<?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-7689533</id><updated>2012-02-13T02:10:32.487+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break Free</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>735</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-951969302063450456</id><published>2012-01-22T10:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T10:43:57.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates So Far...</title><content type='html'>Okay, recently I've been busy to blog or rather I've got pretty much nothing to blog about except to complain about my work.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dustbin blue bird monster who can't stop making noise:  &lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eItpEPSJzkI/Txt2AB6VgJI/AAAAAAAAFK0/PzTHQZ4Plag/s320/bin.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700279496252686482" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Slimy scared bold monster who just keeps pointing at everyone else except itself:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CJzZnBiOXcw/Txt2AZxfpKI/AAAAAAAAFK8/HvqvnYsaKwk/s320/slime.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 170px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700279502658053282" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note, I'll be going Genting to celebrate my birthday with my lovely hamham!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6R3Djxwmo8/Txt3vhL7xcI/AAAAAAAAFLM/H5KPXo8l4KM/s320/Genting1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700281411613476290" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-951969302063450456?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/951969302063450456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/951969302063450456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2012/01/updates-so-far.html' title='Updates So Far...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eItpEPSJzkI/Txt2AB6VgJI/AAAAAAAAFK0/PzTHQZ4Plag/s72-c/bin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6088367222244575831</id><published>2011-12-01T23:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T23:49:04.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed!</title><content type='html'>Alamak! i zun zun miss the whole month of nov never blog... shall slot a post in there somewhere later..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6088367222244575831?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6088367222244575831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6088367222244575831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/12/missed.html' title='Missed!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6845452969881041326</id><published>2011-12-01T23:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T23:26:50.979+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know what I want for my wallpaper le..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qdAhWZsYLVw/TteY-fLiBBI/AAAAAAAAFKo/-zyocAGjeMc/s1600/AnnChoo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qdAhWZsYLVw/TteY-fLiBBI/AAAAAAAAFKo/-zyocAGjeMc/s320/AnnChoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681177654240347154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moon Over My Heart 月亮代表谁的心&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="320" height="215" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/24vgQMgGWeA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6845452969881041326?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6845452969881041326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6845452969881041326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-know-what-i-want-for-my-wallpaper-le.html' title='I know what I want for my wallpaper le..'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qdAhWZsYLVw/TteY-fLiBBI/AAAAAAAAFKo/-zyocAGjeMc/s72-c/AnnChoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-615406632433457708</id><published>2011-11-11T11:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T00:09:50.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1111111111</title><content type='html'>It's 11 / 11 / 11, 11.11am. So many people got married today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asians: &lt;a href="http://sg.news.yahoo.com/rush-marry-chinas-singles-day-11-11-xinhua-171054443.html"&gt;http://sg.news.yahoo.com/rush-marry-chinas-singles-day-11-11-xinhua-171054443.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang Mo: &lt;a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-11-11/couples-marry-the-1-on-11-11-11-/3659674"&gt;http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-11-11/couples-marry-the-1-on-11-11-11-/3659674&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/offbeat/story/2011-11-10/111111-lucky-day/51160006/1"&gt;http://www.usatoday.com/news/offbeat/story/2011-11-10/111111-lucky-day/51160006/1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2011/11/10/why-more-people-marry-on-11-november-2011_n_1087510.html"&gt;http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2011/11/10/why-more-people-marry-on-11-november-2011_n_1087510.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to also.. but no money to... so I wanted at least earn 111111 which i didn't also... but I'm near to my 11111 though.. hehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-615406632433457708?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/615406632433457708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/615406632433457708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/11/1111111111.html' title='1111111111'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-401091387687807765</id><published>2011-10-31T01:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T23:28:24.902+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Prayer</title><content type='html'>Loving Father, please be with the new Christians in our church. Use me to be a source of encouragement to them and strength for them. May my life always be a positive influence on them and other new Christians as well. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-401091387687807765?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/401091387687807765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/401091387687807765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/10/little-prayer.html' title='A Little Prayer'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1753669783331557180</id><published>2011-10-13T09:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T11:23:55.955+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Course cancelled.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nsKSdwXkih0/TpZGZGfrlmI/AAAAAAAAFKI/LTXyFZHKq0c/s1600/cancelled.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 162px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nsKSdwXkih0/TpZGZGfrlmI/AAAAAAAAFKI/LTXyFZHKq0c/s320/cancelled.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662790978519144034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little update people. A little bump in the road again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My course @ TMC under University of Greenwich cancelled the course due to lack of headcount. Almost wanted to refund me half only... but my gf help me make noise so i'm getting full refund though it's still not alot...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had to change school now... looking into SIM for the same course under University of Wollongong... see if I can get into the final year anot... else I may pick another route...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1753669783331557180?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1753669783331557180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1753669783331557180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/10/little-update-people.html' title='My Course cancelled.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nsKSdwXkih0/TpZGZGfrlmI/AAAAAAAAFKI/LTXyFZHKq0c/s72-c/cancelled.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5028894499692082183</id><published>2011-09-10T10:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T10:17:29.319+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ET and religion</title><content type='html'>Learnt some interesting things from Sam yesterday about ET and religion... shall research further... I like this topic.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something along the line that, how come all the religion story like almost the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture to illustrate how the beginning of time might have come about.&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcEQ_hCMkhQ/TmrIYEXHOFI/AAAAAAAAFKA/uBApcy_K0so/s1600/alien_god.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcEQ_hCMkhQ/TmrIYEXHOFI/AAAAAAAAFKA/uBApcy_K0so/s320/alien_god.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650548998302808146" style="cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5028894499692082183?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5028894499692082183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5028894499692082183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/09/et-and-religion.html' title='ET and religion'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcEQ_hCMkhQ/TmrIYEXHOFI/AAAAAAAAFKA/uBApcy_K0so/s72-c/alien_god.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5746372734466495234</id><published>2011-09-10T09:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T10:09:43.989+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wierd Dream...</title><content type='html'>Dreamt I was out near a neighborhood area in Tampines then I encountered an immigrant who seems stoneage. He was in trouble said he had to make food for his pets. A short legged orange cat and this komodo dragon looking beast with black and white fur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He behaved strangely like a cave man and brought some dirt and bones together for his pets but I said no, that's not food and insist he was right until he was finally done and his pets came to smell the thing he made and shit in the bowl of "dirt food".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he became confused and I showed him the way across a small stone bridge where we reach this very Disney land kind of place and at the center, there was some sort of fair, I went to take a closer look and went one round to see amazing student projects where they made food fun to play with. There were electronic fish looking candies that behaved like real fishes in a fish tank. There was a shooting game where you can shoot little biscuit out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a few of my friends in this dream, there was Edmund from tp who made the gun thing. Then I dunno where the caveman went but I just went around myself and met upon yt and zj who were queuing up for the sniper game. Which lots of funny weird comments people behind me were saying to get people off the queue. I stay and play one shot. Then I left the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving the place, I suddenly went into this shopping center and I was with my gf! We were dating! felt nice... then we went to the movies in some really old theater and suddenly we were with a bigger group, total 5 including me and her. One of the group members had this strong influential power and the whole group follows her, who was a very short and fat, short hair butch. So at the end of the movie she wanted to influence the group to stand up the same time as her and I followed when she stood up but not the rest. She shouted "NATAS" when she stood up. I did the same but the rest didn't get up and she sat down. Then she tried again and this time the rest all followed accept me and the rest said she has more "NATAS" den me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up thinking what a weird dream... Like everything link like no link liddat... Shall find out what this dream is talking about another time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5746372734466495234?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5746372734466495234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5746372734466495234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/09/wierd-dream.html' title='Wierd Dream...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1350474277989140560</id><published>2011-09-05T06:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T06:31:40.414+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Need more Patience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-psbY3ZfWcoI/TmP8L7I7u_I/AAAAAAAAFJ4/LkRA6wzop0w/s1600/chickenpatience.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-psbY3ZfWcoI/TmP8L7I7u_I/AAAAAAAAFJ4/LkRA6wzop0w/s320/chickenpatience.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648635639436655602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need more patience!!!! haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1350474277989140560?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1350474277989140560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1350474277989140560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/09/need-more-patience.html' title='Need more Patience'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-psbY3ZfWcoI/TmP8L7I7u_I/AAAAAAAAFJ4/LkRA6wzop0w/s72-c/chickenpatience.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2061810924549102774</id><published>2011-09-02T00:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T00:23:24.585+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling in Place</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gAAzRwpwSRM/Tl-uziWspjI/AAAAAAAAFJo/XXdyxiBdxCI/s1600/fall-into-place.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gAAzRwpwSRM/Tl-uziWspjI/AAAAAAAAFJo/XXdyxiBdxCI/s320/fall-into-place.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647424658164459058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At times when you feel like thing are falling apart, look again because in fact they may be falling into place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday and for some time ever since I step into this, I call it the Olega Mt Dungeon. I've been treated like a prisoner of some sort. Everything seems to be falling apart, yesterday was super jialat I almost cried while I explain the situation I'm in. So thank God, I had a very smart meimei who has great IQ and EQ to listened to my thoughts aloud and help me to conclude and realise what is really important and what I should do. So I decided. I took action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm so happy. Cos from one moment everything that seems to be falling apart, suddenly falls in place perfectly. I shall share the details of the good news another time. clock strikes 12. GTG! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God. You still love me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2061810924549102774?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2061810924549102774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2061810924549102774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/09/falling-in-place.html' title='Falling in Place'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gAAzRwpwSRM/Tl-uziWspjI/AAAAAAAAFJo/XXdyxiBdxCI/s72-c/fall-into-place.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1332149778331352159</id><published>2011-08-20T11:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T11:29:25.171+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Immigrant Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ejZa0h3DVtg/Tk8mvBCV4QI/AAAAAAAAFJg/iBlyIjw39To/s1600/immigrationq-768063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ejZa0h3DVtg/Tk8mvBCV4QI/AAAAAAAAFJg/iBlyIjw39To/s320/immigrationq-768063.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642771447292485890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another bad dream... I dreamt that I was going home from dunno where, probably batam. Then the counter stopped me and said I was holding a fake passport and they wouldn't let me through. The counter lady gave a disgusted look and called me "Another batam immigrant" and told me to take your ticket and go back to where you came from I was insulted and thought maybe the machine spiolt and confuse as to how am I to go back if I don't have a ticket to board the ferry. Then I'd be stuck in between. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just went to another counter and the same thing happened. But this time my family were with me and they tried to help me talk. Then something wierd happened. There was thing blutac thingy. The counter lady, a different one, took a funny looking cane stick and whack the blutac thing which belonged to each person's identity of some sort and popped out a pill. Like the cold medicine shape and white color. Somehow I knew that it belonged to my mom and they were like transfering it to me. Then I ask my mom how? They say nvm, don't worry. It's because ur identity have expired, your mom will help you to renew yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stunned as I continue to watch how she makes the transferring cos she was moulding the blutac thing into many shapes and color, green the orange and into a honeycomb. The melding process somehow had some problem and the pill just didn't get mixed in so she called for help... I was still in a state of confusion and I woke up suddenly going... what the **** was that all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1332149778331352159?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1332149778331352159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1332149778331352159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/immigrant-dream.html' title='Immigrant Dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ejZa0h3DVtg/Tk8mvBCV4QI/AAAAAAAAFJg/iBlyIjw39To/s72-c/immigrationq-768063.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8768050035501126566</id><published>2011-08-17T10:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T10:30:53.164+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Many Room Dream/Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RygXdXk9dsE/Tksg9TzXidI/AAAAAAAAFJY/9wneXlObQ20/s1600/houseofmanyrooms.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RygXdXk9dsE/Tksg9TzXidI/AAAAAAAAFJY/9wneXlObQ20/s320/houseofmanyrooms.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641639195871513042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This wasn't really a dream in the end, it became a nightmare! I was trying to go home in this dream, and through a door which led to a room, it was a simple room. I went to sleep in the room and woke up then I went to open the other door on the other side of the room and end up in another room, it was a big room, bigger than my whole house combined. There were 2 idiots dressed in ninja black telling me to keep quiet, they wanna steal stuff. So I went back to the door where I came from but when I opened it, I ended up in someone else's room. There was this old wizard looking man who was combing his beard or something so I closed the door feeling confused. I was still in the big room with the 2 idiots and went ahead to the other side of the room to the other door which brought me to another similar simple room where I lied down to sleep but couldn't take the smell of the bed, it belonged to some army boy's smell, very smelly. So I went back to the door and realized it was still the same big room, the 2 idiots still snooping ard but didn't talk to me, so i went ahead and hope to get back to my simple room to sleep but this time it was locked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then suddenly, the 2 idiots went to hide cos somehow they knew the owner was coming home. The owners, 2 giant malay dudes 3 times my size and slightly taller than me came into their home and greeted me like they know me or they're just being friendly then they realize something is wrong and started scanning the place with some weird device that produce fire on one end but did not burn anything. With that, they found a notebook that belonged to one of the idiots, they become furious and I don't know why I started running ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Through the many doors and rooms until I found a room where I saw my gf, she was dead, she had a big hole in the middle of her chest like she was stabbed by a pipe. The blood was dry, it wasn't bloody, her skin was healthy, her eyes was opened, but she was motionless and silent. I panicked run to her grab her and try to convinced myself she is alive then I realized I was in a room filled with her, like clones, and all dead... Then I heard some weird music and was awoken in cold sweat by the awful song ka music downstairs... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8768050035501126566?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8768050035501126566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8768050035501126566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/many-room-dreamnightmare.html' title='Many Room Dream/Nightmare'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RygXdXk9dsE/Tksg9TzXidI/AAAAAAAAFJY/9wneXlObQ20/s72-c/houseofmanyrooms.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-39875528559361615</id><published>2011-08-15T02:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T02:16:53.065+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iBgbiPkdHHQ/TkgQ6lZmIFI/AAAAAAAAFJQ/lS520mrEPL4/s1600/Photo0046.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iBgbiPkdHHQ/TkgQ6lZmIFI/AAAAAAAAFJQ/lS520mrEPL4/s320/Photo0046.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640777131939471442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today my gf made me pasta... yummy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-39875528559361615?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/39875528559361615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/39875528559361615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-day.html' title='Happy Day!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iBgbiPkdHHQ/TkgQ6lZmIFI/AAAAAAAAFJQ/lS520mrEPL4/s72-c/Photo0046.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6929903202009388337</id><published>2011-08-13T12:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T12:31:39.607+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Avoid Getting Nightmares</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;header class="header" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: block; "&gt;&lt;h1 id="nointelliTXT" class="articleTitle Heading1" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: normal; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: Georgia; vertical-align: baseline; letter-spacing: -1px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/header&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;figure class="Thumbnail articlePhoto" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: block; float: left; width: 225px; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://i.ehow.com/images/a00/01/js/avoid-getting-nightmares-800x800.jpg" type="modal" content="Avoid Getting Nightmares" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none; color: rgb(111, 166, 2); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.ehowcdn.com/article-page-main/ehow/images/a00/01/js/avoid-getting-nightmares-800x800.jpg" alt="How to Avoid Getting Nightmaresthumbnail" title="Avoid Getting Nightmares" class="photo" longdesc="http://i.ehow.com/images/a00/01/js/avoid-getting-nightmares-800x800.jpg" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-top-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-right-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/figure&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;Many nightmares are caused by a traumatic event such as the loss of a loved one, a physical illness, stress or even prescription medication. Follow these tips to sweet dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;figure class="Thumbnail articlePhoto" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: block; float: left; width: 225px; "&gt;&lt;figcaption class="Note caption" style="font-size: 11px; display: block; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); margin-top: 2px; "&gt;Avoid Getting Nightmares&lt;/figcaption&gt;&lt;/figure&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;section class="Module body FLC" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: block; clear: both; "&gt;&lt;h2 class="Underline sectionTitle Heading2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 30px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: normal; font-style: inherit; font-size: 24px; font-family: Georgia; vertical-align: baseline; letter-spacing: -1px; "&gt;&lt;span class="line" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 7px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 24px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;Instructions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;section style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: block; "&gt;&lt;ol id="intelliTxt" class="steps" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;li class="section" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Relax before bedtime. Meditate, take a hot bath, drink herbal tea or do mild stretching exercises.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Clear your mind of worries. Make a list of problems and possible solutions, and then look at them the next day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Avoid watching the evening news, horror movies or movies with graphic violence right before bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Eat a light snack such as milk or yogurt. Both contain calcium and tryptophan, which can have a relaxing effect.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Avoid fatty and spicy foods, which could cause gas and, in turn, nightmares.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Give up smoking. Nicotine has been linked to certain sleep disorders.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Stop using any drugs that are not essential to your health and well-being.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: left; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "&gt;&lt;span class="stepNumber" style="margin-top: -3px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 30px; font-family: serif; vertical-align: baseline; float: left; min-height: 35px; color: rgb(142, 189, 47); "&gt;8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="stepMeat" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 35px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;div itemprop="step" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-family: sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.4; "&gt;Write down your nightmare when you wake up in a dream journal. Try to figure out how it relates to your life at present to prevent it from recurring.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/section&gt;&lt;/section&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6929903202009388337?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6929903202009388337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6929903202009388337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/how-to-avoid-getting-nightmares-many.html' title='How to Avoid Getting Nightmares'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4336568888560779948</id><published>2011-08-08T11:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T11:34:21.270+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready to climb mountain dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufhP-coLWRE/Tj9WKrd2pUI/AAAAAAAAFJI/uz02WusguY4/s1600/steep_climbing_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufhP-coLWRE/Tj9WKrd2pUI/AAAAAAAAFJI/uz02WusguY4/s320/steep_climbing_lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638319999957771586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a dream that I was in army and was selected for having the best endurance or tolerance level in the company and was given a special challenge to climb a 30km high mountain. I started making preparation for the climb, wore an extra sweater in my t-shirt. Calculated the rough distance and mentally psyche myself up for the climb. Then just when I was about start the climb I realized I made an error in my calculation, I actually had to walk a total of 60km oppose to the 30km because I had to climb back down which made me feel unprepared. Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;My Interpretations&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that I am about to encounter a great challenge which I may have underestimated the difficulty. On the bright side, I have finally reach the mountain after a long journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4336568888560779948?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4336568888560779948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4336568888560779948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/ready-to-climb-mountain-dream.html' title='Ready to climb mountain dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufhP-coLWRE/Tj9WKrd2pUI/AAAAAAAAFJI/uz02WusguY4/s72-c/steep_climbing_lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3973427526267593047</id><published>2011-08-06T00:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T00:37:05.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Got no money, no money</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGnAnvMZwGE/TjwabFlnSEI/AAAAAAAAFJA/oIXyNQJsQqY/s1600/No-Money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGnAnvMZwGE/TjwabFlnSEI/AAAAAAAAFJA/oIXyNQJsQqY/s320/No-Money.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637409886219749442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siao liao... my bank left only 54 bucks for now till 20th... how on earth did this happen??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I'm already halfway to my end of year goal! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="350" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aDb3VVp7w20" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3973427526267593047?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3973427526267593047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3973427526267593047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/got-no-money.html' title='Got no money, no money'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGnAnvMZwGE/TjwabFlnSEI/AAAAAAAAFJA/oIXyNQJsQqY/s72-c/No-Money.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8150670118558923928</id><published>2011-08-01T10:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T10:58:10.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Praying for you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--a9O631w-_Y/TjYVcwSjBbI/AAAAAAAAFI4/-zcGMAAI7NM/s1600/prayer%2B%25281%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--a9O631w-_Y/TjYVcwSjBbI/AAAAAAAAFI4/-zcGMAAI7NM/s320/prayer%2B%25281%2529.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635715567443969458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Heavenly Father, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come forth you with great sadness, faith and hope. I believe you already know why. So I pray you would heal her this very hour on earth. In Jesus Christ name I pray, amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8150670118558923928?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8150670118558923928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8150670118558923928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/praying-for-you.html' title='Praying for you'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--a9O631w-_Y/TjYVcwSjBbI/AAAAAAAAFI4/-zcGMAAI7NM/s72-c/prayer%2B%25281%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7871127585595642291</id><published>2011-08-01T00:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T01:04:02.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You Ready For Love?</title><content type='html'>A good relationship isn't a game you play or an ego trip you take. It is about love and two people. Loving someone can give us the greatest joy we can ever know and it can hurt more than we can believe too. When it does not really hurt when that person did something disappointing to you, but really hurts when you see that person in pain and sadness, then you know you truly love that person.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving someone means you should be ready to experience heartache and happiness at the same time. That's the reward and that's the risk. Unless we are willing to experience it, we will never really know what it's like to love and be loved.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharing love is probably the most valuable and meaningful experience a person can ever have. And there's a difference between being in love with someone and loving someone. It's the difference between a love that's fickle, wild and short-lived and one that's tender and passionate, nurturing and lasts a long time. The first is easy. The second, the one that really matters to all of us, takes work -- because it's about keeping a relationship.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving someone takes efforts. We have to be able to communicate with each other. Nobody can read anyone else's mind. We always presume that our partner knows what we think and feel. Maybe in time we might be able to predict or sense each other's thoughts but it's never perfect and takes time to develop.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting the chance to love and be loved by someone is blessed. Respect him/her for who he/she is, and not what you want him/her to be. Everyone is pretty and special in his/her own special way. No one is perfect. It is true love, which closes the gap of imperfectness to form a smooth surface of acceptance for each other. True love sees and accepts a person for who he/she is. It is also true love, which makes a person change for the better.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The power of true love to a person is undeniable.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A relationship needs commitments too. What is love without commitments from each other anyway? It's like principles and values. Everyone has them but they only mean as much as we are willing to stand for them.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same goes for our commitments to relationships, and the person we love.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love is like an antique vase. It's hard to find, hard to get, but easy to break."   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day everywhere, people fall in love ... but just how many of these relationships are self-sacrificing love, and not just relationships which are formed only for the intense feeling of falling in love? I know hundreds of friends who say the magical words "I love you"... but more often than not, the truth is just -- I am IN love with you. There is a difference between being in love with someone and loving someone. If a person says he/she is in love with you, he/she means that he/she likes you for who you are now and he/she fell in love with you because of the present you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This kind of love is temporary and lasts only as long as the fairytale lasts. When fairy godmother comes in at midnight to whirl us back to reality, we see the heartache of such a relationship... where both were only IN love with each other.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if a person says he/she loves you, he/she means that he/she loves you unconditionally for who you are now, who you were in the past and who you might be in the future. When he/she says he/she loves you and really means it, you have to ask yourself if you love him/her too or if you're in love with the idea of being in love. It is very hard to see the difference through logical thinking. Let your heart guide you. May you be blessed on your soul-searching journey for your soulmate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today I'm proud to say I love Ann Choo, and despite her past I still love her and finally, this weekend after having much thoughts of the worst and realize I will love her no matter what happens in the future...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7871127585595642291?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7871127585595642291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7871127585595642291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/08/are-you-ready-for-love.html' title='Are You Ready For Love?'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2134396346206631068</id><published>2011-07-28T06:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T06:21:38.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a sick puppy yo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8cvOQ52jyuM/TjCPGWnxuaI/AAAAAAAAFIw/mIGA35HGsq4/s1600/sick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 305px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8cvOQ52jyuM/TjCPGWnxuaI/AAAAAAAAFIw/mIGA35HGsq4/s320/sick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634160473154894242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday after work I felt sick... and wanted to just go home sleep but my mom ask me to go see doctor so I decided I should. Suddenly I felt this painful lonely feeling... but my gf decided to give up her appt for me. To accompany me to see the doctor, the lonely feeling gone! I still felt weak though. So my speed became slow motion. She accomodated my speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was heartfelt. Though generally all my senses seems to have weaken but I could still feel her love when she sayang my face, my chest, my back and my hands, when she checking if I'm okay, when she rushed ahead to check if the nearby clinics accept Aviva, when she took the big risk of getting my germs and hugged me, and of cos when she didn't hit me when I was irritating. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel sick today but I must go to work...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2134396346206631068?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2134396346206631068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2134396346206631068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/sick-dog.html' title='I&apos;m a sick puppy yo!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8cvOQ52jyuM/TjCPGWnxuaI/AAAAAAAAFIw/mIGA35HGsq4/s72-c/sick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1310142197223201429</id><published>2011-07-27T00:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T00:35:06.981+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brandy - Right Here (Departed)</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="380" height="240" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/vzwoJ10UyO0?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you feel your heart's guarded&lt;br /&gt;And you see the break's started&lt;br /&gt;When the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B rock, uh, Darkchild&lt;br /&gt;We back&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, oh, oh)&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your life is going too fast&lt;br /&gt;Off the train tracks&lt;br /&gt;I can slow it down, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you think your bout to turn back&lt;br /&gt;'Stead you might crash&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your ground, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh when you feel your heart's guarded&lt;br /&gt;And you see the break's started&lt;br /&gt;And when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when your tears are dry from crying&lt;br /&gt;And when the world has turned silent&lt;br /&gt;And when the clouds have all Departed&lt;br /&gt;You will be right here with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;I will be right here with you&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;I will be right here with you&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your trapped and there's just no key&lt;br /&gt;And you can't breathe&lt;br /&gt;I breathe for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fire's got you down on both knees&lt;br /&gt;And the walls are closing in&lt;br /&gt;But I will break it through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you feel alone&lt;br /&gt;I'm a be your home&lt;br /&gt;Whenevers comes and go&lt;br /&gt;You know I got you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh when you feel your heart's guarded&lt;br /&gt;And when you see the break's started&lt;br /&gt;[ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/b/brandy-lyrics/right-here-(Departed)-lyrics.html ]&lt;br /&gt;And when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You'll see the sun)&lt;br /&gt;And when your tears are dry from crying&lt;br /&gt;And when the worlds turned silent&lt;br /&gt;So when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You will be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be here right beside you&lt;br /&gt;Every step you take, yea&lt;br /&gt;I will be your strength, your shelter&lt;br /&gt;Shield you from the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh when you feel)&lt;br /&gt;Oh when you feel your heart's guarded&lt;br /&gt;And when you see the break's started&lt;br /&gt;And when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when your tears are dry from crying&lt;br /&gt;And when the worlds turned silent&lt;br /&gt;So when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You will be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh when you feel your heart's guarded&lt;br /&gt;And when you see the break's started&lt;br /&gt;And when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when your tears are dry from crying&lt;br /&gt;And when the worlds turned silent&lt;br /&gt;So when the clouds have all departed&lt;br /&gt;You will be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be right here with you&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;I will be right here with you&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be right here with you&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me&lt;br /&gt;I will be right here with you&lt;br /&gt;You'll be right here with me, yea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1310142197223201429?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1310142197223201429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1310142197223201429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/brandy-right-here-departed.html' title='Brandy - Right Here (Departed)'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/vzwoJ10UyO0/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-365930124477011551</id><published>2011-07-27T00:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T00:20:41.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's controlling our brains?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5CxyxI3R6sw/Ti7og-sn14I/AAAAAAAAFIo/NlpiJa0dYeA/s1600/BlackDotIllusion_1000.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5CxyxI3R6sw/Ti7og-sn14I/AAAAAAAAFIo/NlpiJa0dYeA/s320/BlackDotIllusion_1000.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633695837170685826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long time never blog le... was surfing the web and found this! An optical illusion with black dots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's our mind playing tricks on us. I hate it! I can't believe OUR MIND is actually playing tricks on US! Like we have no control over our mind liddat... Then who's controlling our minds if not us?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-365930124477011551?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/365930124477011551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/365930124477011551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/whos-controlling-our-brains.html' title='Who&apos;s controlling our brains?'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5CxyxI3R6sw/Ti7og-sn14I/AAAAAAAAFIo/NlpiJa0dYeA/s72-c/BlackDotIllusion_1000.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-9026386923975851458</id><published>2011-07-14T01:15:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T01:49:29.295+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not emo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zSaCoqS6KUc/Th3SyIZrnoI/AAAAAAAAFIc/5fOqCQaNVSI/s1600/_em0ti0nAL_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zSaCoqS6KUc/Th3SyIZrnoI/AAAAAAAAFIc/5fOqCQaNVSI/s320/_em0ti0nAL_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628886867973480066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not emo, I just cry alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more eno nemo but the pain inside is really just too much... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm really not as patient as what you think I am... I've been apologizing so much... I don't even know why this time. I always apologize first when it hurts me too but now it's really too much... I tot too highly of myself... why can't you understand and trust that making you pissed or unhappy is the &lt;u&gt;last thing&lt;/u&gt; I ever want to do. I always try to make you happy because I really want you to be happy and thats the only thing I have on my mind when I'm with you... now you don't even give me a chance to rectify myself... I love you the way you are and I'm willing to change for you cos I love you and I know I'm not able to handle you but i'm doing my best to become that person who can but now I feel I'm not allowed to love you or you don't want me to love you anymore or am I loving you the wrong way?? o_O I'm truly confused!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling like this now because I've fallen really deep and every little action, words and even silence is affecting me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARGH! SNAP OUT OF IT ANDREW!! SNAP OUT OF IT!!! WHERE'S THE NO EMOTIONS ARE ALLOWED TO CONTROL YOU??!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SNAP OUT!! Chill... breathe... sleep... don't think about it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-9026386923975851458?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9026386923975851458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9026386923975851458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-not-emo.html' title='I&apos;m not emo.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zSaCoqS6KUc/Th3SyIZrnoI/AAAAAAAAFIc/5fOqCQaNVSI/s72-c/_em0ti0nAL_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5337812266909909685</id><published>2011-07-14T01:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T01:14:14.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Egg5DMLf_w/Th3QCOpWkYI/AAAAAAAAFIU/4zzAhSS7mYE/s1600/emo-pillow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 312px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Egg5DMLf_w/Th3QCOpWkYI/AAAAAAAAFIU/4zzAhSS7mYE/s320/emo-pillow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628883845992845698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm awake cos I'm affected cos I care cos I'm deeply in love... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lots more to write but I cannot have a reader who's gonna be affected so easily. I need to contemplate... my only source of self expression is being compromised... Can I really not say what I really feel like saying even here? How then can I release these suppressed feelings and words? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, last one before I migrate all negative thoughts to my private blog... which is an unwise move cos there's gonna be less communication and more miscommunication. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many first time... and today marks another first time... I cried the most times over a girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5337812266909909685?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5337812266909909685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5337812266909909685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t sleep'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Egg5DMLf_w/Th3QCOpWkYI/AAAAAAAAFIU/4zzAhSS7mYE/s72-c/emo-pillow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7589182861683866632</id><published>2011-07-14T00:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T00:46:09.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love doesn't hurt, it's miscomm that hurts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K0r6PwgSutk/Th3D4f6FG_I/AAAAAAAAFIM/KrFRImKeNVo/s1600/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 210px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K0r6PwgSutk/Th3D4f6FG_I/AAAAAAAAFIM/KrFRImKeNVo/s320/5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628870484688182258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If love too much equates to care alot so much to get pissed for the longest time ever and choose to stay pissed and not give a chance for the other to redeem themselves over ego, then I guess the receiving end would be so happy to be loved so much the heart that the heart exploded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this coming, I saw this in many relationships, I knew it was unavoidable yet I can't believe I had no clue how to deal with it... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scenario I'm talking about is, girl gets pissed off at guy for some reason the guy has absolutely no idea yet it seems that it seems like it's the most obvious thing to the girl that she expects him to see, guy tries to find out but doesn't have a clue which makes the girl even more pissed cos to her it's as big as a mountain but yet the guy doesn't see it which eventually boils down to what I always conclude as MISCOMMUNICATION!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or rather lack of communication... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever happened to "6 Keys to a good relationship: friendship, freedom, honesty, trust, understanding, and communication."???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened to "A true friend is the only one there when the whole world leaves you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened to "love is like flying a kite, hold to tight and the string breaks, too loose and it get blown away by the wind"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened to "honesty is the best policy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened to "the problem is they don't trust each other..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened to "Love allows understanding to dawn, and understanding is precious. Where you are understood, you are at home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happened to "we lack communication, we need to talk more..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7589182861683866632?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7589182861683866632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7589182861683866632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/love-doesnt-hurt-its-miscomm-that-hurts.html' title='Love doesn&apos;t hurt, it&apos;s miscomm that hurts.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K0r6PwgSutk/Th3D4f6FG_I/AAAAAAAAFIM/KrFRImKeNVo/s72-c/5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7228100634748309767</id><published>2011-07-08T06:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T06:15:23.137+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Castle Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dEHAK_nSEE4/ThYvBTfQR1I/AAAAAAAAFIE/oR1PWZdUB0o/s1600/Castle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dEHAK_nSEE4/ThYvBTfQR1I/AAAAAAAAFIE/oR1PWZdUB0o/s320/Castle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626736483903752018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreamt I was living in a castle and was upset about some regimental thing related to the army... can't quite remember other details of the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some talkative guy was bragging non-stop about something but I stood behind a corner, leaning on the wall and couldn't be bothered with what he said cos I just couldn't agree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7228100634748309767?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7228100634748309767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7228100634748309767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/castle-dream.html' title='Castle Dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dEHAK_nSEE4/ThYvBTfQR1I/AAAAAAAAFIE/oR1PWZdUB0o/s72-c/Castle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5630645546110318014</id><published>2011-07-02T00:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T01:00:39.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombified</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UEXvu6Sg2aQ/Tg36khJXV2I/AAAAAAAAFH8/xDP7fcEyIEE/s1600/tumblr_lk6axcCCnb1qh931ho1_500.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UEXvu6Sg2aQ/Tg36khJXV2I/AAAAAAAAFH8/xDP7fcEyIEE/s320/tumblr_lk6axcCCnb1qh931ho1_500.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624427014935500642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So so so so tired... slept around 3am and woke up around 5am... liddat how can... Thank God it's a Friday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel so zombie... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nite world! This zombie needs to Zzzz....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5630645546110318014?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5630645546110318014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5630645546110318014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/zombified.html' title='Zombified'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UEXvu6Sg2aQ/Tg36khJXV2I/AAAAAAAAFH8/xDP7fcEyIEE/s72-c/tumblr_lk6axcCCnb1qh931ho1_500.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2270731730539211009</id><published>2011-07-01T06:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T06:35:09.631+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow to speak</title><content type='html'>Listening and Doing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 19 My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,&lt;br /&gt;    20 for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James 1:19-20&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2270731730539211009?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2270731730539211009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2270731730539211009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/slow-to-speak.html' title='Slow to speak'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-9140841068941695805</id><published>2011-07-01T05:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T06:33:34.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 piercing instances</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2aBJUBG1OwI/TgzxrG190PI/AAAAAAAAFH0/Cd5rklq4wO0/s1600/your%252Clove%252Churts%252Cme%252Cwallpapers%252Cgraphic%252Cdesign%252Cheart%252Cillustration%252Cinspiration-6b88ce721bf1f2adaba6709708613652_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2aBJUBG1OwI/TgzxrG190PI/AAAAAAAAFH0/Cd5rklq4wO0/s320/your%252Clove%252Churts%252Cme%252Cwallpapers%252Cgraphic%252Cdesign%252Cheart%252Cillustration%252Cinspiration-6b88ce721bf1f2adaba6709708613652_h.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624135757552537842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm really the girl... I know I shouldn't be blogging this because a very important blog reader will be affected even if I ask her not to read, she still will but I also must get this out of my system to understand what is going on, 4get it and move on. These are unavoidable moments in life, the downs of a rollar coaster ride... But one thing different is I don't say and talk things out, it doesn't work for me either, I have to write them out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night on the phone I had 3 instances where I held my tears back, I had to pause and swallow it up else I would have said the wrong thing and hurt the one I love. People say the worst things when they are angry.&lt;br /&gt;I swallowed the first tear cos I was spoken to in a very upset tone yet I couldn't do the same cos that is not how I love someone. I felt unloved for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;The second and third tear was when I realize how helpless and useless I am when I knew I couldn't protect someone I love and I knew I couldn't do anything to the someone I love to make her feel happy. &lt;br /&gt;If you love someone, you would want them to be happy and carefree with no worries... especially when you're with them, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the quickest solution was to divert the topic... I manage to lighten up for a moment when I finally hear a hint of laughter through the phone, I could picture a real smile and that made me genuinely happy for the moment as well. I will try hard to hold on to this instead of the former cos bad memories are not worth holding on to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went to bath to cool myself down and told myself to not think about it, to not think so much but it didn't help cos these little moments were embed with emotions and much confusion. I always believe there is a cause for every effect but I couldn't find one at the moment. Therefore I always keep my emotions at bay, they are just do no good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always tell others to not cry, but in the end I'm the real cry baby when I finally tug into bed with the lights off, I burst into tears but cried quietly so to not let my family know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up but it seems the bad memories were still inside, I knew I had to write this down to make me feel better which it did... now I know why I don't write down the happy things cos I like to keep the happy things inside me while I throw out the bad ones. I cannot talk to people about sad moments because I know it will affect another. There is much power in our words. And great power comes with great responsibility. My verbal words must be used for value adding or for adding moments of happiness to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PEACE OUT! Feels good to blog! I'm good to go for work despite only having 2 hrs of sleep. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring it on world, you can't get me down that easily!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-9140841068941695805?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9140841068941695805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9140841068941695805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/07/3-piercing-instances.html' title='3 piercing instances'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2aBJUBG1OwI/TgzxrG190PI/AAAAAAAAFH0/Cd5rklq4wO0/s72-c/your%252Clove%252Churts%252Cme%252Cwallpapers%252Cgraphic%252Cdesign%252Cheart%252Cillustration%252Cinspiration-6b88ce721bf1f2adaba6709708613652_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6052817661317489898</id><published>2011-06-30T11:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T11:13:20.705+08:00</updated><title type='text'>when you say nothing at all- Ronan Keating</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="325" height="244" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AuJrEBtmM1Q?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; "&gt;It's amazing&lt;br /&gt;How you can speak&lt;br /&gt;Right to my heart&lt;br /&gt;Without saying a word,&lt;br /&gt;You can light up the dark&lt;br /&gt;Try as I may&lt;br /&gt;I could never explain&lt;br /&gt;What I hear when&lt;br /&gt;You don't say a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;[CHORUS:]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smile on your face&lt;br /&gt;Lets me know&lt;br /&gt;That you need me&lt;br /&gt;There's a truth&lt;br /&gt;In your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Saying you'll never leave me&lt;br /&gt;The touch of your hand says&lt;br /&gt;You'll catch me&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I fall&lt;br /&gt;You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day long&lt;br /&gt;I can hear people&lt;br /&gt;Talking out loud&lt;br /&gt;But when you hold me near&lt;br /&gt;You drown out the crowd&lt;br /&gt;(The crowd)&lt;br /&gt;Try as they may&lt;br /&gt;They could never define&lt;br /&gt;What's been said&lt;br /&gt;Between your&lt;br /&gt;Heart and mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;[Repeat chorus twice]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smile on your face&lt;br /&gt;The truth in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;The touch of your hand&lt;br /&gt;Let's me know&lt;br /&gt;That you need me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;[Repeat chorus]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smile on your face&lt;br /&gt;The truth in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;The touch of your hand&lt;br /&gt;Let's me know&lt;br /&gt;That you need me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;You say it best&lt;br /&gt;When you say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at all) &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/7689533-6052817661317489898?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6052817661317489898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6052817661317489898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-you-say-nothing-at-all-ronan.html' title='when you say nothing at all- Ronan Keating'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/AuJrEBtmM1Q/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4283818587222660243</id><published>2011-06-30T01:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T02:09:35.838+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture This</title><content type='html'>I'm a very picture person. And I need to picture things. I have photographic memory, of events. I like to talk about perspective because everyone has a different view. What seems to be may not really be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was browsing through the web and found some artworks that I like... my kind of style... I can't draw to that kind of style but I would very much like these pictures to be hung up in my house next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wandering Through The Snow Mountains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XGkXNyUcoA/Tgtmvkb2CZI/AAAAAAAAFHs/7I8vTVe-fCo/s1600/snow-environment.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XGkXNyUcoA/Tgtmvkb2CZI/AAAAAAAAFHs/7I8vTVe-fCo/s320/snow-environment.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701527122545042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XGkXNyUcoA/Tgtmvkb2CZI/AAAAAAAAFHs/7I8vTVe-fCo/s1600/snow-environment.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Little Girl with the Gentle Stone Golem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d0buICIcxEA/Tgtmm1o-0LI/AAAAAAAAFHk/pL7eO5fXB2Y/s1600/waterfall.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d0buICIcxEA/Tgtmm1o-0LI/AAAAAAAAFHk/pL7eO5fXB2Y/s320/waterfall.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701377122226354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d0buICIcxEA/Tgtmm1o-0LI/AAAAAAAAFHk/pL7eO5fXB2Y/s1600/waterfall.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Storm Dragon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pJI8uNqnX1s/TgtmmVOpnHI/AAAAAAAAFHc/-ppj7mpBnXM/s1600/2362x1859_1723_Elemental_2d_fantasy_dragon_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 252px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pJI8uNqnX1s/TgtmmVOpnHI/AAAAAAAAFHc/-ppj7mpBnXM/s320/2362x1859_1723_Elemental_2d_fantasy_dragon_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701368421850226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pJI8uNqnX1s/TgtmmVOpnHI/AAAAAAAAFHc/-ppj7mpBnXM/s1600/2362x1859_1723_Elemental_2d_fantasy_dragon_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dawn Creeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ii_kdKIMfog/TgtmmJ9TnQI/AAAAAAAAFHU/pF6dgIzfBHQ/s1600/1500x990_3381_Distant_Lands_2d_landscape_mountains_tree_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ii_kdKIMfog/TgtmmJ9TnQI/AAAAAAAAFHU/pF6dgIzfBHQ/s320/1500x990_3381_Distant_Lands_2d_landscape_mountains_tree_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701365396315394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ii_kdKIMfog/TgtmmJ9TnQI/AAAAAAAAFHU/pF6dgIzfBHQ/s1600/1500x990_3381_Distant_Lands_2d_landscape_mountains_tree_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jungle Ruins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M2leVr6Ckcg/TgtmlauIjpI/AAAAAAAAFHM/DZJaIRzU0lA/s1600/1500x806_441_No_monkeys_2d_environment_ruins_picture_image_digital_art.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 172px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M2leVr6Ckcg/TgtmlauIjpI/AAAAAAAAFHM/DZJaIRzU0lA/s320/1500x806_441_No_monkeys_2d_environment_ruins_picture_image_digital_art.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701352716209810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M2leVr6Ckcg/TgtmlauIjpI/AAAAAAAAFHM/DZJaIRzU0lA/s1600/1500x806_441_No_monkeys_2d_environment_ruins_picture_image_digital_art.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cliff Dragon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xUg74Bq-0Pc/TgtmksoJ8qI/AAAAAAAAFHE/SVT4H035ZYw/s1600/1400x591_2460_Egg_Thief_2d_fantasy_dragon_landscape_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 135px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xUg74Bq-0Pc/TgtmksoJ8qI/AAAAAAAAFHE/SVT4H035ZYw/s320/1400x591_2460_Egg_Thief_2d_fantasy_dragon_landscape_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701340343104162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xUg74Bq-0Pc/TgtmksoJ8qI/AAAAAAAAFHE/SVT4H035ZYw/s1600/1400x591_2460_Egg_Thief_2d_fantasy_dragon_landscape_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cliff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Us6PMX0eBQA/TgtmUHoh4cI/AAAAAAAAFG8/ExY60xnqJqg/s1600/1280x720_3300__Sein_2d_surrealism_game_art_game_design_mist_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Us6PMX0eBQA/TgtmUHoh4cI/AAAAAAAAFG8/ExY60xnqJqg/s320/1280x720_3300__Sein_2d_surrealism_game_art_game_design_mist_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701055534653890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Us6PMX0eBQA/TgtmUHoh4cI/AAAAAAAAFG8/ExY60xnqJqg/s1600/1280x720_3300__Sein_2d_surrealism_game_art_game_design_mist_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Shore Tower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0-FrBt06gPg/TgtmT59oKvI/AAAAAAAAFG0/b6lMGx0ME3Q/s1600/1024x725_3168_Exile_2d_fantasy_tower_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0-FrBt06gPg/TgtmT59oKvI/AAAAAAAAFG0/b6lMGx0ME3Q/s320/1024x725_3168_Exile_2d_fantasy_tower_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701051865049842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0-FrBt06gPg/TgtmT59oKvI/AAAAAAAAFG0/b6lMGx0ME3Q/s1600/1024x725_3168_Exile_2d_fantasy_tower_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Gallant Knight VS Dragon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52w1N-axrqI/TgtmTbIp9zI/AAAAAAAAFGs/RsVaSKVOHbE/s1600/1024x568_3813_AttackOfTheDragon_2d_fantasy_dragon_knight_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52w1N-axrqI/TgtmTbIp9zI/AAAAAAAAFGs/RsVaSKVOHbE/s320/1024x568_3813_AttackOfTheDragon_2d_fantasy_dragon_knight_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701043589805874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52w1N-axrqI/TgtmTbIp9zI/AAAAAAAAFGs/RsVaSKVOHbE/s1600/1024x568_3813_AttackOfTheDragon_2d_fantasy_dragon_knight_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Impossible Alleyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bkkX3ZQ-cM4/TgtmTb-gtdI/AAAAAAAAFGk/Jd3mwWvxS74/s1600/1000x1200_2771_Time_2d_surrealism_fantasy_architecture_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bkkX3ZQ-cM4/TgtmTb-gtdI/AAAAAAAAFGk/Jd3mwWvxS74/s320/1000x1200_2771_Time_2d_surrealism_fantasy_architecture_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701043815691730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bkkX3ZQ-cM4/TgtmTb-gtdI/AAAAAAAAFGk/Jd3mwWvxS74/s1600/1000x1200_2771_Time_2d_surrealism_fantasy_architecture_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Digging Your Own Grave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p6djc8AUMP0/TgtmTPZJPCI/AAAAAAAAFGc/9jiY452VTjo/s1600/1000x445_4371_Fresh_Meat_2_2d_fantasy_cemetery_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 142px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p6djc8AUMP0/TgtmTPZJPCI/AAAAAAAAFGc/9jiY452VTjo/s320/1000x445_4371_Fresh_Meat_2_2d_fantasy_cemetery_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623701040437738530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p6djc8AUMP0/TgtmTPZJPCI/AAAAAAAAFGc/9jiY452VTjo/s1600/1000x445_4371_Fresh_Meat_2_2d_fantasy_cemetery_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wanted to talk about dreams though... had a dream of death that I have yet to blog about... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was doing some research and found out that...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams often bring up all the things we do not want to think about, all things we push aside, all things that we repressed and suppress in the day while they press upon us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4283818587222660243?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4283818587222660243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4283818587222660243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/picture-this.html' title='Picture This'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XGkXNyUcoA/Tgtmvkb2CZI/AAAAAAAAFHs/7I8vTVe-fCo/s72-c/snow-environment.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7743927727800637366</id><published>2011-06-29T10:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T11:16:30.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MarineAngemon VS Omnimon X</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--wHia58DgtY/TgqVM5tUqCI/AAAAAAAAFGM/Pgjk_SJcyGI/s1600/marineangemon.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 309px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--wHia58DgtY/TgqVM5tUqCI/AAAAAAAAFGM/Pgjk_SJcyGI/s320/marineangemon.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623471133607372834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my favourite digimon. It is small but packs a heavy punch. It may look like a rookie level but it's actually a mega level, the same level as Wargreymon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MarineAngemon is a Pixie Digimon whose name and design are derived from the sea angel. Since it inhabits the Net Ocean, its figure can rarely be seen. Although it possesses the name of "Angemon", as far as the ecosystem is concerned, the Angemon-species is actually a different family. It wears a Holy Ring around its neck. Although it fundamentally dislikes combat, its Special Move "Ocean Love" results in it achieving victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is digimon now reminds of someone... small and packs a heavy punch. Not to be messed around with... good thing I'm also a mega level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UdUVVVfn1BU/TgqXS5TDgDI/AAAAAAAAFGU/Lm3nGhErsB0/s320/Omnimon_X_b.gif" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 274px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623473435599667250" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7743927727800637366?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7743927727800637366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7743927727800637366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/marineangemon.html' title='MarineAngemon VS Omnimon X'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--wHia58DgtY/TgqVM5tUqCI/AAAAAAAAFGM/Pgjk_SJcyGI/s72-c/marineangemon.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1084472840488762559</id><published>2011-06-29T10:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T10:40:51.499+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Happiness VS Fake Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pGzBzdkDKiU/TgqK0mjM7jI/AAAAAAAAFGE/7fvoWf4NlsM/s1600/happiness-hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pGzBzdkDKiU/TgqK0mjM7jI/AAAAAAAAFGE/7fvoWf4NlsM/s320/happiness-hands.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623459721031511602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, being contented with what you have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I'm way past that level of happiness. Generally, anything or everything that happens, be it shit or dark clouds, I've been trained so well, I could almost immediately see the silver lining and get over it. Maybe the most I'll grumble abit to get it out of my female harmonic system. Cos majority of guys don't really need to 'talk' about their problem. IT'S TRUE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I 'act' alot but emotions are not something easy to be acted upon. There are times when I am angry, upset, hurt, disappointed, and times when I really am happy. I really like to be happy. Who doesn't!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in order to be happy most of the time, I smile. Smiles are influential. It may not be a real smile at the first moment when deep down I'm sad, hurt or disappointed but the moment I see the smiles light up on another person's face, my smile turns into a real one. All these moments happen in half a second time... but my blog seems to amplify the effect because these half a second hidden hurts and disappointments really gets burnt into my memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, in this juncture of my life, someone really special is having great influence in me... This is so going to make me sound needy but I think I have to say else she'll start to think otherwise... The feeling of loneliness is amplified! Every Minute She Get 1 meter away from me I feel EMPTY! Despite all the bruises, stunts and emotional rides... I feel completed when I'm with her... There I said it! Now I sound like a needy little boy... haiz... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to work... Don't think so much... No use worrying about anything, cos worrying doesn't solve anything. Be happy. =) &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(these are the self comforting moments I need to see a real smile)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1084472840488762559?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1084472840488762559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1084472840488762559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/real-happiness-vs-fake-happiness.html' title='Real Happiness VS Fake Happiness'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pGzBzdkDKiU/TgqK0mjM7jI/AAAAAAAAFGE/7fvoWf4NlsM/s72-c/happiness-hands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2546490758658874000</id><published>2011-06-28T10:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T11:16:36.489+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Howling to be accepted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DhCCDyjdxRE/TglCUeftyTI/AAAAAAAAFF8/dBeOcbBz5Ag/s1600/photo-220998.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DhCCDyjdxRE/TglCUeftyTI/AAAAAAAAFF8/dBeOcbBz5Ag/s320/photo-220998.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623098529299679538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambivert is the in between of Extrovert and Introvert. Outgoing and Reserved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am actually by nature an introvert. When I was just a child, I was the "observer" I spend my time thinking and observer people. When I grow older, I started to understand friendship and later on I learnt about social norms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being alone had always been pretty much my life. At the same time I didn't like it, I also wanted to be accepted. I wanted to be greeted with warmth and respect wherever I go. I wanted to find just a friend who would understand me. I realized that the best way to make friends was to be one. Initially I couldn't do it. I just didn't know how. Slowly as I got older, I read more and learn more from experience on how to make friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I applied them and they worked, I always ask and prompt questions to arouse interest, then I act like I'm very interested with little tell tale signs like "Wa!" "Really??" "No, Seriously?!~" All of which were read from books. Keeping eye contact when talking and listening. Listen more because people like to talk about themselves. The more they talk about themselves and I look interested, they will start to like me and think I am interesting when I deep down I really couldn't care less cos the very next day I probably forgotten what you said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I learnt and even better technique, laughter. It is the closest distance between people. I learnt to smile. Smiling and laughter have great influence on people. They feel close to me, so close to me that they start sharing they're deepest darkest secrets with me. I don't know if they realize they don't know me yet, I don't trust them. I am not close to them, as I always control the conversation, I ask the questions, they reveal about themselves. I never mentioned about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing, just because I wanted to be accepted, just because of the social norms, I had to put up an act, put on a mask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep down I'm still a lone wolf. Longing to find someone who truly understands me and accept me for who I am. At the same time still gives me my lone time to howl my grief and sadness in the moonlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the way, the mask has been on me for so long, it seems to have become "another me". Like a split personality. I was in much dilemma, I no longer knew who I really was. I tossed and turn in bed, I cried and laughed like a mad man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then slowly but surely I come to the fact that I am still me, a better me, a learnt me. The mask has become part of my life, the smile has become a permanent feature. I was just stressed out with the uncomfortable change, the stepping out of my comfort zone to become someone I wasn't. I was evolving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm still evolving, to become and even better me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I am still in search of my soulmate... another me who truly understand me... to be accepted for who I am...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2546490758658874000?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2546490758658874000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2546490758658874000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/howling-to-be-accepted.html' title='Howling to be accepted'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DhCCDyjdxRE/TglCUeftyTI/AAAAAAAAFF8/dBeOcbBz5Ag/s72-c/photo-220998.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2854692719845611338</id><published>2011-06-27T11:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T12:04:23.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Number 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CW4PTKm82c/Tgf9NvYB7bI/AAAAAAAAFF0/6TK2Tp-RMVs/s1600/number3_sticker-p217635933328989384qjcl_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 230px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CW4PTKm82c/Tgf9NvYB7bI/AAAAAAAAFF0/6TK2Tp-RMVs/s320/number3_sticker-p217635933328989384qjcl_400.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622741072292736434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the number "7" but the number "3" pops ups more in my life... bus 3 I take everyday, 3 days into a relationship and had my first quarrel, 3 years since my last relationship, her core number 3, I live 13th floor, she live 3rd floor, 1983, 3 weeks b4 we *cough*... triangle love sort of... 3 kingdoms... 3 dots... rotate a "W" anti-clockwise to get a 3... 30 years since my parents are married... 30 years since her parents are married... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been 3 months since I stepped into Gemalto, in March, 3rd month of a year, the place where I met this amazing girl... with only 3 letters in her name... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is really all together too coincidental... Requires further research...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Three&lt;/u&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The spiritual meaning of number Three deals with magic, intuition, fecundity, and advantage. The number Three invokes expression, versatility, and pure joy of creativity. Three is also a time identifier as it represents Past, Present and Future. Consecutive Threes in your life may symbolize the need to express yourself creatively, or consider your present directional path in relation to past events and future goals. Three may also represent promising new adventures, and assurance of cooperation from others whom you may require help. Three typically symbolizes reward and success in most undertakings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2854692719845611338?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2854692719845611338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2854692719845611338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/number-3.html' title='The Number 3'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CW4PTKm82c/Tgf9NvYB7bI/AAAAAAAAFF0/6TK2Tp-RMVs/s72-c/number3_sticker-p217635933328989384qjcl_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8707859196322637260</id><published>2011-06-27T11:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T11:39:46.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Euuuuu....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwV-hlBcqwk/Tgf5GKKROPI/AAAAAAAAFFs/IMNEwfTF1CI/s1600/missing-someone-pixdaus1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwV-hlBcqwk/Tgf5GKKROPI/AAAAAAAAFFs/IMNEwfTF1CI/s320/missing-someone-pixdaus1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622736543997311218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh... This feeling... How can I miss someone that badly... it's not even a day... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knock out of it Andrew! Stay focus! Do not lose yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHHH!!! Can't do it... can't stop thinking of her... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chill chill... what is everybody going to think... What is she going to think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the very calm Andrew, you can handle your emotions better than anyone you know. So stay cool. like a Cool Kitty Cat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8707859196322637260?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8707859196322637260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8707859196322637260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/missing-euuuuu.html' title='Missing Euuuuu....'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwV-hlBcqwk/Tgf5GKKROPI/AAAAAAAAFFs/IMNEwfTF1CI/s72-c/missing-someone-pixdaus1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-696741434770846263</id><published>2011-06-26T20:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T20:49:09.184+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Digging up... holes in the past?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NgS7Z3Tc0v0/TgcoHT2wrXI/AAAAAAAAFFk/5axc6Ra6nss/s1600/tunnels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NgS7Z3Tc0v0/TgcoHT2wrXI/AAAAAAAAFFk/5axc6Ra6nss/s320/tunnels.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622506765849505138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather dig holes and tunnels in the sand than digging up the past... cos the past is history, there's no use talking about it. Some may debate that it teaches us lessons, to not repeat those mistakes past people have done but times have changed! The past problems will NEVER be repeated because we are facing new things everyday! New situations! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why must the past be brought up so much especially if they were not a good memory. Wouldn't bringing it up, bring up the negative feelings together?? Does it feel good to bring up negative feelings??!! The worst thing is that these negative feelings affect others! Cmon' people! If you love the people around you, make them happy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... talking bout digging makes me miss my days at Sentosa where I dig holes and tunnels... get buried and feeling breathless... then followed by a terrible burn that gets slapped after whining about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life... live it well people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-696741434770846263?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/696741434770846263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/696741434770846263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/digging-up-holes-in-past.html' title='Digging up... holes in the past?'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NgS7Z3Tc0v0/TgcoHT2wrXI/AAAAAAAAFFk/5axc6Ra6nss/s72-c/tunnels.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3405357841559149791</id><published>2011-06-22T10:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T10:33:05.799+08:00</updated><title type='text'>YiYi makes me feel good.</title><content type='html'>My YiYi makes me feel good about myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told my Ah Gu and my parents "Your son will be a fine young man, when you guys leave him alone, he didn't turn bad, didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't go out to disturb other people, throw egg and create any trouble. As long as he didn't do them during his teen years, it's unlikely he'll do them when he gets older. This shows he knows how to differentiate good and bad and knows how to think for himself. Don't put too much pressure on him."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3405357841559149791?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3405357841559149791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3405357841559149791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/yiyi-makes-me-feel-good.html' title='YiYi makes me feel good.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6387556566371833842</id><published>2011-06-21T09:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T10:35:58.795+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monopoly Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ip5_tCkZxLo/Tf_5hKobNyI/AAAAAAAAFFc/M_DQuUESsTo/s1600/vinduhlflickr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ip5_tCkZxLo/Tf_5hKobNyI/AAAAAAAAFFc/M_DQuUESsTo/s320/vinduhlflickr.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620485208166577954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... I haven't touched this game for so long, I wonder why I had this dream with clear numbers haha. But too bad I don't buy 4D. I still considered it gambling. No good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt I was playing monopoly with a few people. I rolled first to see who went first. I got a "3". Then the person on my right got a "2" and the person on my left got a "1". The rest didn't roll and we decided to let me go first and take turns anti-clockwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rolled a "3" that fell on the ground which everyone shouted and asked if I want to "save it" to which I responded "huh". They say the one that fell on the ground not counted. I say okay. Another one landed at "5" so that makes an "8" which landed me in a "brown" in my dream thats not right... but I didn't know it wasn't right in my dream but I sure felt that I didn't want to land there, so I took the dice on the ground and re-rolled it to a "2" which sums up a "7" which made me land on a "Chance" instead! I was happy! I took the chance card and it shows a train picture and tells me to go to the nearest train station. I got more happy that I'm way ahead in the game. Then the rest ask if I want to buy, I said "No". Everyone got confused. I wasn't sure why I said no either. Probably cos I wanted to save for the more expensive one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the numbers that popped up in my dream for those who believe in luck. 32153827.... Can go buy 4D le... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I believe dreams do have hidden meaning though... let's try to interpret this... Due to the numbers involved, this dream has several meanings... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The numbers could mean a date like 3/2/15 and 3/8/27. Something major may happen when I'm 29 and another major event will happen when I'm 41. (And here you go blog readers, another 4 numbers for you guys to buy 4D with.) And if I were to count numerology with these numbers I'll get 6133. (Another number for you gambling guys out there!) Which in numerology boils down to the number "4".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four: The symbolic meaning of number Four deals with stability and invokes the grounded nature of all things. Consider the four seasons, four directions, four elements all these amazingly powerful essences wrapped up in the nice square package of Four. Fours represent solidity, calmness, and home. A recurrence of Four in your life may signify the need to get back to your roots, center yourself, or even "plant" yourself. Fours also indicate a need for persistence and endurance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with landing on house, chance and train station coupled with the significant dates, could mean I'll get my first house when I'm 29 then a chance to buy a train station when I'm 41. Just my guess. The 2 dates could also mean the birth date of 2 people I'll know in the future that plays a significant role on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the rest of the dream could have the following meanings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To play monopoly in your dream, signifies your business dealings and your aspirations for success. Perhaps you are undertaking some business endeavor or venture where a lot of money is at stake.  The dream may also be a pun on how you or someone is monopolizing your time, a discussion or your finances. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see or play dice in your dream, suggests that you are taking chances and playing with fate. It refers to the unpredictability of life. The dream may also be a pun on  a situation that may be getting too "dicey". Consider the significance of the numbers reflected on the dice or how many dice were thrown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE: Considered by the ancient Greeks to be the perfect number, three represents the union of body mind and spirit. Its shape is the triangle, which may represent the creative force. Three can also symbolise the Holy Trinity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO: Two represents diversity. It is the number of duality and divine symmetry. It represents the union of opposites such as male and female, mother father, yin and yang or heaven and earth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE: One is the number that initiates action. It may represent the source of life or oneness of all creation. Its associated shape is a point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIVE: Five represents the link between the heavens and the earth. Its symbol is the five-pointed pentagram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EIGHT: The Chinese believe that eight is very lucky and brings great good fortune. It can represent regeneration and new beginnings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVEN:  Seven is the symbol of completeness-an idea originating from the belief that the world was created in seven days. It was believed that the soul renewed itself every seven years and hence the belief that to break a mirror will bring seven years bad luck, as mirrors are a reflection of the soul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6387556566371833842?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6387556566371833842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6387556566371833842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/monopoly-dream.html' title='Monopoly Dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ip5_tCkZxLo/Tf_5hKobNyI/AAAAAAAAFFc/M_DQuUESsTo/s72-c/vinduhlflickr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-9145508162713318732</id><published>2011-06-21T09:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T09:51:06.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Money issues again...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eqV0UaecKg0/Tf_201HCxpI/AAAAAAAAFFU/81tyiLyOz4M/s1600/82b3194866c41ee8_200248305-001.xxlarge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eqV0UaecKg0/Tf_201HCxpI/AAAAAAAAFFU/81tyiLyOz4M/s320/82b3194866c41ee8_200248305-001.xxlarge.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620482247451920018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is an issue and will always be an issue... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday when I came back, instead of facing warm welcome home hugs that I long for, I jumped into bed and the first thing that was thrown onto my bed was my dad's car rental and a parking summon. $780 + $50. Then a $350 was thrown on my bed again to pay for the car loan and summon followed by another $150 for my allowance. You do the math! I don't like to count stuff like this... they're my parents anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom suggested to put my money in her bank for savings... I decline her offer. -_-"&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to believe what my horoscope says but trust is really the hardest thing anyone can get from me... I don't even trust my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad will be taking the car to Malaysia this weekend... =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my YiYi is back!! =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-9145508162713318732?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9145508162713318732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9145508162713318732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/money-issues-again.html' title='Money issues again...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eqV0UaecKg0/Tf_201HCxpI/AAAAAAAAFFU/81tyiLyOz4M/s72-c/82b3194866c41ee8_200248305-001.xxlarge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8684884272398501868</id><published>2011-06-20T09:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T09:58:19.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink Adapter Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gZ1yNorPXy0/Tf6kXuijOrI/AAAAAAAAFFM/q0LPfK0CDY0/s1600/Adaptor-for-NDS5801-Black-Pink-Blue-Grey.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gZ1yNorPXy0/Tf6kXuijOrI/AAAAAAAAFFM/q0LPfK0CDY0/s320/Adaptor-for-NDS5801-Black-Pink-Blue-Grey.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620110112541850290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had this really weird dream. I was in my room, it was a mess. There were all sorts of stuff lying around in piles of mess including wires and stuff. My meimei came to clear it and put them in proper piles while I went to sleep, then when I woke up in my dream, a weird and fierce fairy was telling me to get a move on. She was shouting at me like a nasty sergeant telling me to start paddling. I looked out the window and realize my apartment was flying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were two wires connected to the wings outside my windows, which were connected to my door which was connected to two pedals. I wanted to start paddling but one of the parts were missing, a pink adapter. I remembered it was in the pile of mess so the fairy who by the way was life size, not the little Tinkerbell type. She helped me to look for my pink adapter while scolding me. We both looked high and low for the missing pink adapter but just couldn't find it. We search every corner in my room and still couldn't find it... Then I woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's try to interpret this...&lt;br /&gt;O.O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8684884272398501868?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8684884272398501868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8684884272398501868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/pink-adapter-dream.html' title='Pink Adapter Dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gZ1yNorPXy0/Tf6kXuijOrI/AAAAAAAAFFM/q0LPfK0CDY0/s72-c/Adaptor-for-NDS5801-Black-Pink-Blue-Grey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6518651522818100958</id><published>2011-06-19T23:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T23:59:13.854+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speed Bumps</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DDNHaZ-z4h4/Tf4ai8BV63I/AAAAAAAAFFE/FgnfCg_msXg/s1600/speed_bumps_kill_earth.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DDNHaZ-z4h4/Tf4ai8BV63I/AAAAAAAAFFE/FgnfCg_msXg/s320/speed_bumps_kill_earth.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619958572534590322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everytime I drive at a very high speed and I see a speed bump I slow down. That is what they are there for! They're not to stop you or change your direction but to SLOW you down, telling you "Woa there! your moving too fast!" NOT "hey! ur on the wrong road! turn back now!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like life, we will meet with many bumps in life. Little obstacles that interrupts the flow in our life. Little comments, arguments, critical statements, unfair treatments and unfavored changes. They will never cease to appear in our little road of life that we travel on. Often, some roads we travel on, there are many of these bumps that appear constantly and we get very frustrated, we get slowed down but that is all because those roads are dangerous, the bumps are to remind us to slow down and be careful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But are we suppose to stop? NO! NEVER STOP! WE KEEP MOVING FORWARD! else people are gonna get killed behind... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6518651522818100958?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6518651522818100958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6518651522818100958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/speed-bumps.html' title='Speed Bumps'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DDNHaZ-z4h4/Tf4ai8BV63I/AAAAAAAAFFE/FgnfCg_msXg/s72-c/speed_bumps_kill_earth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6511179400192706858</id><published>2011-06-19T22:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T22:59:44.619+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Abduction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X3sNIhCD9aE/Tf4JMOv_WgI/AAAAAAAAFE8/1gSyqSwD52Q/s1600/alien_abduction_1047745.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X3sNIhCD9aE/Tf4JMOv_WgI/AAAAAAAAFE8/1gSyqSwD52Q/s320/alien_abduction_1047745.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619939490727418370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something happened over the weekend. I got abducted by an anngel and wrestled with her. It was truly a memorable weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today fathers' day. Went out to eat. Was disappointed with my dad. Told me not to get serious in this relationship cos she's older, I'm younger and I dunno what I'm getting myself into. Further questioning of his statement, mom explained and told me that she is going to age so fast and turn into an old wrinkly old lady then not good for me liao. -_-" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like all arguments with parents and since it's fathers' day, I only went 'orh.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we went to visit my ah gong, who is staying with my ah gu. He too gave me another lecture on 'love'. Said that he's been in and out of love so many times, he knows alot and stuff... says got puppy love then adolescence love then adult love... Then on with his teachings about choices which I kinda refuse to let them go in knowing that he's a bankrupt, alcohol addict and got divorce. But the very last line he said which I did accept was, "In the end, the choice is still up to you. Do anything you want, just don't regret." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6511179400192706858?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6511179400192706858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6511179400192706858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/weekend-abduction.html' title='Weekend Abduction'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X3sNIhCD9aE/Tf4JMOv_WgI/AAAAAAAAFE8/1gSyqSwD52Q/s72-c/alien_abduction_1047745.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1240543172294089832</id><published>2011-06-19T22:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T22:23:36.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>XD</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-TAstx3xs0/Tf4GYBCtBMI/AAAAAAAAFE0/FNNXiYkQaDw/s1600/600px-Happy_smiley_face.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-TAstx3xs0/Tf4GYBCtBMI/AAAAAAAAFE0/FNNXiYkQaDw/s320/600px-Happy_smiley_face.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619936394671359170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1240543172294089832?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1240543172294089832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1240543172294089832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/xd.html' title='XD'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-TAstx3xs0/Tf4GYBCtBMI/AAAAAAAAFE0/FNNXiYkQaDw/s72-c/600px-Happy_smiley_face.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6746953147211242054</id><published>2011-06-17T01:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T01:50:25.734+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NEED HUG NOW!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fFq_wtsCCug/TfpBfnoOwBI/AAAAAAAAFEs/DTuF9Q48SoQ/s1600/560126115l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fFq_wtsCCug/TfpBfnoOwBI/AAAAAAAAFEs/DTuF9Q48SoQ/s320/560126115l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618875496567586834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel better... but I desperately need a hug... Why are all my family asleep... I miss Keith... the gay shit guy who goes around in office hugging everyone for no reason all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6746953147211242054?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6746953147211242054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6746953147211242054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/need-hug-now.html' title='NEED HUG NOW!!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fFq_wtsCCug/TfpBfnoOwBI/AAAAAAAAFEs/DTuF9Q48SoQ/s72-c/560126115l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4913424115375879811</id><published>2011-06-16T10:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T10:42:41.298+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take A Chill Pill</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_t1u6dwx-N8/TfltIgIjZjI/AAAAAAAAFEk/MKgA9yQlFqU/s1600/chill_pill.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_t1u6dwx-N8/TfltIgIjZjI/AAAAAAAAFEk/MKgA9yQlFqU/s320/chill_pill.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618642002953594418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Andrew, you need to take a chill pill. Why are you so affected by her leh? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take the chill pill, sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Most importantly, DO YOUR HOMEWORK!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4913424115375879811?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4913424115375879811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4913424115375879811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/take-chill-pill.html' title='Take A Chill Pill'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_t1u6dwx-N8/TfltIgIjZjI/AAAAAAAAFEk/MKgA9yQlFqU/s72-c/chill_pill.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5032454728318028364</id><published>2011-06-16T09:37:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T09:58:52.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Alienated...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bkF2U36NC5A/TfleYJF_A7I/AAAAAAAAFEU/ylOTbUMWt6k/s1600/Friendless_7634.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bkF2U36NC5A/TfleYJF_A7I/AAAAAAAAFEU/ylOTbUMWt6k/s320/Friendless_7634.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618625778972296114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't have a best friend yet... someone just as nonsense as me... someone who can tolerate my nonsense... someone who will hear me out no matter how nonsense my emo shit nonsense get...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know some who is just as nonsense as me but not the other 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know a few who can tolerate my nonsense but can't do the other 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know someone who will hear me out when things gets out of hand but not the other 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the end, I still feel like an alien. I still need my mask on. It's consuming me though... like Ichigo from Bleach.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1Zht28AyRg/Tfli_PdtUNI/AAAAAAAAFEc/OMdfHam-_Ao/s320/ichigo_hollow.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618630848743821522" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5032454728318028364?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5032454728318028364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5032454728318028364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/still-alienated.html' title='Still Alienated...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bkF2U36NC5A/TfleYJF_A7I/AAAAAAAAFEU/ylOTbUMWt6k/s72-c/Friendless_7634.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-875156482380817884</id><published>2011-06-16T01:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T02:11:37.874+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Back Here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LYs6bo286lE/Tfj1stCPF5I/AAAAAAAAFEM/_x8oI7G05og/s1600/Come-Back-Here.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LYs6bo286lE/Tfj1stCPF5I/AAAAAAAAFEM/_x8oI7G05og/s320/Come-Back-Here.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618510683496716178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come Back Here to the present! Now! Here!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-875156482380817884?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/875156482380817884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/875156482380817884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/come-back-here.html' title='Come Back Here!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LYs6bo286lE/Tfj1stCPF5I/AAAAAAAAFEM/_x8oI7G05og/s72-c/Come-Back-Here.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3219415047602380457</id><published>2011-06-16T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T01:17:33.243+08:00</updated><title type='text'>主我獻上生命給你 - Lord, I Offer My Life To You - 約書亞樂團   PPT</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kPXjPZKuDRE?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My 700th post, I'd like to offer my blog to God. A song to remind me that the past, the future, and the dreams that are yet to be fulfilled. All my hopes, all my plans, are all in Your hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;我將自己 完全獻上&lt;br /&gt;毫無保留 放在你的腳前&lt;br /&gt;所有的悔恨 一切的稱讚&lt;br /&gt;無論苦與樂 都交託給你&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;過去的事 將來的事&lt;br /&gt;還有那沒有實現的夢想&lt;br /&gt;我所有希望 我所有計劃&lt;br /&gt;全人和全心 都交託給你&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;喔主 我獻上生命給你&lt;br /&gt;用我一切經歷&lt;br /&gt;來榮耀你聖名&lt;br /&gt;主 我獻上一生給你&lt;br /&gt;願我讚美升起&lt;br /&gt;能成為馨香活祭&lt;br /&gt;我獻上生命給你&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/7689533-3219415047602380457?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3219415047602380457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3219415047602380457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/lord-i-offer-my-life-to-you-ppt.html' title='主我獻上生命給你 - Lord, I Offer My Life To You - 約書亞樂團   PPT'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/kPXjPZKuDRE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-274559581858448748</id><published>2011-06-15T03:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T03:38:14.114+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Key To Your Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75GUJpRLMIQ/Tfe4cJuABfI/AAAAAAAAFEE/mAXBcgmZU6w/s1600/Key_for_Your_Heart_by_RADICALrandy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75GUJpRLMIQ/Tfe4cJuABfI/AAAAAAAAFEE/mAXBcgmZU6w/s320/Key_for_Your_Heart_by_RADICALrandy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618161853952689650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How Many keys does it take... to Unlock your Heart?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-274559581858448748?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/274559581858448748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/274559581858448748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/key-to-your-heart.html' title='Key To Your Heart'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75GUJpRLMIQ/Tfe4cJuABfI/AAAAAAAAFEE/mAXBcgmZU6w/s72-c/Key_for_Your_Heart_by_RADICALrandy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4873406601257776809</id><published>2011-06-13T02:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T02:35:51.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drowning in love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cZwGzUZHSrw/TfUG39iM6tI/AAAAAAAAFD8/g4XLXaUivzE/s1600/drowning_man_by_the_psycrothic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cZwGzUZHSrw/TfUG39iM6tI/AAAAAAAAFD8/g4XLXaUivzE/s320/drowning_man_by_the_psycrothic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617403668695149266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm the one who needs to be saved...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4873406601257776809?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4873406601257776809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4873406601257776809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/drowning-in-love.html' title='Drowning in love...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cZwGzUZHSrw/TfUG39iM6tI/AAAAAAAAFD8/g4XLXaUivzE/s72-c/drowning_man_by_the_psycrothic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-115097850962269268</id><published>2011-06-12T18:10:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T18:47:16.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of Socrates &amp; Plato on Love, Marriage, Happiness, Lust and Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_s59p1YnI/AAAAAAAAA3U/B8ARF37Ay7Y/s1600-h/images-2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 91px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_s59p1YnI/AAAAAAAAA3U/B8ARF37Ay7Y/s400/images-2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444830955060945522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One  day, Plato asked Socrates what love is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates said: "Go across this wheat field, pick up and bring back the best and finest wheat, but remember one thing, you cannot go back, and you only have one chance." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Plato did so, but he came back with nothing after a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates asked him why?  Plato  answered: "I did saw the best and finest wheat when I walked through the field, but I was always thinking that maybe there would be some  better ones ahead, so I gave it a miss; but as I moved on, there was nothing better than the one before, so in the end I came back with nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates smiled and said that this is love. It can be the most beautiful thing that can happen to a person, but you don't realise it's worth until it's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_sh8qYCeI/AAAAAAAAA3M/qch5W6O-Jkg/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 130px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_sh8qYCeI/AAAAAAAAA3M/qch5W6O-Jkg/s320/images.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444830542477920738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next day, Plato asked Socrates what marriage is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates said: "Go across this forest, cut down and bring back the tallest and most solid tree, but remember one thing, you cannot go back and you only have one chance." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Plato did so, but he just brought back a not so tall and solid one but good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates asked him why. Plato said: "I saw some very good trees on my way in the forest, this time, I learned something from the last time in the wheat field, so I just chose this one. If I did not, I was afraid that I would come back with nothing again, so doesn't matter if this is not the best one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, Socrates said with significance this is marriage. It is a compromise, you pick the first best one and learn to live happily with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_ovZavuZI/AAAAAAAAA28/DWl4qbk0xlw/s1600-h/images-3.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 89px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_ovZavuZI/AAAAAAAAA28/DWl4qbk0xlw/s320/images-3.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444826375488780690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One  more time, Plato asked Socrates what happiness is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates said: "Go across this field, pick the most beautiful flower, but remember one thing, you cannot go back, and you only have one chance." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Plato did so, and he came back with a fairly pretty flower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates asked him was this the most beautiful one. Plato said: "I saw this beautiful flower, picked it and thought this was the most beautiful one, when I walked in the field. And even though I saw many other beautiful ones, I still believed this was the most beautiful one, so I brought it back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Socrates said profoundly this is happiness. It is being content with what you have, knowing there are better ones out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_tIX1v8dI/AAAAAAAAA3c/YzGd-k4UMig/s1600-h/images-4.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 104px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_tIX1v8dI/AAAAAAAAA3c/YzGd-k4UMig/s400/images-4.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444831202608411090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Again, Plato asked his teacher Socrates what lust is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates asked him to go through the forest again, and he could have the freedom to go back and forth to bring back the most beautiful flower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato went out with confidence, and came back, bringing a bright but a little withered flower after two hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates  asked him whether this was the most beautiful flower. He answered to his teacher: "I was looking for the prettiest one for two hours and found this was the one, but on my way back, this picked flower was becoming withered."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Socrates told him sternly, this is lust. It may look like the most beautiful thing but will die off as soon as you have one and you'll be left with nothing in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_tXsHG1RI/AAAAAAAAA3k/nV_T3F33Eog/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 102px; height: 131px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_tXsHG1RI/AAAAAAAAA3k/nV_T3F33Eog/s400/images-1.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444831465747961106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another day, Plato asked his teacher Socrates what life is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates asked him again to go through the forest, he could have all the time and freedom but must bring back the most beautiful flower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato learned from his last experience and went out with great confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three days passed, he did not come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates became worried and walked into the forest to look for him, soon after, he found that Plato had pitched a camp in the forest. Socrates asked him whether he had found the prettiest flower. He pointed at a flower beside him and said this was the one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates asked him why he did not bring it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He answered: "If I did, it would be withered soon. Even if I did not, it would also wither sooner or later. So I decided to be beside it when it was in its best blossom, and when it died, I would find the next; this was the second one I found here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, Socrates smiled again and told him: "Now you’ve already known the truth of life. It is about living the moments and moving on."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-115097850962269268?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/115097850962269268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/115097850962269268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-found-it.html' title='Story of Socrates &amp; Plato on Love, Marriage, Happiness, Lust and Life'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o5yauXxfTJI/S4_s59p1YnI/AAAAAAAAA3U/B8ARF37Ay7Y/s72-c/images-2.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6929036291488826802</id><published>2011-06-09T11:38:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T11:57:55.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Pillar of Strength</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w0rlmL9VOU/TfBDcI1SkGI/AAAAAAAAFDM/cjRY8f4aEio/s1600/The%2BCross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w0rlmL9VOU/TfBDcI1SkGI/AAAAAAAAFDM/cjRY8f4aEio/s320/The%2BCross.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616062886017405026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;Please remind me that it is the little things in life that is important. Remind me not to get busy with succeeding in life that I forget about the important things in life, the things where I will look back one day and realize they were the big things in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remind me to never give up the opportunity to give a helping hand to my love ones around me, for I may never know I will ever get the chance again, remind me that the best sacrifice cannot be bought with money, is time. The best gift is to give our time. Remind me to not worry about the future for tomorrow will worry by itself, and the best gift I can give myself is living for today. To make every moment count, and every second of my life worth living for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God for giving me a partner to remind me about these. Truly grateful. You've been here for me for the last 8 years of my life, teaching, guiding me and carrying me through all the storms in my life, I cannot be more awed by Your magnificent love and glory. I pray that You will also give my partner a chance to experience Your wonderful love. An eternal pillar of strength to depend on like how You've been there for me. Use me if You will to shine Your light through me onto her. It is You who loved me first that I learnt how to love. In Jesus Christ most precious name I pray. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6929036291488826802?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6929036291488826802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6929036291488826802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-pillar-of-strength.html' title='My Pillar of Strength'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w0rlmL9VOU/TfBDcI1SkGI/AAAAAAAAFDM/cjRY8f4aEio/s72-c/The%2BCross.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1184059784001333046</id><published>2011-06-09T01:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T01:12:38.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Fantasy VIII - Fav RPG</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="400" height="320" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HNefNLOHVYk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first RPG I fell in love with... amazing song, amazing storyline and the most amazing girl. Rinoa Heartily, a rebellious daughter with a compassionate personality, very brave as well. Despite her privileged lifestyle, she is not spoiled at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the cutscenes throughout the game, she took alot of initiative... so not shy at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wished I'd meet someone like that... I hoped and prayed really hard over this silly wish... but little did I expect to really meet someone as brave, compassionate and rebellious as her... did I mention cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1184059784001333046?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1184059784001333046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1184059784001333046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/final-fantasy-viii-fav-rpg.html' title='Final Fantasy VIII - Fav RPG'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/HNefNLOHVYk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5177244388488269002</id><published>2011-06-08T21:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T21:06:16.391+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Raising the white flag...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F2XYCUkd4Mo/Te9zQoPnObI/AAAAAAAAFDE/bhaeB_RML-Y/s1600/white%2Bflag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 252px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F2XYCUkd4Mo/Te9zQoPnObI/AAAAAAAAFDE/bhaeB_RML-Y/s320/white%2Bflag.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615833989872302514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is really getting tougher than I thought... How did those who manage to go thru this actually went thru it... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working and studying is really killing me. I've never been so stressed up in my life... I really feel like giving up one of them...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5177244388488269002?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5177244388488269002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5177244388488269002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/raising-white-flag.html' title='Raising the white flag...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F2XYCUkd4Mo/Te9zQoPnObI/AAAAAAAAFDE/bhaeB_RML-Y/s72-c/white%2Bflag.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2243763451963739984</id><published>2011-06-08T11:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T12:16:27.681+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of Love</title><content type='html'>Here's a post I made long time ago, digging it up again for a reminder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long time ago, before the world was created and humans set foot on it, God had put all the human qualities in a separate room. Since all the qualities were bored they decided to play hide &amp;amp; seek. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; was one of the qualities and he shouted, "I want to count, I want to count!" And since nobody was crazy enough to want to seek &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt;, all the other qualities agreed. So &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; leaned against a tree and started to count, "One, two, three..." As &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; counted, the qualities went hiding. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;Treason&lt;/span&gt; hid in a pile of garbage.. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Lie&lt;/span&gt; said that it would hide under a stone, but hid at the bottom of the lake. And &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; continued to count, "seventy nine, eighty, eighty one..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, all the qualities were already hidden, except &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;. For stupid as &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; is, he could not decide where to hide. And this should not surprise us, because we all know how difficult it is to hide &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; continued, "ninety five, ninety six, ninety seven..." Just when &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; got to one hundred... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; jumped into a rose bush where he hid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; turned around and shouted: "I'm coming, I'm coming!" As &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; turned around, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Laziness&lt;/span&gt; was the first to be found, because &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Laziness&lt;/span&gt; was too lazy to hide. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; searched madly and found &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Lie&lt;/span&gt; at the bottom of the lake. One by one, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; found them all, except &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; was getting desperate, unable to find &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;. Envious of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Envy&lt;/span&gt; whispered to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt;, "&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; is hiding in the rose bush."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; jumped on the rose bush and he heard a loud cry. The thorns in the bush had pierced the eyes of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing the commotion, God came into the room and saw what had happened. He got very angry and cursed &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt; and said, "Since &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Lo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; has become blind because of you, you shall always be with him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it came about that from that day on, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; is blind and is always accompanied by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Madness&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Svr5pgoWlwc/S5R3XKildMI/AAAAAAAAElc/GD7hIzMMVUs/s1600-h/retrieve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Svr5pgoWlwc/S5R3XKildMI/AAAAAAAAElc/GD7hIzMMVUs/s400/retrieve.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446109089247884482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2243763451963739984?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2243763451963739984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2243763451963739984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-is-blind.html' title='Story of Love'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Svr5pgoWlwc/S5R3XKildMI/AAAAAAAAElc/GD7hIzMMVUs/s72-c/retrieve.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2247590235488021456</id><published>2011-06-08T11:58:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T16:40:36.990+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Roses comes with thorns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rWJJdHrdfOA/Te7z_AGhTAI/AAAAAAAAFCs/QXEXpn_ynv4/s1600/roses-thorns.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rWJJdHrdfOA/Te7z_AGhTAI/AAAAAAAAFCs/QXEXpn_ynv4/s320/roses-thorns.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615694049062243330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is being in love all rosy all the time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;NO! Doesn't Exist on Earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will there be times where we hurt each other? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;YES! All the time, the closer you get to the roses, the closer you get to the thorns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But do still continue to open up ourselves to fall in love again? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HELL YEA! Why did we make the first leap anyway! Cos we're crazy people who do crazy things!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2247590235488021456?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2247590235488021456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2247590235488021456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/roses-comes-with-thorns.html' title='Roses comes with thorns'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rWJJdHrdfOA/Te7z_AGhTAI/AAAAAAAAFCs/QXEXpn_ynv4/s72-c/roses-thorns.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-565031942090450017</id><published>2011-06-08T04:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T04:36:52.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Living Life. I Am Happy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="400" height="334" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/H8ZuKF3dxCY?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes in life, where you fall down, you feel like you don't have the strength to get back up... Do you think you have hope?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I fail and I give up, am I ever gonna get up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But If I fail and I try again and again"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It matters how you gonna finish, are you gonna finish strong?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God, &lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reminding me that's it's not the end, that I should get up this instance give my 133%. Please give me the strength to hold on. Nobody said life was going to be easy. Thank You God for reminding that there is hope. In Jesus Christ most precious name. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-565031942090450017?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/565031942090450017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/565031942090450017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-love-living-life-i-am-happy.html' title='I Love Living Life. I Am Happy.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/H8ZuKF3dxCY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-878900472404956914</id><published>2011-06-08T03:18:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T04:04:50.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cavetime...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XQzq0mjGJ94/Te55k_RccPI/AAAAAAAAFCU/H6hw21BsQhs/s1600/caveman.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 185px; height: 243px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XQzq0mjGJ94/Te55k_RccPI/AAAAAAAAFCU/H6hw21BsQhs/s320/caveman.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615559461744439538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since the weather is getting so hot outside, I may need some cavetime soon... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I've fallen too deep, I've lost myself. Why is it so hard to tell someone that you're hurt without hurting them...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I need to be alone and think about this... where's my mask? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-878900472404956914?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/878900472404956914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/878900472404956914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/cavetime.html' title='Cavetime...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XQzq0mjGJ94/Te55k_RccPI/AAAAAAAAFCU/H6hw21BsQhs/s72-c/caveman.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6024568246240042958</id><published>2011-06-08T02:11:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T03:21:35.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Time is here...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UrX4m0rt7EU/Te5p4pgT8OI/AAAAAAAAFBk/qYo16yEoLj0/s1600/summertime.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UrX4m0rt7EU/Te5p4pgT8OI/AAAAAAAAFBk/qYo16yEoLj0/s320/summertime.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615542207312556258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it me or is it getting hot... the temperature starts to raise... the plants all dry up... everything becomes clearer as the sun shines brighter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all fun in the sun until it get so scorching it starts to hurt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Mask is my favourite movie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKXK5mAxNoE/Te5tRjEc7EI/AAAAAAAAFBs/aGb3QpoAemY/s320/936full-the-mask-artwork.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 296px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615545933616704578" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life consist of this one mask-fits-all. The mask that covers everything with a smile. When I am angry I smile, when I'm jealous I smile, when I'm upset I smile, when I'm happy I smile, when I'm elated I smile, when I'm in pain I smile, when I'm hurt I also smile... Nobody can see through this mask, especially when I'm hurt I smile the most. The mask is so real sometimes I'm convinced that I'm alright...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This isn't what I really want to write... I'm just beating around the bush again, trying to make it sound softer. Here's the thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing is, there is a big difference when I use the word pain and the word hurt. Pain is only felt on the outside, hurt is on the inside... Normally people will never tell others their weakness and what they are afraid of because they fear that the others would use it against them, so they only confide these secrets to people they trust, people who they believe will not use their weaknesses on them...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Question is, how do you trust someone who do uses them on you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WJTAYzsH6m0/Te50ObZIxXI/AAAAAAAAFB8/PiV4Q--bbCc/s200/blueblack.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615553576597767538" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;image of a pinch mark... not painful anymore, cos now it hurts. =(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6024568246240042958?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6024568246240042958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6024568246240042958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-time-is-here.html' title='Summer Time is here...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UrX4m0rt7EU/Te5p4pgT8OI/AAAAAAAAFBk/qYo16yEoLj0/s72-c/summertime.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7768999258525360363</id><published>2011-06-08T01:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T04:10:38.379+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Need to be needed, no longer needed..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUpbD9YINa8/Te6DSSMgLhI/AAAAAAAAFCk/9WdjBpjfkBE/s1600/emo%2Bboy%2Bcartoon.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUpbD9YINa8/Te6DSSMgLhI/AAAAAAAAFCk/9WdjBpjfkBE/s320/emo%2Bboy%2Bcartoon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615570135522749970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you say "I can take care of myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear "I don't need you anymore..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you say "You don't have to do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear "I no longer need you to love me anymore..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7768999258525360363?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7768999258525360363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7768999258525360363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/need-to-be-needed-no-longer-needed.html' title='Need to be needed, no longer needed..'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUpbD9YINa8/Te6DSSMgLhI/AAAAAAAAFCk/9WdjBpjfkBE/s72-c/emo%2Bboy%2Bcartoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7886820555098573609</id><published>2011-06-07T14:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T17:03:24.425+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How the Stunning Crab Meets the Gentle Sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkuS2vhqKM/Te526_EAZ4I/AAAAAAAAFCE/TNSKInBYaaA/s1600/Sep06080017_thumb.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkuS2vhqKM/Te526_EAZ4I/AAAAAAAAFCE/TNSKInBYaaA/s320/Sep06080017_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615556541110314882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkuS2vhqKM/Te526_EAZ4I/AAAAAAAAFCE/TNSKInBYaaA/s1600/Sep06080017_thumb.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my side of the story... of how the calm sea was shaken by the Shocking pink crab who wanted to test the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;28 March 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Day @ Gemalto. Reached half an hr early. Saw my boss, said that there was 2 other girls. Saw a girl walked into the canteen. Her pace was fast, put a bunch of stuff on the table and went to get a drink. Seems like the type who is quite established in her life, most likely have a good portfolio, and tons of experience. She dressed with much elegance which spells out, "High Maintenance" to me, she's a little short (a head shorter than me) but a hottie for sure, guessing that she's probably been hit on quite a few times and has a lot of experience with guys too... Probably I have little to no chance getting close to her, feels like she has a wall around her, doors and windows all shut tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another girl came in, it was the girl who went for interview with me, I knew she'd make it if I made it. She was good! Can communicate well, strong articulation of English and great portfolio. I pretend I didn't see her, played cool until she came to talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was much waiting, we talked alot, I was in my "make friends" mode. Prompted alot of questions to find a hot button so we could click. Clicked well YenLee, but Ann was really dao, I guessed I have to use a different approach, so I purposely talk to YenLee more until I had nothing left to talk then finally I talked to her and the first thing I saw was her Madonna tooth, immediately reminded me of my mom. Her points dropped by one. She spoke in Singlish with much ah lian slang in her communication, had tattoos and smoke, how typical can an ah lian get, doesn't really talks alot compared to YenLee when we are having our lunch with our direct supervisor. She made her first stunning moments to me when she said she was jaded. I couldn't believe there will be words I won't understand from an ah lian. She didn't explain to me and told me to Google it myself, Kaoz! Made me feel stupid... better watch out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;11 April 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're getting the hang of things, or at least I am... found out that Robin is an asshole, YenLee is attached and Ann is probably attached, married or engaged as well cos she has a ring on her ring finger and she doesn't really goes home with me and YenLee. Everyone's older and I'm most likely free from all the BGR hoohah. Can focus on my dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to think she has BDSM or some weird fetish as conversations with her seems to revolve around people naked, BiSai, shitting, peeing, imagination that involves people getting severely hurt in some ways, and has a cardboard made chopper used for fanning herself. (she smells nice) I've never met someone like that, especially a girl! This day was the day she ask for MSN from everyone, suddenly becoming friendly. Makes me wonder what she's up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;16 April 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was met with a 'pleasant' surprise by this girl. She actually went to find me on facebook. I'm really not into talking and socializing outside of work or school... why did she look for me... hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;21 April 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost a month, she was transferred to my team and was placed right beside me in office doing the same job of preflight, since it was a high security company, we weren't allowed to have our cellphone inside so we've been talking alot in office, on facebook and smses... she initiates most of the chats... maybe it's normal for her but I don't usually talk to people when I'm alone. So we talked loh... Until somewhere, somehow, there was a little gossiping and cupid playing around me and Ann. The cupids were really messing around with the two of us alot. I found out she was single, I was confused, so why the ring on the ring finger? She can't possibly not know what the ring finger is for, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at this particular night, she popped a very surprising question. She asked me if I like her. Then many questions popped in my head... why is she asking this? What did I do? What did I say? Is there a chance she has feelings for me already? I did have some feelings for her but tried to avoid the topic and beat around the bush abit giving very vague answers as I thought she is still with someone and I didn't want to ruin their relationship. I tried as hard as possible to pull away from the topic as I know it will get very awkward in office. I thought finally I could pull it off by comparing what GJ was doing, I said, "Well, I didn't send you home nor kiss you on the cheek and ran away, what do you think?" but to my even bigger surprise, she said "Just so you know, I do admire some of your traits.." To which I replied, "yea, me too then." I'm like huh?! So was that like a confession? So now what? I'm not looking for any relationship right now. I declared that we'd be friends first. The next working day was really awkward as expected but we warmed back up soon after... She started her short-selling to convince me that she's no good. I wasn't convinced, in fact I realized that there's something very special about her I couldn't put into words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;6 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She cried 2 times since... and I wasn't there... I found out that she really was with someone... Questions popped up again. So is she using me to teach her 'bf' a lesson? Am I her rebound? Is she a player? I tried to stay away and not be too close to her since we're still friends. I still had feelings for her, a little stronger than before, talked to many of my friends and pretty much decided that I will give it a try. So this night we went out to Clarke Quay, had some booze. We were placed in very uncomfortable positions emotionally when we played Truth or Dare. We played till around 3am. I had to send the girls home, it was only right to do so. She insisted to go home herself, but in a flash of a moment, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the cab. My determination was stronger. Then she suggested to send Daisy home first, which we did. Then I alighted at her place to make sure she's home safely, she wasn't really sober and I had to pee. She went up, and I went to pee. So that was it I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought wrong! After I peed, she called to tell me she came back down to look for me and wanted to talk, I quickly walked back to her place, not knowing she already came looking for me. How drama is that! So as I expected, the talk was about us, but surprisingly, she also decided... the opposite of what I decided, I wanted to give this a try but she was short selling herself again. Saying she no good and all. She say she wasn't ready. It was a little tug of war that ended 2 hrs later, I asked if she wanted a hug cos I felt she needed one and to my surprise after saying she's not ready, she leaped into my arms gave me a really tight hug! Then a another stunner came when she hugged halfway and stopped to ask if I was okay?! I was uber in shock! What was that question for, what does the hug means, what exactly is this girl up to??! She's saying no but doesn't act like a no at all... I took a cab home... confused but happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;9 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day was quite a shocker for me again, I thought it was a normal day until at night I found out she was crying alone somewhere after work, I wanted to go home, but GJ made it sound worst than it seems so I ran as fast as I could to find her only to be pushed away and asked to go home, I tried to comfort her but wasn't in the position to comfort her through touch. I just don't anyhow touch girls unlike most people. It was when I almost walked away then she started talking... I couldn't quite remember what was said but I managed to make her laugh finally. Then the conversation went back to us. She still wasn't ready so I thought we'll go slowly then, stay as friends maybe until July but she say she only needed 2 weeks. So we agreed to wait... but she stun me again! The next evening, she invited me to have dinner with her parents!!! I was like... what the... again, I was confused but happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;14-15 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the week we talked alot, she was short-selling herself again and kept asking if I was really okay with seeing her parents. I re-affirmed her time and time again. She cried alot this week also... over her Ex...&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was here, it was the first time we, as friends in the workplace go out together. I didn't expect it to be a long day but it was a long day... which ended in some very drama goose chase... (not my story, not gonna write) I sent her home, the short-selling conversation still went on... in my car, I re-affirmed her again and she left me with a super long hug and 2 surprising pecks on my cheek. She didn't let go after the peck, I felt that she wanted a peck back but I told her I don't do kisses, wanted to save for wedding day. So she finally left the car, both of us seem very happy, I was smiling ear to ear all the way back... it was the first time I was kissed by a girl. Not counting family and relatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next day, I was like... wait a minute... she hugged me and kiss me so doesn't that means we're together? So I went to confirm with her before I went to meet her parents for dinner. 15 May 2011. Official date. We laid down the rules for the relationship, no calling her ah lian, gave me the green light to hug anytime. Expects me to hold her hand and also expects a little peck on the cheek every now and then. I agreed, no lip to lip kissing though, I heard of no kissing till wedding day stories and thought it was kind of nice and wanted it as well. So anyway, today was the day the stars seems so much brighter that I could see them in the day time! And so begins the story of Ann Choo &amp;amp; Andrew Wai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTx4TgMHMx8/Te832ZqoZhI/AAAAAAAAFC8/LgVJIArcM8w/s320/AnnChooAndrew.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 152px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615768668096456210" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;17 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only 2 days and I've met up with her best friends... It was cool, they were nice people, not as judgmental as I thought it would be. We had a few good laughs so I guess I passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;18 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the very next day, the 3rd day into our relationship we quarreled! Oh my! 3 days! I was just as hurt but I kept it inside and quickly apologized first... I can't lose her now... It was like the fish who bit my little finger and got away. Said I broke her into smaller pieces...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;19 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took half day off to settle a signature in school then I switched off my phone, I didn't know how to talk to her, just couldn't find the right words, in fear of ever hurting her again. That night I went to the beach to pray and cry for 2 hours before I went home and I lied to her that my battery died cos the night b4 never charge so I didn't reply her. (reasonable excuse I think) Then we talked over the phone and sorted things out, only to realize we've fallen deeper than we thought. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;22 May 2011&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our one week anniversary, I was too busy with my project and couldn't go out with her but to my surprise again! She wanted to pass me something, insisted very much to get my address and I thought it was a hug but wow, she passed me a love token, a couple necklace, loosely around our neck, hanging close to the heart, pendant was a ring with 2 diamond stars and with our initials embedded on each other. How sweet and so silly of her, I brought her up to my place to wait till I finish my project then I can send her home. It was very late, we hugged and I pecked her cheek, she pecked mine in the car, I could feel like she wanted the kiss on the lips but I looked away, she still held on to me, I insisted to keep it for wedding day but she said the most stunning thing ever in my life, at first she asked if I'm really gonna call the cops if she took my first kiss with which I replied no la, then she blurted out "I'm gonna rape you!" Still holding onto me, she just lean in for it and she was so determined to kiss me, I struggled abit but eventually her determination won, I was just too weak at the same time I sort of wanted and I just couldn't reject her. It takes alot of courage for a girl to initiate something like that, had to give it to her. It was really strange at first cos I didn't know how but slowly I got the hang of it and we almost tongued... I thought it would taste weird but turned out to be so yummy! Then I got addicted... I did alot of kissing and hugging later on in our relationship...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the story of my first kiss... the story goes on, even more drama, tears, laughter and excitement but it also gets a little NC-16 and above so to avoid me being bashed up, elbowed, kicked, punched, pinched, bitten, kneed, and side stared at by my girlfriend who is going to bash me up anyway for posting this, I shall not continue. Despite the abuse, bite marks and blue-blacks, to most people reading this, you must think I am blind and really crazy to have fallen for such an amazing girl like her. Truth is, I know I'm blind and crazy but I still love her very much...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7886820555098573609?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7886820555098573609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7886820555098573609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/how-stunning-crab-meets-gentle-sea.html' title='How the Stunning Crab Meets the Gentle Sea'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkuS2vhqKM/Te526_EAZ4I/AAAAAAAAFCE/TNSKInBYaaA/s72-c/Sep06080017_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1906294473692704164</id><published>2011-06-07T14:43:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T16:23:45.119+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SINNED!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V00YVdgCaEw/Te57eI_kZHI/AAAAAAAAFCc/G2heL6tJI2I/s1600/sin-picture.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V00YVdgCaEw/Te57eI_kZHI/AAAAAAAAFCc/G2heL6tJI2I/s320/sin-picture.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615561543117988978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;I made a terrible mistake, I have SINNED!! I even try to convince myself that it's okay... everybody does it, since you've already done it, might as well continue... no harm done, everyone involved is happy right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but "A sin is a sin!"&lt;br /&gt;"Let's say you committed theft or murder, is it okay to continue stealing and killing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was given a choice, Don't want or Don't scared. Why did pride overwhelm the words of God, why couldn't I hear You say... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"The LORD is my shepherd;I shall not want." - Psalm 23:1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?" - 2 Corinthians 6:14&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please give me self-control. Not the opportunity to learn it but really give it to me... is it too much to ask from an Almighty God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the nails on the fence, I have left a mark on not only my life, but also another's life... Give me the courage to say no... without hurting another... in Jesus name I pray. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1906294473692704164?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1906294473692704164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1906294473692704164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/sinned.html' title='SINNED!!!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V00YVdgCaEw/Te57eI_kZHI/AAAAAAAAFCc/G2heL6tJI2I/s72-c/sin-picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4171823162580292243</id><published>2011-06-07T14:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T14:43:02.005+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things are better left unsaid.</title><content type='html'>There's something I want to blog about but I think I'll save as draft first... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things are better left unsaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a time for everything, and now is not really the right time... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, there's much to do. I'll write it another time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4171823162580292243?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4171823162580292243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4171823162580292243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/some-things-are-better-left-unsaid.html' title='Some things are better left unsaid.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6012424874150485094</id><published>2011-06-02T10:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T11:17:05.457+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nails in the Fence</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-swlBLhi6vBA/Teb8Cjb_VUI/AAAAAAAAFAw/BfYkujuUNIU/s1600/certified_original-blog-top.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 210px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-swlBLhi6vBA/Teb8Cjb_VUI/AAAAAAAAFAw/BfYkujuUNIU/s320/certified_original-blog-top.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613451106366477634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is as real as I can get. There's nothing to hide. I am what you see. Fully defined in details. What I believe, what I like, what I don't like, what I do and why I do them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing concealed are my emotions. Never will they see light, never will I let emotions run my life, so I suppress them, be it good or bad emotions. This is so that the worst emotion, Anger, never gets out. People say the most regretful and hurtful things when they are angry, for even the strongest saint may fall to this. So until I find a better solution to manage my emotions, I can only suppress it with a smile and a little funny sarcasm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of the story of "Nails in the Fence"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OIKH8SaKOWk/Teb-8Bjti9I/AAAAAAAAFA4/EM3zPV5lMHY/s320/nail.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613454292727729106" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the day came when the boy didn’t lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, “You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won’t matter how many times you say I’m sorry, the wound is still there.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy then understood how powerful his words were. He looked up at his father and said “I hope you can forgive me father for the holes I put in you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Of course I can,” said the father.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6012424874150485094?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6012424874150485094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6012424874150485094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/nails-in-fence.html' title='Nails in the Fence'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-swlBLhi6vBA/Teb8Cjb_VUI/AAAAAAAAFAw/BfYkujuUNIU/s72-c/certified_original-blog-top.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3240152236706648340</id><published>2011-06-02T09:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T10:40:32.797+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get a Grip on Myself!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN-wdeAL-hY/TebtRbCj1vI/AAAAAAAAFAo/kyWWMN0M-Cs/s1600/grip.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN-wdeAL-hY/TebtRbCj1vI/AAAAAAAAFAo/kyWWMN0M-Cs/s320/grip.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613434869135955698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get a grip on yourself, Andrew! You was not like that just a month ago... now jealousy is coupled with rage??? Last time see already, say abit, now just the thought of it seems to make my blood boil, how liddat? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though she's your girlfriend, remember anger resolves nothing and fighting is the worst solution. Keep cool, just don't think about it. &lt;font color=gray&gt;&lt;i&gt;(eh? this wasn't my voice... Ah... the voice of goodness.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, my Saviour, my Life and my Joy, I thank You for all the wonderful things that have happened over the past 2 months, thank You for giving me the desires of my heart, nothing was what I could ever imagined. Thank You for loving me even when I sin, I'm sorry for falling into sin again, I let anger, jealousy, lust, greed and pride took over me... Sorry for 'kicking' you away again... Please hold onto me, I fear that I may lose myself eventually. The loading of family, work, school and recently a lover that requires a little more time than I thought is getting overwhelming and out of my hands. I know this is to teach me self-control, a test for the fruit of self-control to bloom. I pray once again for all the fruits of the Holy Spirit, Love, Peace, Joy, Patience, Goodness, Kindness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-control. Let my life be a living testimony to Christ Jesus, use me to reflect the glory and love of God. Please take the seat in my life and guide me back on the path of righteousness. A path that I can tell my children and grandchildren that You are real. In Jesus Christ most precious name I pray. Amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3240152236706648340?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3240152236706648340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3240152236706648340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/06/jealousy.html' title='Get a Grip on Myself!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN-wdeAL-hY/TebtRbCj1vI/AAAAAAAAFAo/kyWWMN0M-Cs/s72-c/grip.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7775099942077634026</id><published>2011-05-30T19:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T19:53:26.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chill Relax Layback</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K4y1Sg2X5uY/TeOEqGdJRgI/AAAAAAAAFAg/wOgsOm4fnC4/s1600/2943826-Travel_Picture-Sit_back_relax_and_enjoy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K4y1Sg2X5uY/TeOEqGdJRgI/AAAAAAAAFAg/wOgsOm4fnC4/s320/2943826-Travel_Picture-Sit_back_relax_and_enjoy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612475419455997442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's happening to me? I'm getting worried over a girl who's older than me... this is bad... i can see symptoms of me losing myself... need to tell myself that she can take care of herself, so chill... relax... layback... Do your project. Deadline before 23.59.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7775099942077634026?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7775099942077634026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7775099942077634026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/chill-relax-layback.html' title='Chill Relax Layback'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K4y1Sg2X5uY/TeOEqGdJRgI/AAAAAAAAFAg/wOgsOm4fnC4/s72-c/2943826-Travel_Picture-Sit_back_relax_and_enjoy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7067649618914400524</id><published>2011-05-30T11:51:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T12:39:38.391+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chipmunks - As Long As You Love Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="380" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ugYIN8HXaPA?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was younger I liked this song alot but could never put a face to have this song sang to... now I have... cos Loneliness has always been a friend of mine, I kept everything to myself, my problems, my pain and my emotions were only known to me and my God, I never show my true emotions to anybody, because it never turned out good, until I met someone completely out of my league and I'd have to be really crazy or blind to actually want to be with that person. Nobody could ever imagine a pair like us. She has been shortselling herself and trying to scare me away but little did she know she's already got me blinded. She's been putting much images of her in my head and I have to constantly tell her it doesn't matter what her history is. I didn't care what she did, where she lived and who she is or how bad she thinks she is... It really seems I'm really risking it all in a glance... everything seems so fast. I took a leap and now I can't stop falling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every little things like "JOKING CANNOT AH!" or the bi sai jokes and all the naked shiny running around that she has said, and every little things that her tipsy molly did usually after midnight, feels like it's deep within me (especially her teeth marks and saliva). Doesn't matter how hectic or chaotic her life is, running around pleasing everyone, no matter how busy or how complete opposites we are and impossible a pair we may be, it still feels like we're meant to be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been trying hide this little silly dream of mine, hoping nobody knows. But I guess it shows when we looked into each other's eyes. It doesn't matter if she has a spare tire, double chin, a few tattoos, multiple piercings, Madonna tooth, smells like Tiger beer or Marlboro...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As long as she's here with me... As long as she loves me... As long as I know I'm no longer alone... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7067649618914400524?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7067649618914400524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7067649618914400524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/alvin-chipmunks-as-long-as-you-love-me.html' title='The Chipmunks - As Long As You Love Me'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ugYIN8HXaPA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3321034616698263904</id><published>2011-05-30T03:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T03:19:59.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girlfriend is a Vampire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7lrHRwRPXEA/TeKZURLxWRI/AAAAAAAAE_8/qLx_0Cqzv4g/s1600/EAABC03B.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7lrHRwRPXEA/TeKZURLxWRI/AAAAAAAAE_8/qLx_0Cqzv4g/s320/EAABC03B.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612216659146266898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to save her and she suck my soul out and bit me... literally... ow... the mark on the shoulder is huge!! I wonder how the one on my left bicep came about though... hmmm... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And most importantly, I felt the connection!! I only felt physical attraction all the way until just now, there was a tint of emotional joy that runs deep within the soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Initially I thought I'm either emotionally dead or maybe it really is going to take some time for me to reach there. Like the little psychology quiz, I have high stone walls around my floating castle, means I'm a closed person, not to the point I will hide stuff about myself or my secrets but emotionally I just cannot be reached. I often feel a sense of detachment from those around me. I can form bonds of friendship, but there is always distance in my relationships. To me it seems that there is a certain bridge that I just cannot cross, no matter how close I get to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days it makes me sad. Other days I'm content to just being in my own little world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I asked my sis what exactly does it feels like to have a connection feeling, she says its the warm fuzzy feeling inside but my only recollection of having that feeling ever was when my mom or sis give me a back massage or when they help me to squeeze the pimples on my back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I'm so happy, I'm not a vampire nor a robot!! I'm human!!! Just a little slow... that's all... a little slow...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3321034616698263904?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3321034616698263904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3321034616698263904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-girlfriend-is-vampire.html' title='My Girlfriend is a Vampire'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7lrHRwRPXEA/TeKZURLxWRI/AAAAAAAAE_8/qLx_0Cqzv4g/s72-c/EAABC03B.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8642044087431204873</id><published>2011-05-28T11:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T11:38:45.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Core of my stress attacks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pEHtlsPwPpk/TeBtx3xNKcI/AAAAAAAAE_s/zXGBdSCFk8w/s1600/studyDM0708_228x306.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 306px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pEHtlsPwPpk/TeBtx3xNKcI/AAAAAAAAE_s/zXGBdSCFk8w/s320/studyDM0708_228x306.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611605839254989250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized the stress is coming more from school than anywhere else... Maybe it's the deadlines that stresses me out... The idea that I'm being judged at a specific time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found this out when I'm eating more chocolates than usual when I'm trying to figure out how to do my projects...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8642044087431204873?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8642044087431204873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8642044087431204873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/core-of-my-stress-attacks.html' title='Core of my stress attacks.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pEHtlsPwPpk/TeBtx3xNKcI/AAAAAAAAE_s/zXGBdSCFk8w/s72-c/studyDM0708_228x306.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3393776845213924263</id><published>2011-05-22T13:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T13:18:12.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Level Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uclDUTKUoUc/TdiY37bUMYI/AAAAAAAAE_U/0-dgFGKEmFI/s1600/levelUP.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uclDUTKUoUc/TdiY37bUMYI/AAAAAAAAE_U/0-dgFGKEmFI/s320/levelUP.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609401422502441346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize I don't usually blog about happy stuff here. It's either the dreams I had which I use to understand myself or plans I have or negative emotions but rarely I put a happy emotion here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I don't really know how to put the happiness emotion into words. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3393776845213924263?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3393776845213924263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3393776845213924263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/level-up.html' title='Level Up!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uclDUTKUoUc/TdiY37bUMYI/AAAAAAAAE_U/0-dgFGKEmFI/s72-c/levelUP.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-241462429959162353</id><published>2011-05-22T11:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T13:01:34.188+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombie Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsQBZ2n95kc/TdiJ1oEUrOI/AAAAAAAAE_M/m7A8Mkm6gww/s1600/zombies.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsQBZ2n95kc/TdiJ1oEUrOI/AAAAAAAAE_M/m7A8Mkm6gww/s320/zombies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609384890271575266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsQBZ2n95kc/TdiJ1oEUrOI/AAAAAAAAE_M/m7A8Mkm6gww/s1600/zombies.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreamt that I was fighting a big zombie, he was fast, he used charge attack on us, I was not alone, there were others. So the big zombie about 2 meters tall had thick skin, built and strong, he could bash through walls. I was somehow faster than I usually am in this dream, I had this very special shotgun that needs to be loaded with this special double-sided bullet. I can only load 5 of these double-sided bullet into the shotgun but I only had 4 and a half. So in the end I had only 9 shots at the big zombie. I dodged very well at his charge attacks at me, rolling away like some hero. Took a few shots and missed, then rolled away again, took a few shots and hit but because the skin was too thick, the bullet didn't penetrate. Then finally I'm left with a few bullets left, I did much running and hiding, panting and discussing with others on what to do and somehow my last shot managed to bring the big zombie down.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I was in another dream, again zombies, I was fighting them with my bare hands, slamming, punching and kicking. The mobs got more and more and I got more tired. They were not easy to whack, but I was weak. I retreated with the other survivors into a shopping mall. These zombies were of normal size, slow and dumb, they didn't know they can't walk through glass doors so they all end up walking into the shopping mall glass doors but couldn't get through. Suddenly I felt very urgent and quickly rushed into the toilet, and a girl came out of the toilet, we jumped and I realize I was in the wrong toilet but I didn't care cos I was really urgent so I went in and let go. *wakes up and realize it's a dream and went to the toilet to pee* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;My Interpretation&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This wasn't really a nightmare else I'd have woken up in sweat. I used to have me running away from zombies or monsters but now I'm fighting them, this obviously shows I have become stronger subconsciously. I am no longer running away from hidden feelings and emotions but rather facing them head on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first part of the dream, the big zombie probably represents a strong negative emotion, chances are it is peer pressure. Me fighting it means an inner conflict that I am trying to solve. To dream that I'm being attacked, indicates my character is being questioned. I feel the need to defend myself. My hidden feelings here are stress, vulnerable and helplessness. The bullets signifies my words and a reminder to be cautious of what I say. Words are a double-edged sword. Me shooting the big zombie means my hidden aggression and anger towards this unknown aspect of myself. Slowly but surely, I will defeat this part of me. A sign that something positive will happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second part, is the same meaning the same thing as the first and a confirmation to the first. The zombies represents a strong negative emotion also probably peer pressure, me fighting back means an inner conflict, me getting tired just means me being tired of fighting this emotion, and even me going to pee means a successful release or overcoming of my emotions. Me in a mall just means that I'm trying to make an impression, trying to proof myself. Me not caring about me going into the girls toilet means me going out of my way and following my gut feelings despite the situation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-241462429959162353?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/241462429959162353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/241462429959162353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/zombie-dream.html' title='Zombie Dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsQBZ2n95kc/TdiJ1oEUrOI/AAAAAAAAE_M/m7A8Mkm6gww/s72-c/zombies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3400114483372977356</id><published>2011-05-22T10:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T11:23:23.571+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meaning of Rings on Fingers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZTYmills-E/Tdh9IPHDooI/AAAAAAAAE_E/Z08sjBg4Ipk/s1600/lens15352671_1289595537rings.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 193px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZTYmills-E/Tdh9IPHDooI/AAAAAAAAE_E/Z08sjBg4Ipk/s320/lens15352671_1289595537rings.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609370916338508418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZTYmills-E/Tdh9IPHDooI/AAAAAAAAE_E/Z08sjBg4Ipk/s1600/lens15352671_1289595537rings.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Different rings have different meaning and here's what I found.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thumb ring is Poseidon (individuality, independence, freedom)&lt;br /&gt;Index finger ring is Zeus (dominance, power, energy)&lt;br /&gt;Middle finger ring is Dionysus (irreverence, rebellion, decadence)&lt;br /&gt;Ring finger is Aphrodite (love, romance, connection)&lt;br /&gt;Pinky ring is Ares (conflict, assertiveness, cometitiveness)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No rings is Hermes (friendliness, helpfulness, adventure) &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/7689533-3400114483372977356?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3400114483372977356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3400114483372977356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/different-rings-have-different-meaning.html' title='Meaning of Rings on Fingers'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZTYmills-E/Tdh9IPHDooI/AAAAAAAAE_E/Z08sjBg4Ipk/s72-c/lens15352671_1289595537rings.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1982134545055440131</id><published>2011-05-19T15:44:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T16:18:39.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloody books...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O9PXZGdTiY8/TdTKzuiUKHI/AAAAAAAAE-8/nQfjd6LJHWQ/s1600/BloodyRose1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 271px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O9PXZGdTiY8/TdTKzuiUKHI/AAAAAAAAE-8/nQfjd6LJHWQ/s320/BloodyRose1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608330425997207666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pain and pleasure drives people to make changes... Recently I just experience some of that and I think it's time to change... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am clueless when it comes to matters of the heart. But I'm not the sort who would do nothing about it. So I went to read it up and learn as much as I could, to prepare myself for every possible setback that may happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever do everything you could&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for the better and for the good&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but only to be disappointed and misunderstood&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It hurts so bad inside, feeling so darn blue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like many knifes endlessly poking you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Left in utter confusion without a clue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just as I thought it couldn't get any worst&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was knowing that I've hurt someone I love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that brought tears rolling down my cheek curves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bloody books, theories and thoughts, think so far, feel so tired&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Should not have taught or plead, selfishly wanting only what I desired&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it was something I did or said, maybe.. I should.. just.. keep.. quiet...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1982134545055440131?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1982134545055440131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1982134545055440131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/bloody-books.html' title='Bloody books...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O9PXZGdTiY8/TdTKzuiUKHI/AAAAAAAAE-8/nQfjd6LJHWQ/s72-c/BloodyRose1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3902644581530411325</id><published>2011-05-17T14:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T14:25:03.819+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bruno Mars - The Lazy Song [Official Video]</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="400" height="245" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fLexgOxsZu0?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3902644581530411325?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3902644581530411325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3902644581530411325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/bruno-mars-lazy-song-official-video.html' title='Bruno Mars - The Lazy Song [Official Video]'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/fLexgOxsZu0/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7938767388635926776</id><published>2011-05-15T10:46:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T12:23:34.527+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone is Reading My Blog... Someone...</title><content type='html'>Last night I found out that someone special is reading my blog. She's not really good at listening cos she always interrupts me when I try to talk but it's okay cos I do that sometimes too and since she's reading my blog, my greatest expression of myself and probably nearest to how I truly feel and think about stuff. I have a reassurance that she still knows how I feel, don't know if she would understand though. I'm happy she told me, this is where I cannot be interrupted. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I read in the body language book that if you cross your arms, not only is it a sign of insecurity but it will immediately make you unreceptive to what is heard. Now every time when I try to talk, i'll be taking note of this particular body sign. I also read a few chapters earlier that smiles and laughter are infectious and used for building bonds, which confirms what I believe, that "Laughter is the shortest distance between two people." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And finally, I had the longest hug I've ever had in years... I'm having a strong feeling that cannot be expressed in words... and since talk is cheap, let's put in simply in a picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1CcKoJUymA/Tc9HS7J-1UI/AAAAAAAAE-0/2Xp_G6E22MU/s320/apple_in_love____by_c_time.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606778451542332738" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm still contemplating her love language... How to make her feel loved so I don't waste my time and efforts. =X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ann, if you're reading this, below are my thoughts, they are my honest worries about the future and is NOT advisable to be read as it may sound a little intimidating but I'm taking that risk of scary you away yet I really hope that you know how I feel and understand. You said you're not looking for a fling, neither am I. Saying is easy so I'm making every effort to show you I'm serious.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm... Rejects my kit-kat and stomp on flowers before so definitely not 'Receiving Gifts' (phew, can save money here). Helps people and mentioned several times about how her friends and ex have helped her during her dark times, dependent and also independent but shuts me off many times when I try to help her with anything, so there is a 50% chance that it is 'Acts of Service'. Complains about names calling, subconsciously asking for reassurance while denying it and feels upset when unappreciated, so it might be 'Words of affirmation'. Shows much concern for the close people around her and complains when not shown concern and understanding, take time out to walk alone, finds a confidante to talk when really upset or confused, so I think there is a high possibility that it is 'Quality Time'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If this is true den the nearest probable issue to appear is that we are on different shifts from June onwards. August onwards, OT would be lesser, meaning even lesser time of seeing each other and I don't really have time on weekends cos of my projects until December. After that, next year January I'll be going for my interview to SIA, if I fail, then there is a high chance that plan B of going Australia to work for 2.5yrs will happen resulting in a 'Long Distance Relationship' unless I get promoted with equal expectations of pay and time or I somehow, miraculously convinced her to come over Aussie to stay with my Aunt (not close enough with each other for this to be possible yet), so... haiz... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pray I will pass my interview next year so I can stay in SG. To be there for someone. Thank you God for everything that has happened so far, my job, my family, my dreams, my health and the desires of my heart. Please bless me in this path I'm taking but let Your will be done, not mine. Lead me not to temptation of the human heart but guide me every step along the way to a holy and righteous life that pleases You. In Jesus Christ most precious name I pray. Amen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7938767388635926776?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7938767388635926776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7938767388635926776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/someone-is-reading-my-blog-someone.html' title='Someone is Reading My Blog... Someone...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1CcKoJUymA/Tc9HS7J-1UI/AAAAAAAAE-0/2Xp_G6E22MU/s72-c/apple_in_love____by_c_time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-9176433753666162842</id><published>2011-05-06T05:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T09:36:10.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream of Rabbits and a Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1XUM4iNixJY/TcXzVit-0eI/AAAAAAAAE-k/gPxSG7mczv8/s1600/rabbit_cat.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1XUM4iNixJY/TcXzVit-0eI/AAAAAAAAE-k/gPxSG7mczv8/s320/rabbit_cat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604152862754918882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1XUM4iNixJY/TcXzVit-0eI/AAAAAAAAE-k/gPxSG7mczv8/s1600/rabbit_cat.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a dream of bunnies, they were all just so cute, i was at my pasir ris home instead of tampines. It was a little weird that they had hunger bars and happiness bars like in games, then I went to feed them satay, I know they're vegetarians but somehow they ate meat. Then my sis cut satay right in front of their mouth while they eating and cut some of their fur, i told her 'there, i told u so'. I reprimanded her about how to look after rabbits. After some time their hunger bars were full but their happiness bar was only at 50%.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Meow" I turned around and there were always cats coming to our house, the neighbors one, we always shoo it away cos got guinea pig at home but in the dream we have rabbits right at the door. We were afraid that the rabbits would run out but we still left the door open. Our neighbors cat was white with some brown, it was cautiously moving towards us until it's bell gave it away. So we scare away the cat with a slipper, it kept coming back a few times but slowly we manage to completely scare the cat away. The happiness bar of the rabbits also slowly increased. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;My interpretation of this dream:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rabbits in my current home probably signify a mixture of my past and present, I try to do everything I can to make myself happy. I somehow knew what I was doing with matters of love and tries hard to convince the people around me that I am right. A sign that positive changes are about to happen if I start to get advise and consider the feelings of others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cat probably means a feminine side of me and my perspective of women, a force that may be trying to come into my present and do something about my past, and I love my past too much that I'd give myself the freedom to do whatever I want but fear they I might get hurt if I let my my feminine side get to me. So I go out of my means, sum up my courage rid away that feminine side of me, protecting my freedom of choice. Successfully scaring away the cat is a sign of overcoming a certain situation in life and positive changes will happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-9176433753666162842?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9176433753666162842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9176433753666162842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/dream-of-rabbits-and-cats.html' title='Dream of Rabbits and a Cat'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1XUM4iNixJY/TcXzVit-0eI/AAAAAAAAE-k/gPxSG7mczv8/s72-c/rabbit_cat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6068465046919043970</id><published>2011-05-02T18:49:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T22:30:53.664+08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Love Languages</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UHeywBLutYE/Tb6MSBgvKvI/AAAAAAAAE-U/QWHPI7WFwVg/s1600/5LL-men.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UHeywBLutYE/Tb6MSBgvKvI/AAAAAAAAE-U/QWHPI7WFwVg/s320/5LL-men.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602069227766754034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just finished this book. Very interesting concept of love, even though the whole book basically shares examples of how the concept was applied and worked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a recap of what I learnt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically, everyone of us has a love tank that our parents used to fill us up with since young then as we grow older, our love language may or may not change or maybe our parents stopped showing us love in our language, that is when our love tank become empty and that is when we will go out to find other ways to fill up our love tank. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unknowingly along the way, someone does a little something that actually fills up our love tank, that is when we 'fall in love'. When our tank is full, we feel like we can conquer the world once again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's the 5 basic love languages:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Words of Affirmation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quality Time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Receiving Gifts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acts of Service&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Physical Touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People with the love language of Words of Affirmation are those who needs to be encouraged, appreciated with words, sweet nothings of love and compliments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People who needs Quality Time are those who wants to talk face to face about life, work or basically anything will do, maybe not talking and just a simple stroll in the park together or it could be activities spent together like a sport.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Receiving Gifts is quite self explanatory, these people aren't really materialistic, the gifts might not be expensive, it can be self made, or even a little pebble found on the beach that is shaped like heart, there's also the gift of self, being there when he/she needs you the most.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acts of Service means things like making the bed, doing the laundry, getting dinner done, looking after the kids, it may not be permanent, when these little acts are done out of the blue may actually clear away some Monday blues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Physical Touch is usually mistaken as sexual intercourse but that's a completely different subject. Here, it is actually the stuff like a back rub, little brushing of arms when walking together, running your finger up each others hand or a little under table touching.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For me, this book has made me realized something important about me. I didn't require quality time cos I prefer to be alone, just blogging is fine. I hate receiving gifts, especially the ones I have no use for, I understand it's the thought that counts but thats just not my love language, I feel I that I'm the best person who knows what I really want, so just let me give myself gifts. I don't really need acts of service as I have grown very independent like how I blogged about before. Then there is physical touch, that is the one thing I always hope for every time I'm out with people and the thing that I never got at home nor can I give that to myself... Words of affirmation is probably my second, as I've grown to take criticism as a tool for growth and I always find quotes to encourage myself but I guess it's really different when you finally hear it from someone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, here's a few quotes I took note of from the book that are rather meaningful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The best thing we can do with failures of the past is to let them be history."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"We cannot erase the past, but we can accept it as history."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Forgiveness is not a feeling; it is a commitment. It is a choice to show mercy, not to hold the offense up against the offender. Forgiveness is an expression of love."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Gifts need not be expensive, nor must they be given weekly. But for some individuals, their worth has nothing to do with monetary value and everything to do with love."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"People tend to criticize their spouse most loudly  in the area where they themselves have the deepest emotional need."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"As creatures of choice, we have the capacity to make poor choices but poor choices in the past don't mean we must make them in the future. Make the choice to love now."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Love  doesn't erase the past, but it makes the future different."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I want to believe that I am significant, but I may not feel significant until someone expresses love to me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Without love, I may spend a lifetime in search of significance, self-worth, and security." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Love is not the answer to everything, but it creates a climate of security in which we can seek answers to those things that bother us."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Since love is such a deep emotional need, the lack of it is perhaps our deepest emotional pain."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6068465046919043970?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6068465046919043970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6068465046919043970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/5-love-languages.html' title='5 Love Languages'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UHeywBLutYE/Tb6MSBgvKvI/AAAAAAAAE-U/QWHPI7WFwVg/s72-c/5LL-men.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-6776763395557823111</id><published>2011-05-01T16:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T16:07:39.404+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Need more self-control</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Of-bRXSvXzM/Tb0Tk5_fPvI/AAAAAAAAE-M/4GZq0utYQsA/s1600/Self_Control.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Of-bRXSvXzM/Tb0Tk5_fPvI/AAAAAAAAE-M/4GZq0utYQsA/s320/Self_Control.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601655036282093298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know how long more I can take this... I'm having alot of pressure in office... and my love tank is very near empty... I believe You placed this situation in my life now to test me, I also believed You'll give me the fruit of self-control to contain myself and to rely only on You. Fill me up with Your love so I may overflow and continue to love the people around me. In Jesus name I pray, amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-6776763395557823111?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6776763395557823111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/6776763395557823111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/need-more-self-control.html' title='Need more self-control'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Of-bRXSvXzM/Tb0Tk5_fPvI/AAAAAAAAE-M/4GZq0utYQsA/s72-c/Self_Control.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-9060191537159228794</id><published>2011-05-01T00:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T00:41:11.207+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Happy</title><content type='html'>Be happy. Talk happiness. Happiness calls out responsive gladness in others. There is enough sadness in the world without yours . never doubt the excellence and permanence of what is yet to be. Join the great company of those who make the barren places of life fruitful with kindness. Your success and happiness lie in you. The great enduring realities are love and service. Resolve to keep happy and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Helen Keller&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-9060191537159228794?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9060191537159228794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/9060191537159228794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/05/be-happy.html' title='Be Happy'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7976914605122080961</id><published>2011-04-30T19:30:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T22:07:26.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Banana!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-58lakLkWbsk/TbwQt1CIu3I/AAAAAAAAE-E/wdB7hPriE8Q/s1600/banana.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-58lakLkWbsk/TbwQt1CIu3I/AAAAAAAAE-E/wdB7hPriE8Q/s320/banana.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601370416058252146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-58lakLkWbsk/TbwQt1CIu3I/AAAAAAAAE-E/wdB7hPriE8Q/s1600/banana.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Crap! I AM A BANANA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“banana” - a yellow-skinned fruit with a white core. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm chinese who can speak chinese but I can't read!!! I failed chinese since young probably because I hated chinese when I was young, I guess I just hated my chinese teachers. I only had bad memories of all of them... One was an old and bold guy who slept in class after giving assignments for us to do, another was an old lady with curly hair who didn't believed in me and categorized me as a bad boy just because I sat with the naughty kids in class (like I had a choice) and even brought me to the principal's office for interrogation of this case of writing the teachers name as "old pig" on an unnamed exercise book (hello! I fail chinese, how would I know how to write!). Then later I manage to just pass when I had this teacher who was a little more patient and took extra time to teach me personally but later she left and poof! so was my chinese... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During my 'O' levels, my chinese teacher sent me to take CLB, basic chinese, instead of the normal chinese, I was the only one sent there in my class, how saddening can that be... I didn't know anyone there... I've been walking a path of loneliness, solitude and isolation for whole my whole quarter of my life... Even during my poly life, I already made many friends but none were interested in the things I do, I joined many CCAs that none of my classmates were interested in... so in the end I had to keep making new friends... When I went out to work part time, nobody was interested to work with me, and again I had to make new friends... When I went army, nobody I knew went to the same company with me and again I have to make new friends... Then when I came out and wanted to pursue dancing but nobody was interested and so I went to take the courses alone and again I had to make new friends.... now I come out to work... the same things happened... Currently I have 615 friends on facebook, probably only half of which are good friends, and only about 1% close friends but Zero best friend and no soulmate yet... Am I really meant for this path of a loner... I know I am a warrior but...  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait a minute... why am I talking bout my path of loneliness suddenly... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the banana's fault! They're making me bananas!! Gonna eat them all!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7976914605122080961?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7976914605122080961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7976914605122080961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/banana.html' title='Banana!!!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-58lakLkWbsk/TbwQt1CIu3I/AAAAAAAAE-E/wdB7hPriE8Q/s72-c/banana.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4135936623751304355</id><published>2011-04-30T14:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T14:55:54.727+08:00</updated><title type='text'>他一定很愛你 阿杜</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/DFmUtdkZIVY?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4135936623751304355?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4135936623751304355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4135936623751304355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html' title='他一定很愛你 阿杜'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/DFmUtdkZIVY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2313429850718234694</id><published>2011-04-27T23:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T23:49:20.396+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Puddle of Lesson</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zSmjeoaW0bw/Tbgy4bG9XiI/AAAAAAAAE98/WVeinIxyElA/s1600/puddle.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zSmjeoaW0bw/Tbgy4bG9XiI/AAAAAAAAE98/WVeinIxyElA/s320/puddle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600282081566219810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zSmjeoaW0bw/Tbgy4bG9XiI/AAAAAAAAE98/WVeinIxyElA/s1600/puddle.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Was cycling down the same road back but it was a little wet... Then out of nowhere there was a bigger puddle of water in the middle of the path where I was cycling on. I was travelling at a reasonable speed, then I thought, should I go left or right to go around it but before I thought of a solution, I got too close and just went straight through it, getting a little splash that I would have avoided.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then it struck me that sometimes life is like that. We encounter some potential problem that might mess us up somehow and we know the solution to overcome them. We have a few solution as a matter of fact. Then sometimes, reluctantly we couldn't decide which solution was the best and soon enough we ended up crashing straight into the problem that could very well been avoided.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, the best solution may not always be the best in the end. Maybe just picking any solution would have been a better choice to start with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2313429850718234694?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2313429850718234694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2313429850718234694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/puddle-of-lesson.html' title='Puddle of Lesson'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zSmjeoaW0bw/Tbgy4bG9XiI/AAAAAAAAE98/WVeinIxyElA/s72-c/puddle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4104837140374855334</id><published>2011-04-25T23:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T23:36:08.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tongue Tied...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a_EbDSmvyuw/TbWO6YRs9wI/AAAAAAAAE9k/mSBC82sic4c/s1600/437832-Royalty-Free-RF-Clip-Art-Illustration-Of-A-Cartoon-Boy-Sticking-His-Tied-Tongue-Out.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a_EbDSmvyuw/TbWO6YRs9wI/AAAAAAAAE9k/mSBC82sic4c/s320/437832-Royalty-Free-RF-Clip-Art-Illustration-Of-A-Cartoon-Boy-Sticking-His-Tied-Tongue-Out.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599538845305337602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tongue Tied like I machiam choked on a fishball or something... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cmon' Andrew, snap out of it! Just be yourself, just be normal alright!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4104837140374855334?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4104837140374855334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4104837140374855334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/tongue-tied.html' title='Tongue Tied...'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a_EbDSmvyuw/TbWO6YRs9wI/AAAAAAAAE9k/mSBC82sic4c/s72-c/437832-Royalty-Free-RF-Clip-Art-Illustration-Of-A-Cartoon-Boy-Sticking-His-Tied-Tongue-Out.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5607622824863278322</id><published>2011-04-24T21:58:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T23:52:22.117+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How God Changed My Life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I never realized this until my mei took out the old photo album and said "How come you never smile in your pictures?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cN8MPjVgDUs/TbQtlX74JTI/AAAAAAAAE9E/1kgF_wGLIeg/s1600/macNme.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cN8MPjVgDUs/TbQtlX74JTI/AAAAAAAAE9E/1kgF_wGLIeg/s320/macNme.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599150356831937842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cos I was never a happy kid... I didn't know anything about the world, I didn't know anything about money or love for the matter of fact. I didn't know my parents were rich to the point my dad had 2 Mercedes Benz parked in the carpark and got it changed a few times. I didn't know I was a known as a spoiled kid, I had everything I wanted, every toy I got my eye on, I got it the next minute just by staring at it long enough, literally. I had so much toys, they piled up into mountains that I could no longer see the carpet floor in my room. I didn't know what I really wanted... I just kept asking for more...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s-jNV7562dk/TbQtkmUGnqI/AAAAAAAAE80/-KUKqTyAwUw/s1600/cny.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s-jNV7562dk/TbQtkmUGnqI/AAAAAAAAE80/-KUKqTyAwUw/s320/cny.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599150343511776930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until my younger sis was born, she too was treated like a precious jewel, dad carried me less and lesser as the years go by, I didn't know I was getting heavier, I thought they didn't liked me anymore, so I became even unhappier, I quarreled with my parents alot, cried even more and detested my younger sis. Often I made her cry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s-jNV7562dk/TbQtkmUGnqI/AAAAAAAAE80/-KUKqTyAwUw/s1600/cny.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PcwTMQX5UhU/TbQtkRy6YuI/AAAAAAAAE8s/RT1m3244BvA/s1600/sand.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PcwTMQX5UhU/TbQtkRy6YuI/AAAAAAAAE8s/RT1m3244BvA/s320/sand.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599150338003854050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PcwTMQX5UhU/TbQtkRy6YuI/AAAAAAAAE8s/RT1m3244BvA/s1600/sand.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But she was still a happy kid, always putting on a smile... When I was in school I didn't score well for my grades cos all I thought about were my toys which later on I was introduced to video games. I didn't know my parents spent alot on tuition for me, I didn't like it, I just liked the sweets that the tuition teachers gave. I continued to score badly for my grades, I didn't know the importance of going to school, I didn't know I was in the best neighborhood primary school. I didn't really had the choice of going to school except the times I didn't feel like going to school cos I don't want to get caned for not doing my homework and mom had to get MCs for me.. sometimes even do my homework for me.. Like I said, I didn't know I was spoiled... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6NjilpoMElk/TbQtkHvAOFI/AAAAAAAAE8k/i5XadgUYYLo/s1600/wai.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6NjilpoMElk/TbQtkHvAOFI/AAAAAAAAE8k/i5XadgUYYLo/s320/wai.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599150335303104594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6NjilpoMElk/TbQtkHvAOFI/AAAAAAAAE8k/i5XadgUYYLo/s1600/wai.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In school, I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't join any ECA, I was bullied all the time, I was smaller than the other kids and started wearing nerdy glass since primary 3, the girls made fun of me and called me "froggy", the guys treated me like punching bags... all the way into secondary school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6NjilpoMElk/TbQtkHvAOFI/AAAAAAAAE8k/i5XadgUYYLo/s1600/wai.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q6A7wWVCrQg/TbQtk79zQ_I/AAAAAAAAE88/_FqJRJ7NB5Q/s320/durian.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599150349323813874" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad owns a durian farm in Malaysia, we often had to go to the dreaded place full of mosquitoes... Like I said, I didn't know how rich my dad was, so much that he owns a land, but I didn't care, I just didn't like all the dirt, mosquitoes and the hot sun. His business was definitely not my business...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a little bigger here cos I started to change in secondary school, I started to realize that girls are pretty! Then all the bgr curiosity started. I realise the girls like the guys with center parting, so I started to grow a little hair and threw a lump of gel on it only to be laughed at the first day I did it, later I also realized that the guys who had bigger muscles also got attention from the girls so I started going gym since sec 2. I got bigger, with longer hair and finally I got a little more attention from the girls but not the one I liked. I realized I like the "ah lian" type... probably cos an "ah lian" type stood up for me in class during primary school after the guys made me cry. So the first gal I asked to be a boyfriend was an "ah lian" who just broke up. She rejected me right on the spot. I cried like a baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my secondary school, I also chanced upon friends who were Christians, I didn't like them cos there were a few very cocky, noisy, talk big, and one hell of a proud assholes. They brought me to a church, I didn't know such a thing called double standard... I thought they were weird people... I told myself I never want to go to a church ever again. Those hypocrites!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I turned bad... I went to get my ear pierced, joined a little gang and carried those sharp combs that weren't allowed in school. Got into a few fights every now and then. I was an angry and confused teenager.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life started to turn around when I was introduced to a little social gathering called cell group. I went once and met this fat guy, he was one really persistent fat guy who kept asking me to come for more cell groups. I didn't want to cos they were playing icebreaker games that got really violent at times... but I still went... cos there was this really cute girl there and I wanted to see her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soon enough, I learnt more and more about this God/man called Jesus which really got me more and more interested to find out more... then suddenly one day, someone said something I wasn't sure and poof! I became a Christian! Everyone started hugging me! I was scammed into saying the sinners prayer! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I started going church, my parents of cos didn't approved and banned me from going church but I still secretly went cos I wanted to know more about this Jesus guy who made the world agree that is it year 2000, that something really happened 2000 years ago in history that completely rocked the world's believes. The more I became a real Christian, the more amazing my life became.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My grades got much better, I got the Good Progress Award when I was secondary 4. I asked my cell group friend who is a very faithful Christian that I respect alot what I should do with the $150 bucks? He told me to give it back to God, which I reluctantly did. Then the next amazing miracle happened in secondary 5, I was 2nd in my whole cohort and got $500 for getting scholarship! On top of that, I was actually elected to be class chairman that year so it wasn't an easy feat... I didn't expect myself to even make it to any polytechnic but I did!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life turned around even more in Polytechnic, I asked God for courage and adopted the name Andrew which means courage. I immediately volunteered to become the class rep on the first day and made many friends, joined many CCAs, learnt to play the guitar and met my first love. Life was really good, I was very active in church as well, joined the dance team and participated in many events and most importantly I became confident of myself. God's glory was shining through me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Throughout my 8 years as a Christian, I never regretted knowing this amazing God. I had my tough times but He brought me through them all. I became more thoughtful and understanding, more patient and caring, more gentle and self controlled, more focused on my life, I was clearer to what I wanted, how to get there and why on earth I was born in the first place... I had more friends than I ever had... very amazing friends..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qAFOwOu2Pxw/TbRBpdJxiDI/AAAAAAAAE9M/SoDeL_YHl2I/s320/166476_1689995883473_1045002231_1877178_3998767_n.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599172417184434226" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I became much more aware of myself, and became more confident by the day... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oKUt55iD5Kk/TbRBp7JeZnI/AAAAAAAAE9c/pCs5Vasxq7g/s320/011010%2528edited%2529.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 166px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599172425236244082" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And most importantly, I am smiling together with my family now. =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6SxIowGtP6A/TbRBpgC6LXI/AAAAAAAAE9U/UA5b3BImAr8/s320/SDC12632.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599172417960947058" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5607622824863278322?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5607622824863278322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5607622824863278322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/how-god-changed-my-life.html' title='How God Changed My Life.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cN8MPjVgDUs/TbQtlX74JTI/AAAAAAAAE9E/1kgF_wGLIeg/s72-c/macNme.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8774295831370637769</id><published>2011-04-24T13:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T13:18:49.183+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Start Again To Be With You</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/d2nun6e2oAc?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't like this song at first... then when I looked at the lyrics... it reminded me of another song...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yP9I3R0P-pA?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8774295831370637769?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8774295831370637769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8774295831370637769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/westlife-to-be-with-you.html' title='Start Again To Be With You'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/d2nun6e2oAc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8360958535053616960</id><published>2011-04-23T14:28:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T15:51:31.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused Geeky Nice Guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7g7-L5XxGY0/TbJ7E_FvN4I/AAAAAAAAE8U/gBUZeKc3nQg/s320/1237403391_29511758f0.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 187px; height: 290px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598672612360140674" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the geek, nobody likes them, cos they are overly smart, they ask many questions and share intellectual jokes that only their kind understands. They usually come in thick glasses and combs side parting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lTRYZxcw-I4/TbJ7E_MpcGI/AAAAAAAAE8c/HDAEpW482fQ/s1600/Computer-Cartoon-happy-guy.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aCYvA-ri68g/TbJ7El_q8II/AAAAAAAAE8M/Dr-dIlOuZIo/s1600/testPage1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aCYvA-ri68g/TbJ7El_q8II/AAAAAAAAE8M/Dr-dIlOuZIo/s320/testPage1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598672605623808130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KKON43HZoOg/TbJyTFtH9bI/AAAAAAAAE8E/N3c75PBKkF4/s1600/nerd.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And here is Average Joe. He's a very nice guy, very helpful. Average intelligence, average looks and pretty much average in all areas. Nobody bothers them and they don't bother with anybody, cos they don't really know how to talk and make friends, they are everywhere but almost seems non-existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So using these 2 great examples as guidelines,&lt;br /&gt;Wear glasses&lt;br /&gt;Side parting&lt;br /&gt;Ask questions&lt;br /&gt;Be nice&lt;br /&gt;Keep quiet&lt;br /&gt;Pretend you're not there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will never fail to stay out of trouble. Nobody will talk to you, nobody will care about you, and nobody will know you even existed. You might be used often and get bullied often but most importantly you will NEVER get the girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So tell me where did I go wrong? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If it's not these that work then I need to re-evaluate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is by nature and many million years of psychobiology that women are generally attracted to the dark, mysterious, commanding, romantic hero archetype. The alpha male romantic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the opposite should be true. They should generally not be attracted to the light, not-mysterious, yielding, non-romantic villain archetype. The omega males. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm... this is going to be quite difficult to accomplish... I have already become 70% alpha than omega... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait a minute...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is getting really lame... What am I talking about? What analogy is this? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arh.. Heck! I'll just be me and see how everything goes. =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8360958535053616960?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8360958535053616960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8360958535053616960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/confused-nerd.html' title='Confused Geeky Nice Guy'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7g7-L5XxGY0/TbJ7E_FvN4I/AAAAAAAAE8U/gBUZeKc3nQg/s72-c/1237403391_29511758f0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-464395583611375364</id><published>2011-04-23T00:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T01:11:50.355+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is Love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WetnXvShnvM/TbGrxM3iX3I/AAAAAAAAE78/SOnmsZk2md4/s1600/Where_is_Love__.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WetnXvShnvM/TbGrxM3iX3I/AAAAAAAAE78/SOnmsZk2md4/s320/Where_is_Love__.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598444673554341746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's everywhere! Literally haunting me!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I want is to focus, so I ran away from the place where I get distracted the most. But now, I end up in another fix... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong, I love LOVE! I love to love, a hopeless romantic at that... I can just give up all my plans if I had to, just so I can be with whoever the one is. Climb over mountains and swim across the ocean to fight dragons just so I can buy a Koi Milk Tea for that special one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now I'm really trying to avoid it, I have set down my goals, I'm working on them now, making myself as busy as hell to take my mind off this subject... but it seems there's just no hiding from it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm stuck in my hiding place, a dead end of a valley with the subject matter sitting right beside me 12 hrs a day, 5 days a week. Where am I to hide now? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, please help me out here... I do not know how this is Your will and how You would allow such an event to take place. What am I to do in such a situation? Please give me the wisdom to make the right choices, the choices that would glorify you. The courage to say and do the right things at the right time. Lead me not to temptation, keep me away from any lustful thoughts, selfish desires, boastful talks and proud gestures. Mould me more like you, knock some sense into me please. I am currently in an emotional handicapped state, I would really need that Armor of God You told me about and some of that miracle You used to pour on me from time to time... In Jesus name I pray, amen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-464395583611375364?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/464395583611375364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/464395583611375364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/where-is-love.html' title='Where is Love?'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WetnXvShnvM/TbGrxM3iX3I/AAAAAAAAE78/SOnmsZk2md4/s72-c/Where_is_Love__.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1425917074388973428</id><published>2011-04-22T13:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T13:59:19.652+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tony Robbins - Breakthrough Relationship</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EXQ2T3DNWuw?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1425917074388973428?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1425917074388973428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1425917074388973428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/tony-robbins-breakthrough-relationship.html' title='Tony Robbins - Breakthrough Relationship'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/EXQ2T3DNWuw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4911335139346059354</id><published>2011-04-22T13:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T14:04:19.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'>E + R = O</title><content type='html'>The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Chuck Swindoll&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4911335139346059354?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4911335139346059354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4911335139346059354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/e-r-o.html' title='E + R = O'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4063634911672481290</id><published>2011-04-18T22:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T22:52:00.502+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A White Lie is Still A Lie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0TJgUXXwTs/TaxMKfOseZI/AAAAAAAAE70/VCD-qYAph5Q/s1600/white_lies.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0TJgUXXwTs/TaxMKfOseZI/AAAAAAAAE70/VCD-qYAph5Q/s320/white_lies.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596932179980220818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, I told a lie today which I felt bad about... It may be a white lie but a lie is still a lie. Boss was asking me how was everything, if everything is good? I say I'm learning alot and slowly getting the hang of it. Then he said if i'll be staying long rite? He said he doesn't want to go through the hassle of hiring and training another. I said yes. That was the lie!! I know very well I'll be going for my interview with SIA when I reach the required age which is about 9 months from now. And if I fail, I'll be going Australia to work. The only chance I will stay is if I fail SIA interview and they promote me before I finish applying for my VISA next year and pay a wage of at least 3k which I highly doubt so. God, please give me a little heads up on this. If it is in Your will, then let Your will be done. Thank You again for forgiving my sins. You are the ever so amazing God. I pray that You continue to guide me and give me wisdom on what to say when I meet future situations like these. In Jesus Christ name I pray. Amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4063634911672481290?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4063634911672481290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4063634911672481290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/white-lie-is-still-lie.html' title='A White Lie is Still A Lie'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0TJgUXXwTs/TaxMKfOseZI/AAAAAAAAE70/VCD-qYAph5Q/s72-c/white_lies.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1328637477246262755</id><published>2011-04-17T20:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T23:20:53.344+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottled Up Anger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kcHvhc2Wj7o/Tarj7hhDf4I/AAAAAAAAE7s/cqIvcVcrGZk/s1600/bottleup.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 166px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kcHvhc2Wj7o/Tarj7hhDf4I/AAAAAAAAE7s/cqIvcVcrGZk/s320/bottleup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596536098710060930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kcHvhc2Wj7o/Tarj7hhDf4I/AAAAAAAAE7s/cqIvcVcrGZk/s1600/bottleup.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the type who bottle up my anger. When someone pisses me off, I usually let it pass but I almost never forget it. At least I'll try to, which sometimes I actually will. I'm rather quick to forgive though cos I've been forgiven for my sins. Like I said before, forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or a never feeling the pain anymore, we may never forget and the pain may last forever, but forgiving is choosing and promising to never bring the subject up again to anybody especially to that person and using it against that person. God didn't forget my sins and it definitely hurts Him to see us sin but He chose to never bring it up again against us. That's  true forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe that people don't really mean to hurt others intentionally, at least they weren't born that way, it's either of their personality that nurtured from their past experience, it could be how they were taught or through various reasons and experience that made them the way they are, so I couldn't really blame them if they said or did something that may have hurt me. It may be a self defense mechanism that have brought them this far. It's all Satan's fault, his evil suggestions for the society in a whole. All the evil, selfish, jealous, uncaring, proud, boastful and impatient seeds that he has planted in our hearts. Everyone is born innocent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For me, my self defenses have evolved overtime through various books I've read and applied. Like how admitting my weaknesses and bad habits before the other party says them, makes them think twice before saying anything. When someone says something insulting or mean to you, reply, "thank you for your compliment, same to you too!" When in doubt, always ask, never judge, some things may not be what it seems. Always let others win, even if you are right cos you don't have to be right all the time, a lesson in humility. Seek to make others happy instead of yourself, it makes life so much more worth living for. Worrying solve nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to the topic of my bottled up anger. I'll always be nice to everyone if possible but somehow, no matter how nice I appear to a person who continually pisses me off, I always have thoughts of getting back at that person. I'll have thoughts of me saying really bad stuff that will make the person hope he/she was never born. I'll keep thinking of various bad stuff to say but eventually rationalize that our purpose on earth never was to destroy each other but to live together peacefully. If I had the choice and was still in the right of mind, I'd rather be the one who gets hurt than hurting others. Fighting was, is and will always be the worst solution. So in the end, the emotions is so called, bottled up. I know it's bad for health.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing with bottle up anger is well, they eventually blow up! Gets pretty nasty... I'll skip the details but the good thing is that, my capacity increases after each one which I've realize after more than a few people start commenting that I am a calm and patient guy. =) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I usually communicate through my problems. I'll try to get a win-win solution if possible. Else I'll just move on and decide that that person is just not worth my time and quit talking to him/her. Some people just need to learn it the hard way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dealing with people is just so difficult, everyone is so different. Knowing this, has made me very taciturn and distant that I'd rather live in solitude, away from people, away from the crowd... but somewhere deep inside tells me that there are many people out there that may need my help. Hmmm... need to pray about that... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in the end, I'll just stick to my bottled up angers... I believe in world peace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, sorry for bottling up my emotions, sorry for every time I blow up and sorry for every evil thoughts that come across my mind. Thank You for forgiving me and thank You for giving me the fruit of patience and gentleness. I pray you sow in me the seed of love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control. In Jesus name I pray, amen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1328637477246262755?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1328637477246262755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1328637477246262755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/bottled-up-anger.html' title='Bottled Up Anger'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kcHvhc2Wj7o/Tarj7hhDf4I/AAAAAAAAE7s/cqIvcVcrGZk/s72-c/bottleup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-3825897465406682962</id><published>2011-04-13T22:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T23:36:35.255+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Office Politics</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NsLQj6YBJqU/TaW6z9PMEVI/AAAAAAAAE7U/ielw4zrjVas/s320/office_politics_02.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 280px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595083513852072274" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;Office Politics&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shouldn't be happening when most of the people just started not long ago right? But somehow I think this may not be true...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xonDKmYwPTQ/TaW8IZSaMzI/AAAAAAAAE7k/PG9qwaP0wvk/s320/photo_961.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 203px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595084964490785586" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think it starts with a little office gossips... starting to feel that it's really unavoidable, it may spark off from a little jealousy, upset, stress, or simply a personality mismatch between people in general.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then just today I learnt that there's some 'under table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; going on... After people in office starts to form little groups, and afraid of whoevers on top, or maybe just some minor things that the people from top just doesn't understands yet still insists on... Then the only solution left is well, to keep them out of the loop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bk8mqm1DicY/TaW60HI5csI/AAAAAAAAE7c/pCzn5zNJaVI/s320/officeut.jpeg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595083516510040770" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sooner or later, things can get pretty serious... little ambiguous fights will start to happen, the internal conflict thats just invisible to the naked eye. The tug of war between the walls is happening all the time...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uVUEXsDiMHk/TaW6ziVixXI/AAAAAAAAE7M/J99m9yaINX0/s1600/office-politic-1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uVUEXsDiMHk/TaW6ziVixXI/AAAAAAAAE7M/J99m9yaINX0/s320/office-politic-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595083506630968690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uVUEXsDiMHk/TaW6ziVixXI/AAAAAAAAE7M/J99m9yaINX0/s1600/office-politic-1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And of cos, the backstabbing happens all the time... since young... could be due to various reason... also highly unavoidable...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PTPjnNVMBI8/TaW6zeVt_aI/AAAAAAAAE7E/U_go196OfvA/s1600/office-politics.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PTPjnNVMBI8/TaW6zeVt_aI/AAAAAAAAE7E/U_go196OfvA/s320/office-politics.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595083505557962146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, today I got a little upset a few times. I was caught and told to wear my cap properly, felt a little freedom striped off, then I saw some smoke grenade thrown to make me think I otherwise, felt a little stab in the back, then after a confrontation with boss, I won but the opposition was a little upset and revealed the 'rumored' double standard going on, a little kindness but was done 'under table'. Finally, my so called 'leader' ran his OCD fingers all over my desktop and 'fix' everything he felt wrong like saying my icons are too big, that opening files should be done with double-click and not expanding them to see, files should be searched using search and not manually, hidden layers should be viewed and edited only by overprint preview then locking instead of hiding the layers. Thank God for making me highly adaptable, thank God that I still can have my long hair and wear jeans, thank God I can still use google search, thank God my boss say I can take leave to go school, thank God this is a very high paying job, thank God I've made some pretty nice friends, thank God I can sleep in my very own bed. Thank you God. Please grant me the will to carry on, the strength take the hits, the discipline to manage my time, courage and the love of God to show how wonderful You are. In Jesus Christ Most Precious Name I pray. Amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-3825897465406682962?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3825897465406682962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/3825897465406682962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/office-politics-shouldnt-be-happening.html' title='Office Politics'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NsLQj6YBJqU/TaW6z9PMEVI/AAAAAAAAE7U/ielw4zrjVas/s72-c/office_politics_02.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-8328758791191962456</id><published>2011-04-09T16:50:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T18:01:07.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts About Bad Habits</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nw5c_hZkG2w/TaAsTI77LXI/AAAAAAAAE6k/p38_2qT7_i8/s1600/breaking-bad-habits.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nw5c_hZkG2w/TaAsTI77LXI/AAAAAAAAE6k/p38_2qT7_i8/s320/breaking-bad-habits.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593519444522118514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nw5c_hZkG2w/TaAsTI77LXI/AAAAAAAAE6k/p38_2qT7_i8/s1600/breaking-bad-habits.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoking is really bad. Not only does is cause harm to you, it significantly causes harm to the people around you as well. Same for drinking too much alcohol. Basically not taking care of yourself affects more than just yourself if your thinking that it doesn't. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secondhand smokes kills the people around you faster than you. If it doesn't kill you, you're gonna grow old alone cos you killed everyone else around you. If you have children or thinking of have one, think of how much harm you're already giving them before they are even born. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Same applies for drinking, having unhealthy diets, not having proper sleep or deliberately hurting yourself. Which will lead to reluctant mood swings, low immune system, and the inability to protect the ones you love. Which will leads to loneliness, hatred, sadness, regret, and finally death from depression. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So give yourself and the people around you, especially the ones you love another chance to share a wonderful present and bright future with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Endings do happen when you pursue them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remember, waiting is not a solution. Quit your bad habits now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xVdt02MmfYQ/TaAsTrF3fgI/AAAAAAAAE6s/tDDMmzw5FXM/s320/Happy-Ending-the-little-mermaid-18600135-1280-720.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593519453690625538" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Btw, I have nothing against smokers or anyone, just hoping a little fact might help you get a happier and more fulfilled life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-8328758791191962456?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8328758791191962456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/8328758791191962456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/thoughts-about-bad-habits.html' title='Thoughts About Bad Habits'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nw5c_hZkG2w/TaAsTI77LXI/AAAAAAAAE6k/p38_2qT7_i8/s72-c/breaking-bad-habits.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2549007051594572605</id><published>2011-04-09T15:24:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T19:06:08.349+08:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Books I Want To Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yvuh8g767b8/TaA9UsWBbZI/AAAAAAAAE60/M_FgNVv7ruo/s320/book11.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593538162904362386" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Venus on Fire, Mars on Ice by John Gray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yvuh8g767b8/TaA9UsWBbZI/AAAAAAAAE60/M_FgNVv7ruo/s1600/book11.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EN0I9aLtX6U/TaA9fZYE1MI/AAAAAAAAE68/XQ-rv1gfg9U/s320/book10.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593538346791261378" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Five Love Languages By Gary Chapman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g8FmX7iRFSE/TaAMX71r-wI/AAAAAAAAE6c/MSpQFtkVMWY/s1600/book10.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99uwPshfFvc/TaAMXn6QYLI/AAAAAAAAE6U/YMQjxq69NzA/s1600/book9.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99uwPshfFvc/TaAMXn6QYLI/AAAAAAAAE6U/YMQjxq69NzA/s320/book9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484337184006322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think And Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99uwPshfFvc/TaAMXn6QYLI/AAAAAAAAE6U/YMQjxq69NzA/s1600/book9.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcA_QfjlKK8/TaAMXV3KpaI/AAAAAAAAE6M/QFVLtVeQvTQ/s1600/book8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcA_QfjlKK8/TaAMXV3KpaI/AAAAAAAAE6M/QFVLtVeQvTQ/s320/book8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484332339209634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Power Of Now by Eckhart Tolle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcA_QfjlKK8/TaAMXV3KpaI/AAAAAAAAE6M/QFVLtVeQvTQ/s1600/book8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dD5HAGNE3aI/TaAMXF2XeTI/AAAAAAAAE6E/nPm1RlZwneA/s1600/book7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dD5HAGNE3aI/TaAMXF2XeTI/AAAAAAAAE6E/nPm1RlZwneA/s320/book7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484328040888626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Getting Things Done by David Allen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dD5HAGNE3aI/TaAMXF2XeTI/AAAAAAAAE6E/nPm1RlZwneA/s1600/book7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BqodskKH7jc/TaAMXK7K6BI/AAAAAAAAE58/LPIOfGb_z10/s1600/book6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BqodskKH7jc/TaAMXK7K6BI/AAAAAAAAE58/LPIOfGb_z10/s320/book6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484329403213842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Power Of Your Subconscious Mind by Joseph Murphy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BqodskKH7jc/TaAMXK7K6BI/AAAAAAAAE58/LPIOfGb_z10/s1600/book6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wimIMDzrUao/TaAMNyUGWAI/AAAAAAAAE50/VXWKbUUdpq8/s1600/book5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wimIMDzrUao/TaAMNyUGWAI/AAAAAAAAE50/VXWKbUUdpq8/s320/book5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484168178063362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drive, The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us by Daniel H. Pink&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wimIMDzrUao/TaAMNyUGWAI/AAAAAAAAE50/VXWKbUUdpq8/s1600/book5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--6BbIJVae6s/TaAMNlfhUtI/AAAAAAAAE5s/Tq7OoyWxy-I/s1600/book4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--6BbIJVae6s/TaAMNlfhUtI/AAAAAAAAE5s/Tq7OoyWxy-I/s320/book4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484164736307922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace from Broken Pieces by Iyanla Vanzant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--6BbIJVae6s/TaAMNlfhUtI/AAAAAAAAE5s/Tq7OoyWxy-I/s1600/book4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iArxNoWOHY4/TaAMNmlxgKI/AAAAAAAAE5k/zqhakjMor0U/s1600/book3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iArxNoWOHY4/TaAMNmlxgKI/AAAAAAAAE5k/zqhakjMor0U/s320/book3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484165030969506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iArxNoWOHY4/TaAMNmlxgKI/AAAAAAAAE5k/zqhakjMor0U/s1600/book3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JFh2KicW0vo/TaAMNOZZ8XI/AAAAAAAAE5c/tI_EFO-eIo4/s1600/book2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JFh2KicW0vo/TaAMNOZZ8XI/AAAAAAAAE5c/tI_EFO-eIo4/s320/book2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593484158536642930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stop Dating The Church by Joshua Harris&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2549007051594572605?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2549007051594572605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2549007051594572605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/10-books-i-want-to-read.html' title='10 Books I Want To Read'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yvuh8g767b8/TaA9UsWBbZI/AAAAAAAAE60/M_FgNVv7ruo/s72-c/book11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-989252648020191598</id><published>2011-04-03T10:38:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T11:31:41.748+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese Homework Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O_pdxENqqaQ/TZfnUqOoRWI/AAAAAAAAE5M/aRToWuBSJKk/s1600/copybooks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O_pdxENqqaQ/TZfnUqOoRWI/AAAAAAAAE5M/aRToWuBSJKk/s320/copybooks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591191804522808674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this dream of me needing to do one of these copybook exercises called "习字" (xi zi) in chinese. Strangely, many of us didn't bring the book so we were asked to go back and finish it before come back after lunchtime for the last 2 lessons. I shared a cab with a few people and I manage to reach home quite early but I didn't know how to do my homework even though I just needed to copy the word only, I just didn't know how so I procastinated awhile and watched the time as it passes quickly. YuHan was also doing the homework with me at my place and she did hers really fast and she encouraged me but I kept saying nevermind until there was only 5 minutes left and I have only written a few words, I panicked and woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realized it was probably around 5am so I went back to sleep. Phew! I hate chinese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-989252648020191598?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/989252648020191598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/989252648020191598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/chinese-homework-dream.html' title='Chinese Homework Nightmare'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O_pdxENqqaQ/TZfnUqOoRWI/AAAAAAAAE5M/aRToWuBSJKk/s72-c/copybooks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-4469303426590015812</id><published>2011-04-02T11:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T00:14:46.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worries bout Money</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ao2bBkWrkWw/TZabbTRrnII/AAAAAAAAE5E/o48l7TOVfVo/s1600/borrowmoney.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ao2bBkWrkWw/TZabbTRrnII/AAAAAAAAE5E/o48l7TOVfVo/s320/borrowmoney.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590826880760257666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad has borrowed another 300 bucks more from me summing to more than S$1k from me over a period of 2 months... getting a little worried. I think that working is of utmost priority now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-4469303426590015812?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4469303426590015812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/4469303426590015812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/04/dad-has-borrowed-another-300-bucks-more.html' title='Worries bout Money'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ao2bBkWrkWw/TZabbTRrnII/AAAAAAAAE5E/o48l7TOVfVo/s72-c/borrowmoney.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-2391500420587400368</id><published>2011-03-30T06:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T06:23:38.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovely Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySFlMBp62pQ/TZJZo0O4zdI/AAAAAAAAE48/mKMCWk9h6is/s1600/hands_hold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySFlMBp62pQ/TZJZo0O4zdI/AAAAAAAAE48/mKMCWk9h6is/s320/hands_hold.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589628645270932946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She finally appeared in my dreams along with her sisters. We were at a theme park and I we ended up alone from the people we know and played some other ride, I said something or maybe I didn't which I wasn't very sure but I caught her attention, there wasn't any response at first so I walked away, suddenly trip and fell face down , laid down on the floor awhile feeling sad and at the same time hoping she would come after me which she did, I stood up and walked away from the crowd while knowing she's behind me, walked down a flight of stairs and suddenly we stopped and had another conversation or something then started holding hands. My whole world lit up, I was elated. We went back to rejoin the rest while still holding hands to let everyone knows she's mine. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-2391500420587400368?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2391500420587400368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/2391500420587400368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/03/lovely-dream.html' title='Lovely Dream'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySFlMBp62pQ/TZJZo0O4zdI/AAAAAAAAE48/mKMCWk9h6is/s72-c/hands_hold.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-5724529146780138446</id><published>2011-03-28T21:20:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T22:31:44.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day For First Official Full Time Job.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hAWROfBQVSo/TZCOUGyshYI/AAAAAAAAE40/LuQ0SpstUs8/s1600/9845-hospital-uniform-doctor-dress-medical-scrub-lab-coat-1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 164px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hAWROfBQVSo/TZCOUGyshYI/AAAAAAAAE40/LuQ0SpstUs8/s320/9845-hospital-uniform-doctor-dress-medical-scrub-lab-coat-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589123613638559106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was the first thing I saw when I walk to the cafeteria to wait for my security briefing. White Lab coats and a white shower cap!! My first thought was, "Do I have to wear that?!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The company I'm currently in is super high in security so I'm afraid I can't say much about it here. Anyway, after the day I feel that I'm getting to know a little more about the adult life for most adults. So this is what happens for me and I'm guessing it'll be the same for many days. Wake up really early, take 1.5hrs to go to work (for me is still training), take 1.5hrs to go back, go supermarket buy some stuffs (saw many working adults), go bank (still see many working adults), reach home, eat dinner/supper, and I'm pretty much left with an hour or so before I have to go to bed and the cycle continues... seems like a monotonous routine life to me or so it seems...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I may like this job cos after so long I finally get to work alongside with girls again!! (3 yrs poly engineering, 2 yrs army, 1 yr game design, many yrs in homogeneous cell, the more I hung out with guys the more I find guys are really assholes... and the worst part is, they know but they don't care!) Anyway, yay! Girls! And they're all older than me! So no worries! (I prefer younger girls) and the next good thing is that they let me wear jeans to work if I want and there's nobody whose job is to judge me by my hair. I'm pretty much a designer though I feel like I'll be doing much of other security admin stuffs instead but it's okay cos the pay is good and the skills required are worth my time as I get to learn new stuff unlike the other brainless jobs I've done like waitering, packing, and book store assistant. The last good thing is that there's actually a chance to be transfered to other departments in the company and even a chance to other countries. The downside is that the place is so super secure, I can't even bring my cellphone into my office. I must wear the ugly tag known as a badge around my neck at all times else I'm gonna get it real bad. The white lab coat and cap is must also but it's okay cos I kinda look like a doctor/scientist. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another down thing is that Beijing trip needs to be postponed cos I'm under 3 months probation and I can't take any leave yet. Oh well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had a problem going to school just now... I got lost cos I took the right bus in the wrong direction. In the end, I was really too late my teacher tell me no need to come. This is kind of unexpected but thank God, my teacher is understanding enough so I'll be self-learning again for this year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I just need to fix the IPT sessions and these few project deadlines in April. Super packed. Kind of regret that this IS REALLY HARDER THAN I THOUGHT. God, please give me the strength to overcome these minor obstacles in my life. Thank you God for reminding me that this is just the dark before the morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="375" height="305" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0JYGhQWgqq4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-5724529146780138446?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5724529146780138446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/5724529146780138446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/03/first-day-for-first-official-full-time.html' title='First Day For First Official Full Time Job.'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hAWROfBQVSo/TZCOUGyshYI/AAAAAAAAE40/LuQ0SpstUs8/s72-c/9845-hospital-uniform-doctor-dress-medical-scrub-lab-coat-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-1432891088746530133</id><published>2011-03-22T22:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T23:34:21.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Official Job!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ClOShA2NHo/TYi5JCOSwuI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/wv1wdFL_xD8/s1600/homer_woohoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ClOShA2NHo/TYi5JCOSwuI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/wv1wdFL_xD8/s320/homer_woohoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586918902619882210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a miracle! I got accepted into my second interviewed job! Starting work on Monday. Honesty paid off! More importantly I believe it's God's work. At the beginning of the month, I had a strong feeling that God will bless me with a 2k job and told me to put $200 as tithing even though that's pretty much half of my allowance and I had some doubts cos the current market rate is $1.75k for Fresh Diploma Grads. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So by faith, I put it in and massively applied for around 40 job positions, got 3 interviews, and landed my first job in an MNC for a basic salary of $2k exactly! Praise The LORD! Your Love for me is Simply A M A Z I N G ! =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear God, thanks for letting me know you're still on my side, guiding me and keeping me on the right track. Thanks for reminding me that You still Love me no matter what my plans are at the moment. I pray that you continue to reveal Your perfect Will to me and every little thing that is pleasing to You, teach me to put every minute of my life into worshiping you God. You are El Shaddai, the God Almighty! Thank you once again. In Jesus most precious name I pray, amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-1432891088746530133?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1432891088746530133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/1432891088746530133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/03/first-official-job.html' title='First Official Job!!'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ClOShA2NHo/TYi5JCOSwuI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/wv1wdFL_xD8/s72-c/homer_woohoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689533.post-7527709536384664008</id><published>2011-03-18T14:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T14:27:19.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Starfish Story</title><content type='html'>For those who have never heard of the Starfish Story here it is again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pmaOV5NRKdE/TYL6fAxdbcI/AAAAAAAAE4Q/TEcsutTD6bM/s320/starfish-beach-anna-garbis.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585301898583174594" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.  Approaching the boy, he asked, ‘What are you doing?’&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The youth replied, ‘Throwing starfish back into the ocean.  The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.’  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘ Son,’ the man said, ‘don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? What difference does it make!’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said…‘I made a difference for that one.’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689533-7527709536384664008?l=gentlesquall.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7527709536384664008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689533/posts/default/7527709536384664008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gentlesquall.blogspot.com/2011/03/starfish-story.html' title='Starfish Story'/><author><name>Wai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/GentleSquall/My%20Story/minbr0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pmaOV5NRKdE/TYL6fAxdbcI/AAAAAAAAE4Q/TEcsutTD6bM/s72-c/starfish-beach-anna-garbis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
