats what connecting is all about..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we forgot how such question play an important part in our lives. i mean, imagine, ur partner ask u that question every time u came back home from work and all u say - oh its ok. not much. and when u ask them back, they answer the same way u did. dont u think u will drift apart by the end of the year? Bah! ok done.. im tired of figuring things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my anime. kbye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3051613162616967026?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3051613162616967026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3051613162616967026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/07/punya-anak.html' title='Auntly Surprise'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6608506764154426382</id><published>2009-07-04T11:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:37:27.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Churning It Up</title><content type='html'>Things been really rough these couple of weeks and with the "death" of my mp3 due to some unforeseen event (yeap, drowned in the mythical pool of washing-machine is definitely one of them) things just got rougher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, eh no, Im not talking about the mp3 that makes it rougherla. That thing is just the body. Im actually talking about the soul it carries with it. The soul, or in not-so-cheemonological term - music, songs, lagu, chengchongx2, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It connects, it binds, it releases. Whatever way we addresses it, music certainly plays a hidden part in cultivating our minds and the way we perceive it. It accords to your mood, it carries that 'aura' around you and it even acts as your tool be it against or with. To cut short on this agenda, I feel a little relieve though, that people 'no longer' restrict themselves to what they 'think' is cool in terms of music and allow themselves to 'understand' (I really do hope you get my drift, heh.. sorry uh if it seem to have too many loopholes in between, trying to cut it all short mah) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways, thanks to ever raging evolution of technology and advertisement and definitely internet, people are subject to alot more options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This alone can tell us that a greater open of communication, or a bridge to another society, open us up and definitely work its way to a better and understanding community. Yea, my world peace dream. hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Enough, from a personal point suddenly it turned into a political one. What the hell right? hah.. thats why sometimes i just dont feel like bloging coz all i have are boring cheemonology-cum-headache-political stories... gahha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, anyways... what I really wanted to say is that I miss listening to music and because of that, Im getting myself a new mp3. done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6608506764154426382?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6608506764154426382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6608506764154426382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/07/churning-it-up.html' title='Churning It Up'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6319326224454213923</id><published>2009-06-28T10:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T13:51:26.377+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Beautiful Disaster</title><content type='html'>History has its way into people's lives. Death per se. Its like, when you die, you are remembered for the good things in life but when you are alive, healthy and well, people just wanna dig your shit up. Trying to find every little piece of crap out of you. The seven deadly sins, are a great example on how cruel man can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading what happened to MJ, it had me thinking on how hypocritical the news can be, or rather we, as humans, are just another bunch of hypocrites. Believing everything what was written or shown and making it 'us'. Like the saying goes - We are what we eat or in other words, we are what we believe in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gahh, Im sorry, my minds a little jumbled up due to the lack of sleep but, its just that.. I feel sad for MJ. He was loved again only after his death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, tribute to the dead legendary star.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6319326224454213923?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6319326224454213923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6319326224454213923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/06/beautiful-disaster.html' title='A Beautiful Disaster'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4995801364034210693</id><published>2009-06-15T00:12:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:37:39.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Babe</title><content type='html'>I know I dont really blog about anything personal in my life, despite so, i do wish to write a thing or two on whats going on on my mind and yes dont worry Ill definitely look into your eyes and tell you about it, but now, just read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, after what happened during April between me and you, I realise that sometimes, or most of the time, things doesnt really go the way you want it no matter how much u try. Yea, something admirably dissapointing I must say, but that doesnt mean I should stop believing - Though one thing is that it taught me to grab and hold on to what matters most in the present rather than the future. Life is too short to have the perfect plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea.. Its true, in a way, when you say that Im heartless. My past may have made me this way and maybe Im just another kid who's afraid of 'it', but, all in all, we are our own outcome. .. -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gahh. I think I lost the thought in the midst of thoughts. Hah. Im like - erm nvm that.. Guess what, listen closely, i think my heart is calling your name? cliche? Hah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4995801364034210693?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4995801364034210693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4995801364034210693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/06/well-baby.html' title='Well Babe'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7104681688442399363</id><published>2009-06-11T00:19:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:09:05.064+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Book</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;You, me, we are our own story.&lt;br /&gt;None can replace the characters.&lt;br /&gt;Neither can it recreate the chapters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much differences as we are.&lt;br /&gt;Yet similarities are never far apart.&lt;br /&gt;However we are the first of our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The steps we take.&lt;br /&gt;The journey we embark.&lt;br /&gt;We create them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are what we are, for none can be us.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously, i need to stop all this metaphoric-ky-speaking-thinggy. its getting old. shheesshh. yea like seriously, sleep bloody ass sleep!! Gah.. later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7104681688442399363?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7104681688442399363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7104681688442399363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/06/book.html' title='A Book'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3093598568782830252</id><published>2009-06-07T22:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T22:46:21.682+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Memoir: What Friendship is all about (short)</title><content type='html'>It all started with 2. Slowly it became 20, soon after it drop to 10. Good times and bad times, we share the moments together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how far apart, with sincerity, we will always stay as one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="176" height="132" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/113059994615" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/113059994615" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="176" height="132"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3093598568782830252?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3093598568782830252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3093598568782830252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/06/memoir-what-friendship-is-all-about.html' title='A Memoir: What Friendship is all about (short)'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-9022806576019291463</id><published>2009-06-05T00:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T00:59:34.252+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Missing</title><content type='html'>Ive started smoking.&lt;br /&gt;Ive stop hanging out with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;Ive stop my gym activities.&lt;br /&gt;Im slacking my brains off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Whats going on fir..?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder..&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a living zombie, once again....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In times like this, forgiveness is all I could ask for.&lt;br /&gt;In times like this, I really could use a shoulder to lie on.&lt;br /&gt;&amp; In times like this, I do wish someone will tell me that everything will be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. This is fir.. and if you are reading this, do cherish your moments..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-9022806576019291463?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/9022806576019291463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/9022806576019291463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/06/something-missing.html' title='Something Missing'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2948558826307952315</id><published>2009-06-01T11:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T11:57:40.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Open-ended.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Life, it is like an open-ended book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started with a letter. Then from these letters, it grew into words. Words that eventually formed sentence and sentences that became paragraphs and finally, a story was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like every story, it has- me and you; him and her; they and them; &amp; like every story, there will be a beginning and an end. Whatever the outcome- The flow of our decision, our fate, our dreams, our fantasies; are all within the chapters. It varies, and its never the same, though, maybe similar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, do know, what has been written can never be erased.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2948558826307952315?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2948558826307952315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2948558826307952315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/06/open-ended.html' title='Open-ended.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1091050464386299218</id><published>2009-05-30T22:50:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:54:52.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Date Sex</title><content type='html'>To all those kinkies out there, Im sorry. Its just a title and has nothing to do with sex whatsoever. So err.. yea, cheers~!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. You see, its been a while since I update this mundane blog of mine so bear with me and let me just write a thing or two about- erm.. anything I supposed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, right now, things just seem so stagnant. Too stagnant that I cant seem to find a reason why I blog. Life pretty much lethargic. Nothing new. Nothing interesting. Gosh. Seriously, Im like so bored out of my wits. So fucking bored of my way. Everything about me seem so lame and so damn pathetic. Fuckingly Gargh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh- Im sorry. Sometimes I get carried away. Anyways, lets move on to something light hearted shall we. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. something light hearted. Just a thought, why do I have this feeling that you are afraid to love me? Or issit, you just dont give a damn?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1091050464386299218?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1091050464386299218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1091050464386299218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-date-sex.html' title='First Date Sex'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1674080915972664259</id><published>2009-05-12T20:01:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T21:10:13.595+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bittersweet.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/Sglx0geI8iI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Frc6rMZVdOs/s1600-h/seven_pounds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/Sglx0geI8iI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Frc6rMZVdOs/s200/seven_pounds.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334920380480549410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Title: Seven Pounds (2008)&lt;br /&gt;Cast: Will Smith, Rosario Dawson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gahh. This movie really took me by surprise. I mean who would have thought a title like SEVEN POUNDS could be something so emotional. If violence already has rating, then they should start putting ratings for emotional once too. Something like E-18 or whatever there is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah. Teary teary lil eyes. I dont know about you, but I just adore movies that is close to the heart. Somewhat natural, bittersweet and heart-warming. I wont go into details about the movie cause it'll just ruin the experience but yea, I did some research and I realise why it was called Seven Pounds. But- nahh. Watch it, understand it, and you too will know why its called Seven Pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, its really a moving story and if you like this one then you'll definitely like &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Feast of Love&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pursuit of Happiness&lt;/span&gt; or vice versa la.  Yeap, my teary collections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, if you are a fan of these series, do hook me up with other titles too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1674080915972664259?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1674080915972664259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1674080915972664259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/05/bittersweet.html' title='Bittersweet.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/Sglx0geI8iI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Frc6rMZVdOs/s72-c/seven_pounds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5209842747552878025</id><published>2009-05-05T19:01:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:28:55.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mirror You.</title><content type='html'>You know, there was a saying that a mirror is like a double edge sword; Believe in it and you will shatter, ignore it and you will suffer.. But humans desires are above all.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine one fine day, when you look into the mirror - that same mirror you look at every single day of your freaking life, start to take over you.. A retribution of what you took for granted..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always you look at the mirror to check yourself out. You made a couple of smiles and cool poses until you gave yourself a hard look. You look hard and long when slowly you felt uneasy. It sounded silly so you gave yourself a smile. But then there was no reaction. Puzzled. You stood there wondering. An illusion or just your mind? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You moved yourself again this time round bringing yourself closer. Everything was fine. You smiled once more. It synchronized. You were relieved. You gave yourself a sighed for being so silly but then - a chuckled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were stunned! That wasnt a sigh and it definitely didnt came from you. When you realized where it was from, your reflection, that it, took a face of its own. Your eyes widened in disbelief. It laughed. Then smirking at your dumbfounded movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your knees gave way and you fall back on your butt. Its raised both of its hands towards you. Pointing at you with its devilish look; still smirking away. You tried to speak up but it beat you to it. Started off from a deep toned voice it turned into a melody, u tried to get a grasped on what it was saying.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...."&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I.. want...." ...."I .. ..want.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With your trembled voice, you asked. "What... do you want..?"..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"I want.. Nobody, &lt;br /&gt;     Nobody but you&lt;br /&gt;      I want nobody, &lt;br /&gt;       Nobody but you&lt;br /&gt;        I dont want anyone else&lt;br /&gt;         I cant have anyone but you&lt;br /&gt;          I want nobody nobody,&lt;br /&gt;            Nobody nobody..&lt;br /&gt;             Nandareun sarameun silheo&lt;br /&gt;              Nigaanimyeon silheo.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woohoo!! Lets dance to wondergirl~ !! Without any moment, you pick yourself up and dance yourself to the song as well~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lame, I know! But see, a happy ending afterall! Haha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5209842747552878025?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5209842747552878025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5209842747552878025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/05/mirror-you.html' title='Mirror You.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2252743290779782850</id><published>2009-05-02T10:44:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:39:09.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Corazon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Listening to my little jukebox, reggaeing to the soothing song..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let myself loose to the everlasting surreal lake, formed within my fantasy. Dark skies filled with creamy stars covering the tranquil lake while synchronizing every twinkle to the soft beat of the crushing waves. The wind, an instrument of its own, serenade the soft lushing leaves, humming and dancing at every breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked upon the horizon, far beyond; crystallized mountains enclave every corner. Unfazed, it servitude itself to the ever empowering glow of the moon embracing its reflection across the calm lake. It became my eternal guardian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, out of all, the moon stands out the most. I found myself locked to its beauty and being at its fullest round, none can compete against that ever bright glow. Illuminating down from far above, smiling brightly - it gave me the warmth and assurance I desire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon, my corazon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;Gahah. Oh wells. Firepost. A boredom much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2252743290779782850?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2252743290779782850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2252743290779782850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/05/bedtime-story.html' title='My Corazon'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7983977472878275631</id><published>2009-04-27T18:31:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:39:11.111+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kwangx3</title><content type='html'>Gah. What a week to NOT remember. Cut short. Nothing special happen or none worth mentioning la during my week off birthday period.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, thanks for all the birthday wishes and especially to Ayeen. My lovely 'god-sister'. Hah. Seeing her reminds me of the good ol times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh the days.. K nuf of that reminiscing-gy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the next time Ill be seeing her is probably next year. 21/04/2010. Hopefully there will be a cake for the both of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: its been a while since i look myself in the eye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7983977472878275631?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7983977472878275631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7983977472878275631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/04/kwangx3.html' title='Kwangx3'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-399737215088767380</id><published>2009-04-20T19:53:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:43:50.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'>100 years</title><content type='html'>I hate the idea of getting older. Worst part, I hate it even more when a year just flew right by without any achievements. Maybe I have high expectations of myself but one has to be ambitious to be successful, aint that right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But than again, you dont live a 100 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forsaken as it may sound, I do cherish the small things in life but its just like a passing light. You can see that its there, you just took it as just another light. You know, that kind of feeling; when it disappear then you realize its significant sorta thing. Other than that, ignorance is what we do best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 years and counting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-399737215088767380?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/399737215088767380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/399737215088767380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/04/wanting-you-more.html' title='100 years'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3405704139792486424</id><published>2009-04-12T20:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:56:55.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Dimensional</title><content type='html'>National Service is like a hiatus to life for me. &lt;br /&gt;Yea, a sucky hiatus where things continue to be negatively so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to write about this down due to the fact that many are affected by it; especially myself. First of, I miss my friends. Secondly, I miss my freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, I miss being myself. I used to care. Now I dont even bother. Its saddening coz the only thing I know Im ever good at is being there for everyone. Now, I have nothing else. The feeling of being robbed of it somewhat a pain to my system thats turning everything Im doing to utterly pointless. Im becoming selfish and I finally understand what it means to be an adult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a cruel selfish world. A dog eat dog kinda life. I wonder.. Will I be a dog too..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K nuf said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just so u know this isnt just another whining session but a way for me to keep reminding myself that there is more to life than life itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok! lets write a little thing about what Ive been doing these days. Ive been busy training for my competition, so one way to release my stress was through partying and you know what, it didnt really work that well coz nothing was released. Hah. I went yesterday night and, unexpectedly true, I was thinking bout you the whole timela. Cant stop wondering how itll be.. Beats me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3405704139792486424?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3405704139792486424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3405704139792486424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/04/3-dimensional.html' title='3 Dimensional'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4939444739789264309</id><published>2009-04-06T20:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:42:11.408+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peewee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/Sdn0960k_3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/5xphr4gztag/s1600-h/09022009336.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/Sdn0960k_3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/5xphr4gztag/s200/09022009336.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321553779313934194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting Terror With Water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to write a news article on this picture but probably eat up alot of my time. Yea. Good stuff takes time and further more, Im 'that' busy. Anyways, Im tired of getting funny respond when I say Im a firefighter. Funny how people mistook our job for. Obviously Singapore is pretty safe but fighting fire and being professional takes more than physical fitness and our daily life is not something 'lepak'. Well no point explaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what, next time if anyone ask me what I am in NS, Im just gonna reply them Im a storeman. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. Whats going on in my life. NS. NS stuff. N more NS stuff. Boring. Gah. What the fook Im doing.. K nvm. bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4939444739789264309?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4939444739789264309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4939444739789264309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/04/peewee.html' title='Peewee'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/Sdn0960k_3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/5xphr4gztag/s72-c/09022009336.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7163546582091567913</id><published>2009-03-28T21:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T21:41:11.634+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Say yes to yes&lt;br /&gt;Say no to regrets&lt;br /&gt;Say what you need to say&lt;br /&gt;Else; there wont be any left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the moments&lt;br /&gt;When time seem so short&lt;br /&gt;Life seem so precious&lt;br /&gt;All we have are each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selfless or selfish&lt;br /&gt;both are of joy&lt;br /&gt;Have you found it in you?&lt;br /&gt;Have you brought it upon others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day you're gone&lt;br /&gt;Only the prints are left&lt;br /&gt;Let it be spread to all&lt;br /&gt;Let it be a form of remembrance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it with an open mind&lt;br /&gt;Do it all once again&lt;br /&gt;Your smile of tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Will be brighter than the sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joy of life; never let it go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7163546582091567913?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7163546582091567913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7163546582091567913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/03/say.html' title='Say'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4674214078732636168</id><published>2009-03-21T14:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:14:37.651+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Routine.</title><content type='html'>Girls.&lt;br /&gt;NS.&lt;br /&gt;Sex.&lt;br /&gt;Konek.&lt;br /&gt;Bikes.&lt;br /&gt;Girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like a routine. The everyday commotion among guys who are mostly nothing less than colleagues. Yea, same ol same ol. Dont know, maybe thats what they call guys thing. Hah. Cant do much bout it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do know that when it comes to sex talk, every guy is pretty much expected to be natural to the topic. Theres no such thing as a virgin guy, even if youre one, yes, like me, people will assume u otherwise like now. Youre reading this and yet you dont believe me right? Anyways, its a norm that all guys got laid before. Oh the power of assumptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, just because Im, you know- V, that doesnt mean Im not experienced. I had my fair share of deal. Both bed and what not. But believe it or not, sex never happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shuteye mode.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4674214078732636168?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4674214078732636168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4674214078732636168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/03/routine.html' title='Routine.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6219133679216540026</id><published>2009-03-15T11:43:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:15:24.088+08:00</updated><title type='text'>With The Lights On</title><content type='html'>I cant deny that life is full of surprises&lt;br /&gt;With the emotional that attached to it&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, as a human, my reaction -&lt;br /&gt;Is being one all about pretending?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im constantly fighting my own conscious&lt;br /&gt;God knows; Im only human&lt;br /&gt;So forgive me if I ask so many silly questions&lt;br /&gt;Like, Im sorry -&lt;br /&gt;But, really, am I able to keep you happy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6219133679216540026?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6219133679216540026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6219133679216540026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/03/with-lights-on.html' title='With The Lights On'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4991223748231164233</id><published>2009-03-06T14:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T17:15:31.508+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im Only Human</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Could she be the one that I've been lookin for&lt;br /&gt;Be the kind of girl that I adore&lt;br /&gt;Make me wanna play no more&lt;br /&gt;Could she be the one that I been dreamin of&lt;br /&gt;The kind of girl that I would love&lt;br /&gt;Must have come from up above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was cruisin one day in the neighbourhood&lt;br /&gt;When I saw this girl that was lookin so good&lt;br /&gt;I think I seen her couple times in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had long dark hair fallin down&lt;br /&gt;Make you lose your balance, hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;Must have been the finest woman that Ive ever seen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not help but pull over&lt;br /&gt;I'm wonderin should I go over&lt;br /&gt;And although I don't even know her&lt;br /&gt;She could be my queen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm watching her from a distance&lt;br /&gt;My life could change in an instance&lt;br /&gt;I'm tryin to fight my resistance&lt;br /&gt;That is if you know what I mean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was so beautiful, but she wore a frown&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I could be the one to turn it around&lt;br /&gt;Wonderin what it is thats playin on her mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna know where she's from, what she like&lt;br /&gt;So that I could change what's wrong to right&lt;br /&gt;If I made a move would I be out of line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's my kind of beauty queen&lt;br /&gt;Since she came up on the scene&lt;br /&gt;All I wanna do is sit around and daydream&lt;br /&gt;Wonder if we'll ever be, could she be my destiny&lt;br /&gt;Coz she's all that I ever see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4991223748231164233?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4991223748231164233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4991223748231164233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-only-human.html' title='Im Only Human'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8591127821323805335</id><published>2009-02-25T04:24:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:42:25.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Aware</title><content type='html'>To me everyday is a lesson learnt. I dont fancy talking about others, what more about myself. Life mimics and repeats; what has been experience we re-experience so I wonder, why bother? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that shouldnt stop us from indulging ourselves in dreams and fantasies; hoping that one day itll all come true. Dont ever let anyone take that away from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok back to the smaller picture. I have to say, nothing seems what it seems. I have this friend who has all the tattoos on the wrong places yet the spiritual knowledge of his own religion is strongly intact. So knowledgeable that Im ashamed of myself for not knowing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I ask him, "What happened?", and he replied coherently, "I dont think anyone is to blame coz in the end, it was all down to me".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasnt utterly surprised, though he did reopen my eyes about the whole definition of good and bad, light and dark, and bla bla bla all that stuff. Comparison was a mere instant and I realised no matter how innocent you may be, in the end its not up to you at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets put it this way, which is deem appropriate?&lt;br /&gt;- Im just a good guy with so many bad habits; or&lt;br /&gt;- Im just a bad ass with so many good traits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You decide? Until next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8591127821323805335?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8591127821323805335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8591127821323805335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/02/be-aware.html' title='Be Aware'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2505335678795165539</id><published>2009-02-11T11:49:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T03:48:37.613+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skid'Off</title><content type='html'>For what its worth, these are the things that Ive been busy with. Life as a runner and a climber at the same time a saver. Out of all this, what do I get in return? Treated like a dog? Haha. Same ol same ol. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I realized this vibe Im giving out, its just plain dumb. I hope everyone can 'tahan' my crap for another year before I spread my wings once more and smile brighter than the sun. My actions probably affect many, especially my close friends. Whatever it is, let it be written here that I appreciate what you guys did/doing for me - Hilmi, Muhit, Agil to name a few. To Ashari as well. Even though I kinda give them the cold shoulder, they still stick with me. Truth be told, All I ever did was to shun everyone out. Hah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh besides that - Pika, Hafiz, Zahid, Afiq appreciate the &lt;3. Other than that I do wanna apologize to Hairil and Zila for making them feel as though Ive betrayed their friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im writing this down coz I know, some things are impossible to relay. Let what has been written be part of history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLdGz17SI/AAAAAAAAAXE/9wltAwe-ubY/s1600-h/Image002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLdGz17SI/AAAAAAAAAXE/9wltAwe-ubY/s200/Image002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301382674784840994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLdLlG_0I/AAAAAAAAAW8/TRAIMAfbyMY/s1600-h/Image010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLdLlG_0I/AAAAAAAAAW8/TRAIMAfbyMY/s200/Image010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301382676065222466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLc6DxMSI/AAAAAAAAAW0/hl0WeZhi5fA/s1600-h/Image000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLc6DxMSI/AAAAAAAAAW0/hl0WeZhi5fA/s200/Image000.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301382671361978658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLcwvl6tI/AAAAAAAAAWs/9YDrHJaYYVg/s1600-h/Image015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLcwvl6tI/AAAAAAAAAWs/9YDrHJaYYVg/s200/Image015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301382668861434578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2505335678795165539?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2505335678795165539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2505335678795165539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/02/skidoff.html' title='Skid&apos;Off'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SZJLdGz17SI/AAAAAAAAAXE/9wltAwe-ubY/s72-c/Image002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5773970551317573622</id><published>2009-02-07T13:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T20:44:50.755+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You see it all in my smile&lt;br /&gt;You hear it all in my laugh&lt;br /&gt;The way I walk you hear me talkin, &lt;br /&gt;No, I'm no longer sad&lt;br /&gt;I've got more reason to smile&lt;br /&gt;More now than I've ever had&lt;br /&gt;Open my eyes and realized&lt;br /&gt;That nothing's quite that bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a different approach&lt;br /&gt;To dealin' with emotion&lt;br /&gt;Keeping control of my boat&lt;br /&gt;While drifting on this ocean&lt;br /&gt;Keepin my head to the sky&lt;br /&gt;Keepin tears outta my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Unless happiness be the reason&lt;br /&gt;That I decide to cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know about down and out&lt;br /&gt;I know about when it gets tough&lt;br /&gt;Losing the fight, you see the light, &lt;br /&gt;And you just want to give up&lt;br /&gt;I know about being depressed&lt;br /&gt;About leaving someone you love&lt;br /&gt;I also know about standing up&lt;br /&gt;And saying enough is enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lifes too short to dwell on all that's wrong&lt;br /&gt;Stand up now, and I promise not before long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll be feelin better today&lt;br /&gt;Much better today, so much better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5773970551317573622?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5773970551317573622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5773970551317573622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/02/better-today.html' title='Better Today'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2090256056200147448</id><published>2009-02-05T06:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:43:17.511+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cross Over</title><content type='html'>Judging from what I have left, nothing seem to satisfy. I have good friends, a good life, a good family yet greatness is never there. I failed as a person and if I truly succeed in it, I wont be writing this post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that being in the sideline is just damn boring but being in the limelight seem so risky, instead I opt to play in between. A life so norm that none seem to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told, Im tired; no. Actually I dont really have any idea what Im writing these days. Its just words making up a post. Its still fun to do it verbally though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking gives you the benefit of spending the time with that person. Atleast its spend. Rather than none.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2090256056200147448?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2090256056200147448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2090256056200147448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/02/cross-over.html' title='Cross Over'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6083795433140559165</id><published>2009-01-29T09:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:32:29.771+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What makes her hot?</title><content type='html'>In my eyes beauty is an essence of its own creation. You can never compare beauty. What can be seen should be appreciated the way it is; accordingly to ones taste. So trust me when I say hotness in my opinion isnt about that sex appeal but its that intel up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me weirdo or whatever, but I can tell you this, a woman who can really talk is a damn turn on. To use words to express her ideals using knowledge and understanding can easily change to what we call a simple talk into an intelligent conversation. To be able to voice her own opinion and debate and at the same time to correspond in a simple yet subtle way is something what I would call hotness. Shessh. No wonder Im attracted to lawyers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well lets continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life, us, and everything in this world are connected. If you noticed, you understand what I mean and likewise this topic. When one can express one thought expressfully one bound to have an open mind and be able to listen, discuss and to mingle with thoughts that once had never crossed our minds. Hence tendency to appreciate, understand and interact better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always say that self-confidence is hot but how do one define such trait?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6083795433140559165?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6083795433140559165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6083795433140559165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-makes-her-hot.html' title='What makes her hot?'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-676056254733971104</id><published>2009-01-19T13:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:22:30.991+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I See</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I see a future full of life&lt;br /&gt;I see beyond the limit of my own desire&lt;br /&gt;I see peace ahead of this chaotic times&lt;br /&gt;coz' I see what I wanna see&lt;br /&gt;&amp; I'm sure, there isn't a need to complicate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel simplicity at its best&lt;br /&gt;I feel comfort. laughter &amp; joy&lt;br /&gt;I feel warmth in the midst of this coldness&lt;br /&gt;yet these are of those ahead&lt;br /&gt;&amp; right now, its unpredictabl&lt;/span&gt;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-676056254733971104?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/676056254733971104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/676056254733971104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-see.html' title='I See'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5693871358251315608</id><published>2009-01-15T13:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T13:03:35.274+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;When there is love, there is peace.&lt;br /&gt;Someone used to say that.&lt;br /&gt;There're those nodding to it,&lt;br /&gt;And There're those doubting it.&lt;br /&gt;From that time onwards,&lt;br /&gt;Ive lost my words.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts my heart to see,&lt;br /&gt;This love - became torn apart.&lt;br /&gt;Hands holding hands,&lt;br /&gt;This time we wont let go.&lt;br /&gt;The power of believe,&lt;br /&gt;Will turn love to freedom.&lt;br /&gt;Tired of waiting for miracles.&lt;br /&gt;I wish to take this hand.&lt;br /&gt;This power of believe,&lt;br /&gt;Will set me free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-5693871358251315608?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5693871358251315608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5693871358251315608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/01/words.html' title='Words'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6864793051520711358</id><published>2009-01-03T00:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T12:32:28.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year My Ass</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The shit just never ends.&lt;br /&gt;First I was dropped to a place where my superior seem to be deprive from entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, Im like dead unhappy about being there.&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly out of nowhere, I had an accident that shook the hell out of everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Hence, the fourth. Im crippled out of my own bike.&lt;br /&gt;Fifthly I lost the only communication device I had to the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, 2009 just started. What a start eh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6864793051520711358?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6864793051520711358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6864793051520711358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year-my-ass.html' title='Happy New Year My Ass'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2008367228840100327</id><published>2008-12-16T04:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T06:44:51.839+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession: My G</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I ended up watching you right in the eye. Started thinking of kissing you, accidentally. This is so crazy. I might be little over my head, but I kinda like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the artist himself - Ne-Yo. A genius. Dont think any of you have heard the song called Over My Head but thats what Im going through - being a little over my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How pathetically weird that the type of person you adore doesnt seem to be on your path; always. Things just doesnt seem to work the way you want it to be. Funny when people kept asking me what type of girl falls under my criteria and my answer seem so simple yet its like so hard to find one that fits the match. When I do, its always someone else's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where can I get to know someone who is intellectually smart, patiently understanding and innocently downright kind of person? I just cant seem to come across any at the moment.. Am I asking a little too much or lady-luck is just not on my side?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2008367228840100327?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2008367228840100327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2008367228840100327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/12/confession-my-g.html' title='Confession: My G'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6758053005376452025</id><published>2008-12-13T17:41:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T20:24:47.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession: NS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I need someone to listen to me. Guess no one bothered to. Or maybe its just me all along. Well, alas, let me just release this tension k.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arghh. I hate expectations. Reality hurts and truth be told maybe I am afraid of commitment. How could I? If there is no passion in it? I mean why bother and tire yourself? Yes true enough, everyone has gone through it but unlike everyone else, I really have got no courage to face it. I seriously need a motivation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Ive been doing is find another solution to make things easy. Fucking hell. Isnt that what everyone tried to do? I need to stop this hating myself thinggy. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways with the tag of 'BEST' on my head, its just pathetic that I could not do any mistake. Fucked up right? It scares me so much that I cant even think or do anything straight anymore. I realized I suck when under pressure. I hate to be weak. I need to be strong again. I need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All Im asking for is a helping hand. Fuck. Give me a hug anyone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6758053005376452025?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6758053005376452025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6758053005376452025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/12/confession-ns.html' title='Confession: NS'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1538781622265492864</id><published>2008-11-29T13:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T14:15:45.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter of The Day: Its More Than That</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Dear Berry,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a question, which is better? Love for marriage, or marriage for love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken, 19&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;To Chicken,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, the new-old-aged question. There was a time when people dont really understand the meaning of love - actually more of not portraying the love. It was condoned as something unrealistic. Thanks to Shakespeare, love became an addiction. To tell you the truth, if we are talking about love, it never ends but theres a loop hole in this thing we call love, it all started off in the same way - Lust. Define love as much as you want but when it comes to lust, its the same shit; craving, wanting and liking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So its all just a simple term of which is faster in achieving that lust. One, you need to find the key first and the other, the door has been open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1538781622265492864?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1538781622265492864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1538781622265492864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-not-asking-much.html' title='Letter of The Day: Its More Than That'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-8811119345484165399</id><published>2008-11-21T11:24:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:36:11.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter of the Day: First Issue</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Dear Dr Berry,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and for most, what kind of a name is DR BERRY?? You need to get a better name my friend. 2ndly, my damn problem. I need your help. Im busy with my life and almost everyday Im tired yet my friends keep bugging me to make plans for them. Im out of my wits and seriously the things we did are mostly the same ol shit. Can you suggest me of any bewildering plans??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhaustor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;To Exhaustor,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello you there, Exhaustor. Just so you know, Exhaustor aint any better than Berry so shall we proceed with your damn problem? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, from what you've given me, I see that you are somehow tired of yourself and more of your friends. So what I suggest is to simply unleash it all onto your friends. Bring suffering and pain and rain hell on them, but in a good way (unless you wanna lose your friends). Paint them with your bloodlust for making you more stress. Do something that you know you can literally torture them without exposing your hidden agendas. *grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So still clueless? Come let me enlighten you with some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSSBiiVI/AAAAAAAAAVc/PFF2mCxJc9k/s1600-h/P4093082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSSBiiVI/AAAAAAAAAVc/PFF2mCxJc9k/s200/P4093082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270984290843396434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSPqfyfI/AAAAAAAAAVU/qDU2GJ4dsvI/s1600-h/P4093078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSPqfyfI/AAAAAAAAAVU/qDU2GJ4dsvI/s200/P4093078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270984290209876466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMTUrrRfI/AAAAAAAAAV0/CskesRPlOvY/s1600-h/P4103118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMTUrrRfI/AAAAAAAAAV0/CskesRPlOvY/s200/P4103118.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270984308736869874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSxlVMbI/AAAAAAAAAVs/fDN-EiyNRUM/s1600-h/P4103106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSxlVMbI/AAAAAAAAAVs/fDN-EiyNRUM/s200/P4103106.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270984299315016114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSpHKtbI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Yv4Ev5z7omw/s1600-h/P4093096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSpHKtbI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Yv4Ev5z7omw/s200/P4093096.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270984297041016242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZOEJUvtNI/AAAAAAAAAWM/HLD2lAY2_Ew/s1600-h/P4093089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZOEJUvtNI/AAAAAAAAAWM/HLD2lAY2_Ew/s200/P4093089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270986247013119186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZOD7hPhsI/AAAAAAAAAWE/P1x6xKQYXXk/s1600-h/P4103117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZOD7hPhsI/AAAAAAAAAWE/P1x6xKQYXXk/s200/P4103117.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270986243307439810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZODmlFkmI/AAAAAAAAAV8/-S3O6gVjG3Y/s1600-h/P4103102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZODmlFkmI/AAAAAAAAAV8/-S3O6gVjG3Y/s200/P4103102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270986237686420066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZPPQLN1lI/AAAAAAAAAWk/4nG9J3_LmMg/s1600-h/P4103137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZPPQLN1lI/AAAAAAAAAWk/4nG9J3_LmMg/s200/P4103137.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270987537342387794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZPPK3vahI/AAAAAAAAAWc/qY-ZhP-E5eM/s1600-h/P4103128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZPPK3vahI/AAAAAAAAAWc/qY-ZhP-E5eM/s200/P4103128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270987535918524946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZPO5mFa4I/AAAAAAAAAWU/vcPb7oW9MMA/s1600-h/P4103131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZPO5mFa4I/AAAAAAAAAWU/vcPb7oW9MMA/s200/P4103131.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270987531281066882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I need to go through them too??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours Truthfully,&lt;br /&gt;Dr Berry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-8811119345484165399?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8811119345484165399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/8811119345484165399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/11/letter-of-day.html' title='Letter of the Day: First Issue'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SSZMSSBiiVI/AAAAAAAAAVc/PFF2mCxJc9k/s72-c/P4093082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1709106668689422817</id><published>2008-11-19T16:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T16:23:28.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just My Imagination</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Its weird when Im lying down on a bed, words flew right through like a flock of birds shadowing you but when Im sitting here and staring at my blog, none of it came to light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres soo much I wanna say yet its stuck. Why? Seriously, I cant really find the answer. Sometimes I wonder which is real. Here us, or the dreams that we built? The lives that we see in us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, its a shame. This is just my imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1709106668689422817?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1709106668689422817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1709106668689422817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-my-imagination.html' title='Just My Imagination'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2683809745067813364</id><published>2008-11-03T19:24:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T22:21:26.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing You.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hey You. My sweet lovely You.&lt;br /&gt;I wish it was like yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;Where my life was ever so full of you.&lt;br /&gt;When you are just a hand away; never missing a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could feel you once again.&lt;br /&gt;Your fragrant, that burning aroma linger around me.&lt;br /&gt;Your voluptuous sweetness burns through my lips.&lt;br /&gt;That constant sensual desire of having you close to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really am, missing you a lot.&lt;br /&gt;You were my social mascot; desired by the same taste.&lt;br /&gt;You were my warmth; heating me up whenever I need be.&lt;br /&gt;You were my freedom against all odds of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were indeed, my one and only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing You.&lt;br /&gt;Firin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS: Wondering about 'You' and feeling a little lucky? Why not make your way to the tag and make a guess? Who knows, if you get it right, you could win yourself a trip to Bali! So hurry! Get lucky, today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SQ8Hjf89NSI/AAAAAAAAAVM/L1YoqSiSwQc/s1600-h/Bali.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 80px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SQ8Hjf89NSI/AAAAAAAAAVM/L1YoqSiSwQc/s200/Bali.jpg" border="2" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264434795873383714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size=1&gt;(3 days 2 nights and all expenses included. Contests dates last from 3 November and ends on 29 November. Winners will be notify accordingly. Terms and conditions apply.)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2683809745067813364?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2683809745067813364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2683809745067813364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/11/missing-you.html' title='Missing You.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SQ8Hjf89NSI/AAAAAAAAAVM/L1YoqSiSwQc/s72-c/Bali.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4818969825763924733</id><published>2008-10-29T05:29:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T09:40:04.434+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Its weird when I read other people's blog where in this case; a guy's blog, they tend to have other guy's link/blog whatever but I cant seem to have one at all. I mean a guy's friend link that is. Yes, it is weird. No. Not in gay-weirdness but weird as in weirdly-whathell-kind of thing. At me la I mean, not towards the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, wait. Come to think of it, none of my kampung,riders,school,ns, or simply any clique friends of mine own any blog related sites or a reading section of their own for that matter. So, hmm.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusion: I cant think of any.. Hmm.. Perhaps Im just the pathetic out of place guy. K shitznit. Think positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok put that aside. I miss games. I miss role playing especially. I miss adventure. I really miss exploring and definitely miss kissing. Hah. Yes, I really do miss lip-locking. Its been a while, I tell ya. Ok. Maybe a little too much information. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Im tired, so gotta get some sleep but before that; check this out (dont forget to mute the background music).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IGU_SHufUBk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IGU_SHufUBk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiley2 behbeh :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4818969825763924733?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4818969825763924733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4818969825763924733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/10/random_29.html' title='Random'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-1339573435236875476</id><published>2008-10-23T11:35:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:19:01.861+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Many O's</title><content type='html'>&gt;What do you do if your friend had a nightmare of you being hurt? So badly hurt, so real and so vividly clear that they themselves cant differentiate the parallelism between reality and dreams?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I was having this weird-scary-confusing feeling whether to calm him down or  myself. Crazy right. Well whatever it was, this is just the paranoia talking/writing. But, hmm you can never be too sure right so if it does happen (touch wood), dont ever stop missing me then eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wsll, this is what he saidla that I self skidded myself during a turn while he was on board and being the rider I was terribly hurt. K tu je coz some things are better left unsaidla, actually, Im just too lazy these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok. Look on the bright side, at least I know my friend still cares for me. So if I failed to convey my gratitude, let this be a love post to yall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wit &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-1339573435236875476?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1339573435236875476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/1339573435236875476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/10/too-many-os.html' title='Too Many O&apos;s'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-5024818654832936512</id><published>2008-10-18T09:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T09:19:55.412+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do, in order to have what you want." - Margaret Young&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/4725421524869815526-5024818654832936512?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5024818654832936512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/5024818654832936512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-must-first-be-who-you-really-are.html' title=''/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-3811615031149826710</id><published>2008-10-11T02:48:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:20:01.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Return To Innocence</title><content type='html'>My theme song do sound a little gay, maybe alotla but hell, its sure is therapeutic, at least I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea you guessed it. Chronic disease. So here I am, trying to heal myself from this sickness; this fuckingly-boredom disease. Mind the language. Anyways please dont ask me why or ok, maybe you should, but seriously do coax me along the way. Hah. I seriously could use some cuddly words of encouragement right bout now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know a 'speech' or whatever it is to make you feel like its worth-it-to-wake-up-tomorrow kind of talk/action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-3811615031149826710?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3811615031149826710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/3811615031149826710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/10/random.html' title='Return To Innocence'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-6846217512111961153</id><published>2008-10-08T12:05:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:25:00.269+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Marathon</title><content type='html'>Ive just finish watching this movie called Foreign Exchange and it reminded me how fun it was to be young. Yea, I know.. Even though my school life sucks balls but the aura of it keeps me on toes. Those were the days huh. No worries. No responsibilities. Hell, life was simple back then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, today was the day I stayed at home. The day I watched about 5 movies. Hah. Crazy ass mofo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started of with Babylon A.D. An action film by Vin Diesel. Great acting, great storyline but too bad, simply short lived for the ending. Overall I just love Vin's movie. Kick ass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I continued with a romantic movie. Mind the tittle though, its called Heavy Petting. However it has nothing to do with foreplay whatsoever. The connection is simply Petting coz theres pet involve. Aint gonna tell you the synopsis but yea the acting and the smooth storyline is a plus. Yeap. Adorable rom-com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I proceed with this 3rd edition of Starship Troopers. Starship Troopers Marauder. Man, Im telling ya. Whoever create this movie is really a shithead director/producer or whatever creator they are known as coz seriously, the CG's are horrendous. The story line suck and the acting is simply banglad style. Even bangladesh can acted better. Im not saying I can act or direct but its a 1st rated title however the movie turned to a 3rd rated film instead. How sad..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I continue my little movie escapade with Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Another rom-com film. Definitely a movie to watch. Its hilarious yet lovable. Yeap, I know, I suck with this kind of film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, lastly I end the marathon with the movie Indiana Jones 3. So yea. Later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-6846217512111961153?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6846217512111961153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/6846217512111961153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/10/desolated-thoughts.html' title='Movie Marathon'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-148208915611649802</id><published>2008-10-04T07:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T17:13:07.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Mood!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Shopping, eating and more eating! Finally with P.O.P over and a new leash of hell gonna break loose (soon enough), the least now is to savor all remaining free time. As per norm, went out and had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swensen's was last week. This week I was hoping to get some seafood but turns out we had mamak's instead. Our day started late, very late but nevertheless we still did go outla furthermore its Mimi's birthday hence staying at home is out of the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont wish to go into detail but yea, we really had fun. With Muhit around nothing seem normal and the day just got crazier and crazier. Anyways Im going out again today. Do a little bit more shopping and the rest of the day, I shall leave it to my stomach. Seriously, quiting has made me soo hungry but Im telling ya, I do miss them seh.. Haiz.. Ciggie.. Ciggie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kk. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKiTTpqI/AAAAAAAAAUk/1g5jCSEGDJw/s1600-h/Cheese!004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKiTTpqI/AAAAAAAAAUk/1g5jCSEGDJw/s200/Cheese!004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253223746450466466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKqvxcNI/AAAAAAAAAUs/okI3HdEuT7U/s1600-h/Cheese!013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKqvxcNI/AAAAAAAAAUs/okI3HdEuT7U/s200/Cheese!013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253223748717342930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKrjEL7I/AAAAAAAAAU0/kasxUmtZL5E/s1600-h/Cheese!017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKrjEL7I/AAAAAAAAAU0/kasxUmtZL5E/s200/Cheese!017.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253223748932480946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKs5LwvI/AAAAAAAAAU8/RAwL6i_CA_M/s1600-h/Cheese!032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKs5LwvI/AAAAAAAAAU8/RAwL6i_CA_M/s200/Cheese!032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253223749293687538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKyR2HwI/AAAAAAAAAVE/CsgMZJ7z3fo/s1600-h/Cheese!029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKyR2HwI/AAAAAAAAAVE/CsgMZJ7z3fo/s200/Cheese!029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253223750739304194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyV7S23vI/AAAAAAAAAT8/M9ySgMI29Mk/s1600-h/Cheese!002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyV7S23vI/AAAAAAAAAT8/M9ySgMI29Mk/s200/Cheese!002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253222842626399986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyVwloLyI/AAAAAAAAAUE/Qme6WQVZOiY/s1600-h/Cheese!003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyVwloLyI/AAAAAAAAAUE/Qme6WQVZOiY/s200/Cheese!003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253222839752339234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyWHy3tKI/AAAAAAAAAUM/wtHSTm066U4/s1600-h/Cheese!010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyWHy3tKI/AAAAAAAAAUM/wtHSTm066U4/s200/Cheese!010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253222845981897890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyWFVLIjI/AAAAAAAAAUU/kTigHxhuU_8/s1600-h/Cheese!011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyWFVLIjI/AAAAAAAAAUU/kTigHxhuU_8/s200/Cheese!011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253222845320471090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyWCxCUuI/AAAAAAAAAUc/EHpdxzGcepY/s1600-h/Cheese!012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOcyWCxCUuI/AAAAAAAAAUc/EHpdxzGcepY/s200/Cheese!012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253222844632027874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh btw, dont bother watching Wujud 2. Better to make your own wujud instead. Hah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-148208915611649802?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/148208915611649802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/148208915611649802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/10/holiday-mood.html' title='Holiday Mood!'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOczKiTTpqI/AAAAAAAAAUk/1g5jCSEGDJw/s72-c/Cheese!004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7322571053780480724</id><published>2008-09-30T21:02:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T22:00:09.987+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day of Sincerity..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;As of today, the last day of Ramadhan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It has pass us and like us, we shall too pass by one day." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was what my nenek told me earlier. No one can stop death, if its our time, it will be and so I laid there, beside her and smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..Yes, of all day, I 'hate' Hari Raya the most. Not because of the joy but the sadness within. The faces of smile - that broken smile of theirs; knowing how the family is breaking apart, knowing the problems and knowingly understand that some things keep repeating by itself. The old has seen too many and Im sure all they wish for is things to be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why do people always wait for this day to ask for forgiveness? I mean where is the sincerity if we have to wait? Shouldnt it be something that is spontaneous and comes wholeheartedly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok. Looks like I got carried away. Gotta stop this angryness-cum-questioning-cum-crap-emo-stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I want this day to be a momento of life and so I shall. With that been said, Selamat Hari Raya! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giving, Kindness, Loving, Patience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIvLeUJjmI/AAAAAAAAAT0/Djp7ezvmReY/s1600-h/Cheese!022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIvLeUJjmI/AAAAAAAAAT0/Djp7ezvmReY/s200/Cheese!022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251811989630062178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIuF6q0qoI/AAAAAAAAATU/lSLczDd-sQA/s1600-h/DSC00192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIuF6q0qoI/AAAAAAAAATU/lSLczDd-sQA/s200/DSC00192.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251810794650512002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIuF1yZgtI/AAAAAAAAATc/UmM5sAwP4XQ/s1600-h/DSC00184.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIuF1yZgtI/AAAAAAAAATc/UmM5sAwP4XQ/s200/DSC00184.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251810793340109522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIuGci1N8I/AAAAAAAAATs/fTBMuLvt0FQ/s1600-h/DSC00196.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIuGci1N8I/AAAAAAAAATs/fTBMuLvt0FQ/s200/DSC00196.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251810803743799234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7322571053780480724?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7322571053780480724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7322571053780480724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-of-sincerity.html' title='The Day of Sincerity..'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qnUcgPIS9dM/SOIvLeUJjmI/AAAAAAAAAT0/Djp7ezvmReY/s72-c/Cheese!022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-4055160133575432179</id><published>2008-09-27T17:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:28:47.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebra-shion!</title><content type='html'>Its a double trouble this coming week! Hari Raya and P.O.P. Weee! Hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it shall begin with a speech, and end with a badge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The day has come my men, its time for us to rejoice and be merry!". Yes, let me emphasize the word "&lt;strong&gt;my men&lt;/strong&gt;". Hehh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wont go in details but lets just say, its a treble for me instead. :)&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok. Lets continue, shall we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the ordeal has finally end, I decided to partay all night long, and hell I did - All night long. Erm.. Shit, STM. Hah! Cant remember what I didla. Maybe due to the reason that Im still awake at this time of the day. Oh mind you, Ive yet taken my firefighter sleep yet since like Thursday so Im a little out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Im extending the crazyness till 2145 just before I book in. So I shall have my rest now and continue this coming Tuesday aite. Probably with pictures! Chireos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-4055160133575432179?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4055160133575432179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/4055160133575432179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/09/celebrasi-on.html' title='Celebra-shion!'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-258198777561173944</id><published>2008-09-21T12:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:44:17.987+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shit Happens.</title><content type='html'>It doesnt just happen to one person, mind you, everyone shits. So yesterday, I had a major update on alot of my close friends and guess what, shit happens to everyone and yes the shit definitely differs in sizes and colors too. Hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never really get into the details but we do have a vivid idea on how shitty each of us are in. Reminiscing the good ol days doesnt really help much either. Time was a concern for me, money in the other hand was alot bigger for most of us so all we did was smile and ponder how shit was formed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one was interested in finding the answer nor bothered to even ask any. Solving do take a different path once you reach that age. Weird that the things you thought you likely hold on to, slowly slipped away and became just another page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we had a tiny 'slumber' party at my house. Yes, strangely enough everyone just feel like chilling here instead of out there. Hmm.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusion: Looks like I wasnt the only one who's exhausted... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wells, I thought I could have a decent Hari Raya this year but complications never fail to make things worst. Sadly, Both worlds are now at lost. Hopefully itll untwine on its on, even a little to simply give me some slack for a good memory. I do deserve some goodness, people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-258198777561173944?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/258198777561173944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/258198777561173944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/09/shit-happens.html' title='Shit Happens.'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-7989610016847996767</id><published>2008-09-14T04:40:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T13:46:56.429+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Thing..</title><content type='html'>.. I hate about being single is the inaccessibility of a constant shoulder. Its a pain when you dont know who to turn to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up by learning to take it all in like a man incapacitate my ability to talk it out to my family. Being raised in a split parental livelihood doesnt help much either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the repetitive of events and the ever changing of times - so are the closeness between your friends. They have ears but hear not; paradox i say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a Saturday and with limited time on my hands, all I could think of was to spend it with anyone who was willing to spare a little time and turn my day around. Unfortunately, my idea of a chill back Saturday flushed down just like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the day itself was unmanageable. Maybe, I was too busy spelling unnecessary context for the day. Or perhaps I was too engrossed with my own pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For what its worth, all seem to take a course of its own. The only words that I could relay out are being type instead. How sad and pathetic could this get? Bahh.. Sunday's here anyway, so time to re-live the agony yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Wake me up when September ends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-7989610016847996767?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7989610016847996767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/7989610016847996767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-thing.html' title='One Thing..'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4725421524869815526.post-2459672124740089714</id><published>2008-09-12T23:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T04:46:20.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ETA - 2 Weeks?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday really suck. The things that I hoped for turned out to be a disappointment. Its weird that my misfortune comes every after my payday. Pathetically spoken, its true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st of all, today was my final IPPT thus I was prepared and ready to make it a good one. With both of my previous IPPT landing me with Gold, I had the confidence that Ill achieve the same results. To my morning horror, The last event and that is the sickening 2.4km was cancelled just when we were about to run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2ndly, when I got back to my dorm with that shitty feeling that I have to redo everything all over again next week, I had a message from my cousin fucking me up for delaying of borrowed stuff. To worsen it up, he disrespect his one and only cousin who was always helping him with his shit and unfortunately I couldnt take it anymore. I had my final call to severe ties with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exaggerating a lil? I know, but everything happens for a reason and so is this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rdly which simultaneously happen with the 2nd news was the notice of guard duty. Of all days, it has to be Saturday. On top of that I had to return the borrowed stuff which (just so everyone knows) is a damn cd that doesnt even make sense to ever be in placed as an ultimatum reason for my actions but well, it did. Adding to the cd is a gift cardigan which so happens, someone lost it; addng to my cash misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4thly, or lastly. I had no cash to get a transport back and I received a $50 summon as well as that cardigan which cost about $100. Actually theres more like my poor performance during my Firemen-Ship Competition Training (FSCT) due to 1st event and my one and only earpiece got crushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually to fucked it up and done with, I just had a bad day. So appologize for this unnecessary post which I just need to let it out. Thank you and hopefully you have a nicer day than mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4725421524869815526-2459672124740089714?l=firinprogress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2459672124740089714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4725421524869815526/posts/default/2459672124740089714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firinprogress.blogspot.com/2008/09/eta-2-weeks.html' title='ETA - 2 Weeks?'/><author><name>fir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01292377184067802091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
