<?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-985601098703747682</id><updated>2011-10-03T00:30:33.953+08:00</updated><category term='I&apos;m already at my best'/><category term='Wonder if you already knew'/><category term='I found myself the best girl i never want to give up on'/><category term='Down'/><category term='Tell them what i hoped would be impossible'/><category term='Insignificant'/><category term='Aware'/><category term='Your heart&apos;s so close to mine'/><category term='I wanna take you away'/><category term='Will there be a day ?'/><category term='My sunshine'/><title type='text'>BEVIS CHANEY</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-6775794449749956677</id><published>2011-08-19T20:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T22:06:47.411+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear You,</title><content type='html'>According to you, we've split up... I was in doubt and i wanted to pop out the question, "Are we still a couple?". And on the other hand, i was in a dilemma. Because a relationship which involves two parties, yet i don't even know our status. What else can i say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, i was really feeling terrible and all i asked from you was to just let me hear your voice. Even for 1-2minutes, I'd have felt a whole lot better. You didn't answer my call, neither did you reply me. At night, i deliberately tweeted "Your voice would probably make me feel a whole lot better. Sigh.". Do you actually know the purpose of this tweet of mine? I was actually really hoping, wishing and waiting for your call. But you didn't call, neither did you show any concern. I felt, really disappointed and upset. But of course, since we've split, there's no reason why you should give in to my demands. As usual, silly me still hopes, wish and waited. For the past few weeks, i haven't been sleeping well. I either can't get to sleep or woke up in the middle of the night a couple of time because i was feeling troubled. And each time i woke up, the first thing i do is to check my phone for your miss call/texts. Not just at night, even during the days. I knew that there wasn't any calls or texts from you yet i checked my phone every 5 minutes hoping to see your name appear on my screen. I knew it yet i still expect the impossible. Just what is wrong with me? Tell me, what is wrong loving someone? What is wrong seeking attention from the person you love? What is wrong hoping that she will notice you? What is wrong... I miss you, i just miss you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saltpepper's a pet, a pet that mean alot to me. Do y'know why i kept asking you if you were jealous? Because i want you to be, i want you to be jealous. At least it makes me feel you still care, a lil. But instead you said no and even asked me not to misunderstood that you're angry, its just that you were tired and you wanted to sleep. I know what is it that you wanted to tell me that i will feel jealous about. On a particular day, Bella and one of your secondary school malay guy friend went to your house. I dont know what did the both of you do or whatsoever. I saw Bella's facebook. You needed someone and he was there. A few months ago or so, i saw a photo of you from her facebook and he commented, "my cutey". Ive no comments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like what Ive always said a billion times, i don't want to be seen needy or desperate even though i am, for your attention, love and everything else. I don't want to be a nuisance. I know i've said this over and over again and i know i didn't keep my words but still i'm going to say it. It's okay if you don't text me/call me. It's okay if you don't care about me anymore, it's okay if you don't love me anymore. It's okay even if i'm hurting, its okay. It's okay not to be okay. I'll still Love You, Love You Once, Love You still, always have, always will. You live here &gt; ♥ &lt; , right here in my heart. I'll keep all my feelings ive for you, all the love, care and concern inside my heart. Maybe someday, you will realise how much I Love You. Maybe someday, you will feel it, feel my heart's beating for you. And i'll stay right here, at the same spot for you to turn back and return to my side. I'm the man who can't be move, but also the fool who's waiting for someone who's never coming back. I dont know how, i dont know when you will come back. And when i say come back, i mean the real you, the one that love me wholeheartly, shower me with her care and concern, gave me all the attention in the world. How did something so beautiful turn into something so painful? I just lost my companion, my comfort, my best friend. I wish I could go back to the times when we were both contented, especially me. When I was just simply happy to be loved by you and have you by my side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-6775794449749956677?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/6775794449749956677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/6775794449749956677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/dear-you.html' title='Dear You,'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4046070705769898507</id><published>2011-08-17T14:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T14:53:21.569+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Life, Live It</title><content type='html'>I don't like how my thoughts have a way of screwing my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different note, I feel that I have so much more to learn in life and i'm excited and pumped up about it. But(yes, there's always a but) in order to learn, we need to take risks/chances. We need take that big leap in faith, believing that we're making the right decision. I struggle with that. I have the tendency to look back, only to find myself with regrets. In everything we do, there are pros and cons. Sometimes one outweighs the other and sometimes both balance out. At the end of the day, it boils down to what exactly I want. And then we ask ourselves, what in the world do we want but only to realise that we ourselves have no clue. Or perhaps wanting something would require us to sacrifice a bit of the other. Would that sacrifice be one worth making or just simply pointless. I really do not know. And that's what sucks, not knowing. But that's how life rolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to be going in circles. My point really lies in whether we are willing to take up that challenge, to grab that chance and make the best of it. Whether or not the other choice would hve been a better one only depends on what we do with the choice we've already made. There will always be something for us to gain whether good or bad decision might have been. Don't waste it. One life, live it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4046070705769898507?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4046070705769898507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4046070705769898507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/one-life-live-it.html' title='One Life, Live It'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8201719164709790553</id><published>2011-08-17T14:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T20:46:44.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangers, again</title><content type='html'>It's scary just thinking about how people whom meant so much to you, may just become strangers again someday. How you won't be able to cuddle nor hug and say "I love you" to that person anymore. Nor have that person to always be there for you anymore. How you both would go back to the start of being Strangers, Again, starting your new paths, with none of the other in it anymore. It's sad just thinking about it, isn't it? Because maybe deep within me, I'm afraid. Afraid of losing the most important people in my life. I'm in love now, and I know that whoever's important in my life now, I don't want to lose any of them. Also, I need to stop reading too much between the lines. It's making me paranoid and insecure. It makes me doubt myself, and perpetually asking myself, what went wrong or what did i do wrong? I just want everything in my life to be how it is, at peace, like that picture perfect scene of serenity in the meadows. I don't want to be known to be some emo elmo that curls in his little corner, wallowing in his pool of self-pity and negativity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8201719164709790553?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8201719164709790553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8201719164709790553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/strangers-again.html' title='Strangers, again'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8495875999910128088</id><published>2011-08-17T14:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T14:44:33.064+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Impulse</title><content type='html'>I feel like dropping my books, leaving my phone behind and travel everywhere, all alone. Everyone's too caught up in this world.... This world of technology. And I..... I... Need to find myself back. The soul inside me has been gone... Gone for way too far, too long. He needs to come back. Everything, every single thing that happened... For the past 240 days. They have forced me to grow up a lot, a lot. Flashbacks still make me tear, even till this very moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this burden on me has to go...&lt;br /&gt;It's too heavy, I haven't been too happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8495875999910128088?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8495875999910128088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8495875999910128088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/impulse.html' title='Impulse'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7594893166271429523</id><published>2011-08-17T14:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T14:40:15.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stripped Down</title><content type='html'>The feeling of inferiority, of inadequacy, of solitude and desolation, how harmful they are to our hearts. I don't know what transpired my feelings of inferiority, or perhaps I do but I'd rather not confront the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My posts have been so emotional and I loathe myself for being in this state. As much as I'm reluctant to succumb to moments of solitude because my mind becomes dysfunctional and goes crazy. On one hand it overwhelms me with so much emptiness, and on the other, my heart is met with tranquility and stillness I always yearned for. How extreme and unfathomable they are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this quietude, I ask myself - What do I want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am on my own, I can pave a clearer path for myself. &lt;br /&gt;In all seriousness, I want to do so fucking well in my studies. But is that what I truly want or simply what I need. &lt;br /&gt;I want to grow. Not grow up, but to grow spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I want to be self-assured. And honestly, I feel that society would stagnate the growth I seek for, although I can't deny that it would strengthen me mentally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to be inspired and to inspire. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7594893166271429523?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7594893166271429523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7594893166271429523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/stripped-down.html' title='Stripped Down'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-682630852297761152</id><published>2011-08-16T23:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T23:25:14.762+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bliWaLlXMVg/TkqLvtPFi7I/AAAAAAAAAaI/H8rqkxB4rgI/s1600/tumblr_lpx5uy6EsS1qbpwzeo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 270px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641475134947953586" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bliWaLlXMVg/TkqLvtPFi7I/AAAAAAAAAaI/H8rqkxB4rgI/s400/tumblr_lpx5uy6EsS1qbpwzeo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much to say but nothing comes out of your mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how that feels like? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, it hurts when someone has misunderstood their importance in your heart. But it hurts even more when there's nothing you can do or say to prove their worth in your heart cos your words have become so cheap ever since your actions, thoughts and words do not tally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-682630852297761152?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/682630852297761152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/682630852297761152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/i.html' title='I...'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bliWaLlXMVg/TkqLvtPFi7I/AAAAAAAAAaI/H8rqkxB4rgI/s72-c/tumblr_lpx5uy6EsS1qbpwzeo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-5423985209145083474</id><published>2011-08-16T23:05:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T23:22:56.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wOQ-29zIIb4/TkqKfbGBVgI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/AZsskbRMfjo/s1600/tumblr_lcjek0cGJ41qa9u6ko1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641473755688556034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wOQ-29zIIb4/TkqKfbGBVgI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/AZsskbRMfjo/s400/tumblr_lcjek0cGJ41qa9u6ko1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4qA8Px8GMBk/TkqKfHh_ksI/AAAAAAAAAZw/wDWgGdXjZds/s1600/tumblr_lcht94Uc4o1qzkw9bo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 357px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641473750437171906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4qA8Px8GMBk/TkqKfHh_ksI/AAAAAAAAAZw/wDWgGdXjZds/s400/tumblr_lcht94Uc4o1qzkw9bo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NtBqecuX3W0/TkqKfMkxLnI/AAAAAAAAAZo/WkNjrgjzKXw/s1600/tumblr_lbvzpuPzWF1qbpwzeo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641473751790988914" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NtBqecuX3W0/TkqKfMkxLnI/AAAAAAAAAZo/WkNjrgjzKXw/s400/tumblr_lbvzpuPzWF1qbpwzeo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yyMabmVU2Tw/TkqKe-xAx2I/AAAAAAAAAZg/3I3eBwRtHA0/s1600/tumblr_lbtbzyrsRv1qdwetoo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641473748084246370" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yyMabmVU2Tw/TkqKe-xAx2I/AAAAAAAAAZg/3I3eBwRtHA0/s400/tumblr_lbtbzyrsRv1qdwetoo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IvbYcTIZPZo/TkqKFbCmeSI/AAAAAAAAAZY/Uv1miGtMCvs/s1600/tumblr_lbsv52EfBp1qezwmho1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641473308997613858" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IvbYcTIZPZo/TkqKFbCmeSI/AAAAAAAAAZY/Uv1miGtMCvs/s400/tumblr_lbsv52EfBp1qezwmho1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b9DXPrgYc8k/TkqKFRSgTPI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/vaDu5ywYz2Y/s1600/tumblr_lbrlv6dA0g1qcl8q5o1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641473306379963634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b9DXPrgYc8k/TkqKFRSgTPI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/vaDu5ywYz2Y/s400/tumblr_lbrlv6dA0g1qcl8q5o1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KAc13mthnm0/TkqKFDoKlBI/AAAAAAAAAZI/ApevPozYH7U/s1600/tumblr_lbqu7mhyEW1qeqcdho1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; 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MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641471126830478914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wh1ljO2NWLg/TkqIGZ1adkI/AAAAAAAAAWY/1ZvgxIUQBGw/s400/tumblr_l2zlwp9TS61qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-TmrIfZLd0/TkqHfN0LxuI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/Fu8dtPFAVMI/s1600/tumblr_l2ddtuAqdH1qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641470453589198562" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-TmrIfZLd0/TkqHfN0LxuI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/Fu8dtPFAVMI/s400/tumblr_l2ddtuAqdH1qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3bfbqE7Q2xc/TkqHezmhe3I/AAAAAAAAAWI/BZvN2toL7SA/s1600/tumblr_l1lekbwjDf1qzr04eo1_400%255B1%255D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641470446552578930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3bfbqE7Q2xc/TkqHezmhe3I/AAAAAAAAAWI/BZvN2toL7SA/s400/tumblr_l1lekbwjDf1qzr04eo1_400%255B1%255D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q39WioptFZc/TkqHexn9zHI/AAAAAAAAAWA/OQzfEMcj6rc/s1600/tumblr_kzg4f3KT4o1qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641470446021758066" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q39WioptFZc/TkqHexn9zHI/AAAAAAAAAWA/OQzfEMcj6rc/s400/tumblr_kzg4f3KT4o1qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qUNbD6PR4no/TkqHeurzKTI/AAAAAAAAAV4/mHz2ryIet_I/s1600/tumblr_kzf2l7W2SA1qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 269px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641470445232531762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qUNbD6PR4no/TkqHeurzKTI/AAAAAAAAAV4/mHz2ryIet_I/s400/tumblr_kzf2l7W2SA1qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X2n0HKE4hEw/TkqHecyU2mI/AAAAAAAAAVw/rMeyi5qkrMY/s1600/tumblr_kyi2khopd61qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641470440428067426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X2n0HKE4hEw/TkqHecyU2mI/AAAAAAAAAVw/rMeyi5qkrMY/s400/tumblr_kyi2khopd61qzr04eo1_500%255B1%255D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-5423985209145083474?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5423985209145083474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5423985209145083474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/picture-speaks-thousand-words.html' title='A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wOQ-29zIIb4/TkqKfbGBVgI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/AZsskbRMfjo/s72-c/tumblr_lcjek0cGJ41qa9u6ko1_500%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1667622621348985303</id><published>2011-08-16T22:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T22:51:37.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Knowing</title><content type='html'>"You know what I think we are afraid of? Not knowing. Not knowing whether its all worth it. Not knowing if you should give up or keep fighting. Not knowing why you do the things you do, not knowing the purpose. It's like when you're little and you touch the stove and get burned because you didn't know that it was hot. Not knowing has hurt us from the beginning."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1667622621348985303?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1667622621348985303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1667622621348985303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/not-knowing.html' title='Not Knowing'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-5690292511682555844</id><published>2011-08-14T15:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T15:49:43.757+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensive Moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Present fears are less than horrible imaginings." &lt;/strong&gt;- William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very often we let our fears and insecurities get the best of us. I came across a disturbing tumblr today. That person let her negativity devour her entirely; of extremely emotional posts to remind herself of how she'd never be good enough, how she'd never see the sunlight again. But she's one of the many people out there who suffer the same experiences. It made me reflect about how the roots of my emotional posts began. Truth is, I don't really remember how and when it started. I just got so caught up in it that it became a habit. Sure, i have my moments of insecurities, alot of it actually, but i never really knew how to pull myself out of that rabbit hole of negativity and fear. I let negativity get the best out of me. I refused to try for fear of failing and definitely it has been something I've been struggling with. When i do try, I'd fail, making what I've expected come true, well that's because I told myself that I'd fail before even truly trying. I don't really know what the point of this post is, but i really hope that whoever reads this, would know that whenever you're feeling down, negative, insecure, fearful, you're not alone, because there probably is another person many miles away feeling the same. As much as these seem like mere words; don't let these negativity get the best of you. It's hard not to, but wholeheartedly try to fight them, because you were the ones that let them in the first place. Only you can get rid of them. It's especially hard when you get so comfortable around negativity, but slowly, take your time, you'd eventually get out of that grueling maze. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-5690292511682555844?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5690292511682555844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5690292511682555844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/pensive-moments.html' title='Pensive Moments'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-3883955973605661932</id><published>2011-08-14T00:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T00:38:37.112+08:00</updated><title type='text'>我懂了</title><content type='html'>不用紧, 我没关系.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-3883955973605661932?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3883955973605661932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3883955973605661932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post_14.html' title='我懂了'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-10795569793967638</id><published>2011-08-12T19:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T19:58:07.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img class="inline" src="http://media6.onsugar.com/files/2011/07/29/1/690/6906624/f66d6a9a8646596c_tumblr_ll3tomeKKx1qdwlug.gif" width="290" height="217" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuteeeee~ This reminds me of you and your sister. Hahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-10795569793967638?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/10795569793967638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/10795569793967638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/cuteeeee-this-reminds-me-of-you-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2253754827727286513</id><published>2011-08-11T23:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T23:39:55.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break Away</title><content type='html'>I'm tired. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to try for anyone anymore. I'm sick of this. I just want to live for myself, and not anyone else. So what if I always spare a thought for others? So what if I cared for others? What do I get in return? No-fucking-thing. I don't even know if people appreciate what I do for them. They just take me for granted. As if i was supposed to care in the first place. Whenever I was unhappy, I always wished someone would care for me. So whenever i happen to see someone unhappy, I try my best to cheer them up. Tell me, was there once I wasn't there? I really don't know what I did to deserve such treatment from some people. I really don't know. Tell me where I went wrong? Treasured you, but the replies? I don't know what to say, so I keep it to myself. It's so heartbreaking. Sigh. Guess that's life. Someone would always be more important than me to everyone. I'm always the 2nd option they will choose. Just have to get used to how this works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2253754827727286513?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2253754827727286513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2253754827727286513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/break-away.html' title='Break Away'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4834740763909963914</id><published>2011-08-11T14:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T14:37:38.157+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Love You" ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EXTZ82p1sUk/TkN4qXL_nHI/AAAAAAAAAVg/_dmIlyhXesc/s1600/tumblr_kzx44gax801qaq5l7o1_500%255B1%255D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 289px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639483827572153458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EXTZ82p1sUk/TkN4qXL_nHI/AAAAAAAAAVg/_dmIlyhXesc/s400/tumblr_kzx44gax801qaq5l7o1_500%255B1%255D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lJEvDVt9sgE/TkN4qVIFYTI/AAAAAAAAAVY/htyfNgBmp-U/s1600/tumblr_kzp86fS1Ux1qa5zw1o1_400%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 359px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639483827018883378" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lJEvDVt9sgE/TkN4qVIFYTI/AAAAAAAAAVY/htyfNgBmp-U/s400/tumblr_kzp86fS1Ux1qa5zw1o1_400%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4834740763909963914?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4834740763909963914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4834740763909963914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-love-you.html' title='&quot;I Love You&quot; ?'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EXTZ82p1sUk/TkN4qXL_nHI/AAAAAAAAAVg/_dmIlyhXesc/s72-c/tumblr_kzx44gax801qaq5l7o1_500%255B1%255D.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8628660637929834946</id><published>2011-08-10T22:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T22:32:16.597+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell Me What To Do</title><content type='html'>I think i wanna sleep early today. Keep my mind off things especially @ night. It gets so fucking hard to fall asleep when your mind starts running wild making you think, hope &amp;amp; pray for the slightest positivity in everything, mainly your relationship. I'm sure everyone will go through this depressed point in their life. You think you're coping exceptionally well w your heartbreak in the day when you're w your friends. But when night comes, all you're hoping for would be that one mother fucking chance to rewind everything &amp;amp; go back to the past &amp;amp; well for daytime to come. You feel so fucking tired emotionally, fucking tormented mentally and fucking suffocating physically, yet you can't do anything about it. Because there's no point fighting your feelings when that's how you feel? However when you do get the chance to fall asleep, you scare yourself up w nightmares or you find yourself waking up crying. Worst of all, you wake up hoping to receive just one special text but end up crying because you see nothing. You proceed to crying yourself to bed &amp;amp; waking w gold fish eyes not giving two hoots 'bout how you look. You check your phone for texts again w the slightest glimpse of hope &amp;amp; naivety but finds nothing to no surprise. You look yourself in the mirror during your morning routines &amp;amp; sigh, you comfort yourself &lt;strong&gt;"Things will get better. Get a grip of yourself. Stop being such a pussy. Everything happens for a reason. Sunshine comes after rain. This is part and parcel of life " &lt;/strong&gt;You find yourself checking your phone practically every minute. You type out what's killing you, you find that one name, but then backspace everything because y'know realistically that things have come to a point salvage cease existence. As the day goes by. You hear the song you all once shared, it brings back all the memories &amp;amp; subconsciously you start breaking down, not knowing what to do. But to cry helplessly. You find yourself feeling extremely heavy. You don't know how that feeling comes about nor do y'know how to explain it to someone just to make yourself feel better. You just feel heavy. This goes on for days, weeks &amp;amp; months. If you're strong you find yourself healing, if you're not you're just living everyday blindly. When your friends send you texts asking you to stay strong, you cry even harder because you feel lousy. You ask yourself what's so hard 'bout coping with things &amp;amp; stop making people worry? You find that the toughest question you've ever faced thus it leads back to square one. cry. Overtime, you find crying similar to breathing. you find heavy overtaking happy. But the best of all, the cherry on the top, the sunshine rainbows unicorns after rain, during this point of your life, you find friends who truly am willing to pick up those shattered pieces for you &amp;amp; mending them back. This might take up all of their time, it might last years but y'know that deep down they're willing to do this on their own accord and because they love you.Your heart might still be full of scratches, bits &amp;amp; pieces may not fit properly, cracks here &amp;amp; there. But y'know they've done all that they can. Well, if they mend it perfectly for you, there won't be space for the right one who then will mend it fully for you to have a chance to. True?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8628660637929834946?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8628660637929834946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8628660637929834946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/tell-me-what-to-do.html' title='Tell Me What To Do'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8192086322498714018</id><published>2011-08-10T22:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T22:03:52.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Takes Two Hand To Clap</title><content type='html'>" You tell yourself if someone wants you, he or she should fight for you. But then again, you need to knw that not everyone is courageous enough, to fight for your existence not knowing what the outcome may be. Because he or she, might be scared of hurt, scared to love too. "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8192086322498714018?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8192086322498714018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8192086322498714018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/it-takes-two-hand-to-clap.html' title='It Takes Two Hand To Clap'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2425899359678646892</id><published>2011-08-09T00:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T00:26:09.478+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody Is Perfect</title><content type='html'>Had a good talk with Dan and Emily. I guess they are right, i should be contented with my life, i hope all of you out there are happy with your life too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean everything happens for a reason, you might not see it now but I'm sure you will in time to come &amp; I'm definitely sure you're not the only one going through such shit, there's always someone out there whose suffering 2x 3x 4x 5x worse than you. Heartbreaks are horrible, but you'll find yourself getting stronger in some way or another which comes off as a benefit. I strongly believe in karma, so I'm trying my best to treat people how i wanna be treated. I tell myself everyday to stop wishing for things, let nature takes it's own course. You'll be surprised by how contented you are when you least expect anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time round, &lt;br /&gt;i need to learn not to force things.&lt;br /&gt;Well i mean I'm still really young in a way.&lt;br /&gt;Just wanna get everything back on track this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2425899359678646892?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2425899359678646892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2425899359678646892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/nobody-is-perfect.html' title='Nobody Is Perfect'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8823455369645464701</id><published>2011-08-09T00:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T00:21:06.541+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cherish Before It Perish~</title><content type='html'>Recently, I've been wondering what exactly would people say to me in my funeral after i die. Today dan said that "E&lt;strong&gt;ven if i die the world continues to move on, it doesn't stop for you, for anyone"&lt;/strong&gt;. So trueeeee. We're all so insignificant in some way or another. But well, just remember that we're all created to make this world a better place. To balance out evil &amp;amp; good. Ying &amp;amp; yang. Black &amp;amp; white. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;We're all perfectly imperfect. Always cherish before it perish &amp;amp; love yourself before loving others. &lt;/em&gt;You live for yourself then for others.&lt;/strong&gt; Never judge a person by their looks. This world is selfish, we all should be too, in some way or another. But never walk pass a blind man on the road without helping him when you see the green man ticking. Never walk pass a busker and not donate atleast 10c from your pocket. Never make an elderly do things for you. Never ever ill treat anyone or any being, animals. Love everyone around you. Every time you feel like shit, know that there are people out there in a worse state than you. Most importantly, respect your body. Respect other's body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoever who even comes to this space.&lt;br /&gt;Let's make the world a better place. Help donate to a busker, help an elderly buy tissues etc. Do a good deed. Trust me you'll feel so much better after that :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8823455369645464701?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8823455369645464701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8823455369645464701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/cherish-before-it-perish.html' title='Cherish Before It Perish~'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4789869201156195148</id><published>2011-08-09T00:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T00:09:21.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only A Human</title><content type='html'>I'm such a disappointment. My words are so crude, so brainless. I hate how I'm so pessimistic 'bout everything in my life now. Seriously, what have i become? I've never felt more shitty in my life. Me being stupid me thinking that I'm the most pathetic creature in this world that don't deserve anyone. So disappointed in myself. I used to be so so happy, like one ball of fats, one ball of fats whose happy, one ball of fats whose happy &amp; optimistic, one ball of fats whose happy &amp; optimistic &amp;... skinnier. HAHAHA. Aiyaaaaaa walau. I really don't know what have i become. So monstrous, so demonic, so devilries. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4789869201156195148?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4789869201156195148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4789869201156195148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/only-human.html' title='Only A Human'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2094434586306056786</id><published>2011-08-01T22:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T22:50:38.214+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Ran As Fast As I Could</title><content type='html'>I’m sorry if I have hold you too tight , because I can’t think there’s more than enough time for us. Time and again , I’ll try and try even though it hurts like shit , but I’ll let you free. If you think I’m head over heels , yes I am. I never told you something , I ran away from you , I pushed my head and my heart on the running track ,  I do sweat and at the same time these beads of sweat and tears collides so nobody knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2094434586306056786?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2094434586306056786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2094434586306056786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-ran-as-fast-as-i-could.html' title='I Ran As Fast As I Could'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8277318970273235531</id><published>2011-08-01T21:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T21:10:03.239+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Day</title><content type='html'>Think of something you couldn’t live without, and multiply it by a hundred.&lt;br /&gt;Think of what happiness means to you, and add it to the feeling you get on the best days you’ve ever had. Add up all your best feelings and take away all the rest, and what you’re left with is exactly how I feel about you.&lt;br /&gt;You matter more to me than you can imagine and much more than I’ll ever be able to explain. Whichever night that I fell in love with you, whichever day we got our lives intertwined, whichever quarrels we have &amp; all of the obstacles we been through, of all the times you brought me ups and down i thank god I found you, I’d never regret how I fell in love &amp; how my heart start pounding when you came knocking. I would hold you close to my heart, no matter how far you are away from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8277318970273235531?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8277318970273235531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8277318970273235531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/best-day.html' title='The Best Day'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7540313944129178914</id><published>2011-08-01T20:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T21:07:22.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Phonecalls From You</title><content type='html'>I hope I wasn’t wrong in saying this . I missed hearing you on the other side of the phonecalls . Be it a minute or so , I want to know how are you doing . The way you speak , how your day went is like a memory to me . I hope you see this wherever you are , don’t forget to drop me a call. It have been more than awhile since these sleepless nights. Can I bid you goodnight the next time you call?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7540313944129178914?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7540313944129178914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7540313944129178914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/08/simple-phonecalls-from-you.html' title='Simple Phonecalls From You'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4700568563260386709</id><published>2011-07-31T23:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T23:19:48.154+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Still Love You Anyway</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NAc83CF8Ejk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The saddest kind of sad is the sad that tries not to be sad. Yknow, when sad tries to bite its lips &amp; not cry, smile &amp; go, “No, im happy for you” That’s when its really sad”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though its over, I can’t help myself from looking for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4700568563260386709?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4700568563260386709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4700568563260386709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/07/ill-still-love-you-anyway.html' title='I&apos;ll Still Love You Anyway'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/NAc83CF8Ejk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-6364397822604681192</id><published>2011-07-29T17:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T17:54:24.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace</title><content type='html'>Because i cant find peace within my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Because i cant face the things ive been avoiding.&lt;br /&gt;Because i’ve been lying to myself.&lt;br /&gt;Because i dont wanna be weak, so i escape.&lt;br /&gt;But escaping shows that im weaker than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;But its the easiest way out.&lt;br /&gt;Because there’s this void inside me im hoping to fill.&lt;br /&gt;I can write a whole lot of excuses why i cant even though i want.&lt;br /&gt;But You know clearly only that one reason why i cant.&lt;br /&gt;And wanting alone is not gonna make me go for it.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime i stand in Your presence, i close my eyes the same thing will replay.&lt;br /&gt;Then i push You away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-6364397822604681192?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/6364397822604681192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/6364397822604681192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/07/peace.html' title='Peace'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1023391693090948383</id><published>2011-06-26T02:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T02:51:33.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'>);</title><content type='html'>I miss talking to you on the phone for hours. I miss talking to you about everything and anything. Don't you have anything to talk to me anymore? It feels like you've run out of things to talk to me... How is that even possible? I once told my friend's that I feel very comfortable talking to you and its like we never ever run out of topics. But now... We don't even text that often anymore. Sigh... ):&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1023391693090948383?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1023391693090948383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1023391693090948383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title=');'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2800581134786713560</id><published>2011-06-26T01:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T01:39:30.051+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heavy Heart</title><content type='html'>Time check : 01:40AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still wide awake. I'm really not feeling well and have also taken four pills. But how can I sleep with so many things on my mind and a heavy heart? Today's 26th, our sixteen Monthsary. It's seems to have lost it's meaning, it seems like it doesn't mean anything to you anymore. It hurts me that you didn't say anything about today even when I told you that it's 26th today. Although we wouldn't be celebrating together, the date still means alot to me. Every month on this day reminds me of our sweet moment together on the past. I really miss you and me alot, alot. But I miss  us more. I really wanted to let you experience the feeling of happiness that noone could let you feel instead, I've brought misery. I.. I'm utterly sorry. Despite the fact that I very much want to keep you to myself for the rest of my life, that I can't afford to lose you and I can't bear to see you leave, i can't be selfish anymore. I believe I can give you everything you ever needed and wanted. I believe I can make you the happiest woman in the world. I believe in our love. But I can't keep you to myself and see you suffering. I'd rather hurt myself than to see hurt you. I'm letting you go now. I know I'll definitely regret the next second but I'm not gonna deprive you of the happiness you deserve. You deserve so much more. You will always stay in my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2800581134786713560?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2800581134786713560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2800581134786713560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/06/heavy-heart.html' title='Heavy Heart'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7437171876288720568</id><published>2011-06-25T01:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T01:10:45.478+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Guess you're ignoring me again, right? I know you had a long day in school, I know you're tired. I just, miss you alot. I wanna hear your voice. The other day, I woke up as early as 05:45AM to morning call you even tho I was having a high fever. I really wanna hear you. I call upteem times but you didn't answer any... I know youre in a rush in the morning but I just wanna greet you a "good morning, Jiayou for today!". It wont take long,  atmost 2 mins? It's okay. Have a good rest tonight, sleep tight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7437171876288720568?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7437171876288720568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7437171876288720568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/06/guess-youre-ignoring-me-again-right-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2319854248168734266</id><published>2011-06-24T23:52:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T00:47:54.317+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Lost You</title><content type='html'>You don't care about me anymore. You say you still do, but it just feel different now. I try to get your attention, tried so hard but I fail to do so. I know you dislike me saying this but I'm still gonna say this. Why is it so easy for him to get your attention. He don't even have to do anything, he don't even have to try. You will notice him. He can write his thoughts on his Facebook/blog and you will comfort him and make him happy. What about me...? You wanted me to tell you everything and when I do, you get angry and irritated. Twitter is the only place for me to express my thought but whenever I do so, you will say "there you go again". You are so unfair to me, so bias... Why is it that you can do certain things and that I can't? You text guys (it's not like I wanna text girls), you write things on twitter where everyone else can see it and etc. Do yknow that sometimes, you make me feel so worthless... Make me feel like a desperate idiot. I'll keep everything inside me from now onwards. Why... Once in awhile, I just needed your reassurance, need to know where I stand in your heart, need to know you still care, need to know I'm still the one... Where'd you go? I just miss you, I miss you so much. The one who cares about me, my well-being and everything else. The one who misses me all the time. The one that used to love me so much. The one that will do anything to make me happy. The one that hate seeing me upset. You're no longer you. This is not Jeanine Ho Xue Ting. 算了, 我也累了... If I ever send you such bs to you again, ignore me. Nevermind about me. 如果我们再次分手, 我不要你会到我身边, 我只希望你会幸福快乐..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2319854248168734266?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2319854248168734266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2319854248168734266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-lost-you.html' title='I Lost You'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7788007465869007345</id><published>2011-05-29T16:32:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T19:17:33.099+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trains Of Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/bevischaney"&gt;@bevischaney&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7788007465869007345?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7788007465869007345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7788007465869007345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/05/bevischaney.html' title='Trains Of Thoughts'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-6847922829808103245</id><published>2011-04-04T22:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T00:12:37.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Problem One : Meet Up</title><content type='html'>*Read this post only when you've decided to have a future with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know for these past thirteen months and nine days, we haven't even meet up for once. Pathetic much, I know. Let me tell you something. When we got together for the first few months, I told you I wanted to send you to school but you rejected me. Frankly speaking, I felt rather sad and it did bother me for quite some time. After some being together with you, you somehow motivated me. So I told myself, I must stop fooling around and get down to business. I made up my mind and set my goals thus I decided to prioritize my studies and stay focus. One of the reasons why I am doing so is because of you. Since I've decided to have a future together with you, all the more should I work harder to ensure a better future for both you and I. Another reasons is because I feel that I'm still not eligible enough for you. I know it clearly in my heart that with only an ITE cert, I'm not going to have a very promising future and I don't wish to drag you down and suffer with me. I want to give you a comfortable and financial stable life in future, one that doesn't involved any worries. I shall not beat around the bush and get to the point. What I'm trying to tell you here is I won't be able to meet up with you for now, neither can I celebrate any special occasion with you. I know that you're very upset and feeling terrible regarding this. I also know I'm being very selfish here but I seek your understanding. Please know that I'm also not having a good time struggling with this issue. Just to clear the air with you, Im not married neither do I've a child and you're definitely not my secret affair. Im not avoiding you and definitely not because I don't feel proud showing you off. I just want to get over and done with my studies and spend every other day together with you after that. Therefore, I sincerely hope that you can put yourself in my shoes and understand the situation I'm in right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Now that you've finish reading this first post, do you feel me? Can you understand that situation im in? Most importantly, do you still want to continue with me? If you find that I'm just being ridiculous, looking for excuses to pull off then I've got nothing to say. You can take your leave, I won't blame you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-6847922829808103245?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/6847922829808103245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/6847922829808103245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/04/problem-one-meet-up.html' title='Problem One : Meet Up'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1301031630330132792</id><published>2011-04-04T14:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T19:37:57.342+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Heart Goes On A Road Trip, The Boys Stays At Home</title><content type='html'>I told you I'd miss you. And damn right I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought occupying myself with house chores and straying alone at night, would help me keep my mind of you. But it seems a lot difficult the more I try to stop my mind from working. The worst thing is that you're not here, and I do not dare to sleep, knowing that I'll dream of you like I do every other day. I glance at my phone for every 2 minutes, anticipating any unexpected call. I know you can't and you won't, but I prefer keeping myself disappointed. It allows me to believe that you're coming home sooner than expected, even when you're not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silence is killing me and the day felt terribly long, and I still have a few more days to go before I finally have you in my arms again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damnn, you don't know how much I miss it when you get angry at me, or the goofy smile you tend to give whenever you make a joke. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll leave it as it is now and sleep through the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A note for you;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll still love you for every other day, and I hope the sky seems as dark to you as it is to me when we're far apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as Im getting along with your absence, I'm not getting along without your voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come home, sweetie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1301031630330132792?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1301031630330132792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1301031630330132792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-told-you-id-miss-you.html' title='The Heart Goes On A Road Trip, The Boys Stays At Home'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-3301283053600080644</id><published>2011-04-04T11:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T11:18:22.257+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Distant But Close At Heart</title><content type='html'>Albeit a swirling sense of emptiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found comfort at the thought that she'd close her eyes and paint a vivid image of a night that we both know we'll never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waves, the wind and the beautiful night sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe for a moment, I could almost feel her close. And how i wished she was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-3301283053600080644?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3301283053600080644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3301283053600080644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/04/distant-but-close-at-heart.html' title='Distant But Close At Heart'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-5050460958543996371</id><published>2011-04-02T20:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-02T20:31:07.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever And Ever</title><content type='html'>As I slid my window open, I breathed in the evening air and took a deep stare at the skies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered what emotions might be running through her mind and if I was even a part of it. I then sat for a further five minutes, clearly observing the cloudless, sea-coloured skies. I finally whispered a soft "I love you", wishing that the wind would pass on the message, to the one girl that I hold dearest to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, I feel helpless. Knowing that I could never find the right words to tell her how much I missed her. Usually, It's a case of, "hey, I missed you" and our conversation would soon drift to a different topic and I would be left hangin' there, wishing that I could've said more. I would often beat myself up whenever my mood was screwed during a phonecall. Because she would be there, talking and telling me tales of her day with the sweet voice that I have become accustomed to. And on the other phone line, I would be the occasional moodswing-prone idiot, sticking to the silence instead of engaging myself to the conversation, even though my heart is beating the hell out of my mind(the one who traps the happy tone of my voice when my moodswings peak).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered as well, hard enuff to make my mind burst, to why her heart glanced back at a past that was never a fairytale. To why it cried out to a boy who's not even good-looking to begin with. And in an instant, a thousand more questions began to fill my mind. Asking if i am even worthy enough to belong to her deep sensual eyes or if i even deserve to have her wrapped in this useless arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as unworthy as I am, I love her. Enough to make me realise that this is the girl I wanna spend the rest of my life with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured that she's a gift from god. Only sent to derive a sense of happiness in me, when at the time, I was as miserable as a sweet wrapper left littered in a place it never knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know. I know that it has something to do with more than that. Something that I will never learn to explain, until this heart has reached pure elation that could never be replaced by any shape or form of feelings any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, I would realise that all of this was right after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether the outcome is sadness and despair, or pure joy and elation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a step,a major step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towards falling forever and ever in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-5050460958543996371?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5050460958543996371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5050460958543996371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/04/forever-and-ever.html' title='Forever And Ever'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7274463653040269719</id><published>2011-03-15T15:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T16:14:17.062+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Pretending? Pretending that you are the only one I love? So all these while, my heartfelt words and real feelings I put into our relationship was all just an act to you? You couldn't feel it at all? Why're you forever so unfair to me? Why're you accusing me of something which is not true?  What did I do wrong to deserve this? Just because of that post? You concluded everything just base on your assumption. After all that we've been true, after all that I did, after so much, you're still not convinced that I truely only love you? How could you..? I've never ever compared you with her. I've never ever allowed my heart to waver when I was with you. I stayed faithful to you. And this is you saying things like that to me.  HAHAH. What a fool I have been. If you want to break up with me, find a better excuses. Why.. Why do you have to send another text telling me you were referring to she and I? I know, I know who you were referring to. That text was uncalled for, you didn't have to do that. And thanks. Losing you was hard enough and now you want to forget about me. No worries, I'll never ever pester you like before. I believe you will be able to forget me in no time. All the best. You can now go for your Mr Right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7274463653040269719?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7274463653040269719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7274463653040269719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/03/pretending-pretending-that-you-are-only.html' title=''/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-3752027432905546549</id><published>2011-03-09T21:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T22:12:26.838+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We had a fight again last night. I have to admit that im really upset and hurt  by your texts. But I understood your reasons behind your doings, really. It's just that.. Do you know what do I look forward to every night? Yes, it's hearing your voice. Frankly speaking, i cant go on a day without hearing your voice. And y'know what? Your voice never fail to put a smile on my face regardless of whatever situation we are in. I miss you so much every single day. I wish I could selfishly keep you to myself. But in reality, it's impossible. Im sorry, ive been so selfish. You're right, at the end of the day, only your family will be by your side truly. So I've decided, I'll not text/call you anymore in future. On a side note, I missed you so so fucking badly today. But I didn't have the courage to texts you afraid that I might disturb. &amp; this stupidboy93 missed your call by seven minutes.. Seven minutes!! ): &lt;br /&gt;我很想你可是有不可以打给你也不可以传简讯给你 ):&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-3752027432905546549?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3752027432905546549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3752027432905546549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/03/we-had-fight-again-last-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1798577872410700346</id><published>2011-01-19T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T21:12:46.804+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You</title><content type='html'>This is about this girl whom i loved so much and who we both fight so hard just so we could get together . She decided to leave me now and im so stuck at the same place . I writing so that maybe one day when she comes back she know im still waiting for her .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her then , i love her now and i'll love her till i die .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1798577872410700346?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1798577872410700346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1798577872410700346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/you.html' title='You'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2898138106634084200</id><published>2011-01-18T18:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T18:51:07.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Back , Please</title><content type='html'>You as usual been on my mind the whole day .&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to come online , im afraid to know anything about you .&lt;br /&gt;But in the end , i still have to come online .&lt;br /&gt;Im strong to stop myself from trying to find out anything about you .&lt;br /&gt;Everyday i wonder if you'd miss me at least that bit . Because i truly love you more than i myself had imagined and it really hurts bad even till now .&lt;br /&gt;It still feel like a fresh wound with deep cuts right through .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im on my way to find myself as you've always wanted .&lt;br /&gt;When i do find myself , id come chasing for you for the rest of my life .&lt;br /&gt;Mark my words , you know id do it .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happily telling my friends the very first time when i feel my love for you .&lt;br /&gt;If we ever got the chance again , let's replay it .&lt;br /&gt;Its only at the end , is the time we'd look back to the start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2898138106634084200?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2898138106634084200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2898138106634084200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/come-back-please.html' title='Come Back , Please'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1112024719545568281</id><published>2011-01-18T18:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T18:40:59.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love You And Id Repeat It Infinite Times For You</title><content type='html'>My heart isn't at 2 places this time round , for once I clearly know who's the one I really love and who I really want to be with ...&lt;br /&gt;I even gave myself away when my thoughts and speech went out of control for a moment ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But would she ever knows ? Or does she still thinks that I prefer the other ?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so easy to get someone to love you but so hard to get th one you really love stay with you ?&lt;br /&gt;I miss you, so much..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait for me to finish building my brick house , id open the door and wait for you to come back .&lt;br /&gt;Id wait for forever and a day .&lt;br /&gt;Anytime you're ready , turn around you'd sure see me .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1112024719545568281?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1112024719545568281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1112024719545568281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-love-you-and-id-repeat-it-infinite.html' title='I Love You And Id Repeat It Infinite Times For You'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7465318634651430529</id><published>2011-01-18T18:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T18:33:26.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Everytime i read those posts you used to write , id smile ..&lt;br /&gt;They're the things that keep me going and smiling .&lt;br /&gt;And your face that always appear whenever i close my eyes ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohh gosh , will you ever be back ?&lt;br /&gt;Will i ever get any chance to fight for you back ?&lt;br /&gt;I dont even know how i could talk to you now ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl with my ace of hearts , i miss you real bad .&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel it ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7465318634651430529?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7465318634651430529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7465318634651430529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/everytime-i-read-those-posts-you-used.html' title=''/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-8614307439180637259</id><published>2011-01-04T17:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T17:25:27.789+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I’d Be Lying If I Said I’d Have Stopped Loving You By Then</title><content type='html'>I’m so restless . In my mind I keep going back there where I’m not suppose to be . I need to get my mind back here , I’ve got my goals to achieve right now . I can’t be off track again . MIND + ACTION , that’s what’s on my board now , I need to get there better &amp;amp; faster than him . I miss you , please wait for me .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-8614307439180637259?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8614307439180637259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/8614307439180637259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/id-be-lying-if-i-said-id-have-stopped.html' title='I’d Be Lying If I Said I’d Have Stopped Loving You By Then'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1796123142011580986</id><published>2011-01-04T17:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T17:19:01.027+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cause I Don't Want Anyone Else To Have You</title><content type='html'>When you forget me&lt;br /&gt;When you don’t remember my name&lt;br /&gt;Not even a memory&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in the back of your brain&lt;br /&gt;I won’t be offended&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cause I’ll always know that the day&lt;br /&gt;Will come when I’m not enough to make you stay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually you’d be gone&lt;br /&gt;I’ll always love you&lt;br /&gt;Oh believe it or not&lt;br /&gt;Baby that’s not enough to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it’s all said and done&lt;br /&gt;I’ll just be a speck in the galaxy&lt;br /&gt;Floating far away by gravity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like falling stars&lt;br /&gt;Like crashing cars&lt;br /&gt;Like falling stars over your head&lt;br /&gt;They’ve been bound to burn out&lt;br /&gt;Crashing ’cause I’ll never get over you&lt;br /&gt;Cause you are so beautiful, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow i believe songs lyrics could express more than words itself . Maybe im contradicting myself but whatever . Right now , ive only 2 things to focus on . &amp;amp; i believe id would do it . Afterall its not whether i can do it or not , its how much i want it . I’d get there before you know it , id be there proving to you i did fight for you &amp;amp; im still fighting even till now . I just merely took a detour &amp;amp; took a little longer than i should have . But id get there .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1796123142011580986?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1796123142011580986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1796123142011580986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/one-who-falls-in-love-first-loses.html' title='Cause I Don&apos;t Want Anyone Else To Have You'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-602490052264128321</id><published>2011-01-04T16:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T17:01:08.797+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im Waiting , Waiting Outside The Line</title><content type='html'>My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to&lt;br /&gt;Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small&lt;br /&gt;You never need to carry more than you can hold&lt;br /&gt;And while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to&lt;br /&gt;I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, this, is my wish&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-602490052264128321?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/602490052264128321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/602490052264128321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-waiting-waiting-outside-line.html' title='Im Waiting , Waiting Outside The Line'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4393268244896289825</id><published>2011-01-04T16:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T16:57:45.259+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatever It Takes</title><content type='html'>When i get there , i want you here to see me at the top . I want to be the best you ever had . You believe that when people are meant to be together , no matter how long , they’ll find their way back to each other yeah . I want to prove us right , I want you to see that its not about being stubborn . But right now , i know i dont deserve you neither do you want me. I’d be fine &amp;amp; i’d do whatever it takes to get there where you’d turn around &amp;amp; take a fucking look at me . That im always here .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4393268244896289825?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4393268244896289825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4393268244896289825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/whatever-it-takes.html' title='Whatever It Takes'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4745763737804170691</id><published>2011-01-04T16:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T16:51:43.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Give Me Something That’ll Haunt Me When You’re Not Around</title><content type='html'>I still remember the look on your face&lt;br /&gt;Lit through the darkness at 1:58&lt;br /&gt;The words that you whispered&lt;br /&gt;For just us to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You told me you loved me&lt;br /&gt;So why did you go away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Away…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do recall now&lt;br /&gt;The smell of the rain&lt;br /&gt;Fresh on the pavement&lt;br /&gt;I ran off the plane&lt;br /&gt;That July 9th&lt;br /&gt;The beat of your heart&lt;br /&gt;It jumps through your shirt&lt;br /&gt;I can still feel your arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I’ll go sit on the floor&lt;br /&gt;Wearing your clothes&lt;br /&gt;All that I know is that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don’t know how to be something you miss&lt;br /&gt;Never thought we’d have a last kiss&lt;br /&gt;Never imagined we’d end like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Your name, forever the name on my lips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do remember&lt;br /&gt;The swing in your step&lt;br /&gt;The life of the party, you’re showing off again&lt;br /&gt;And I roll my eyes and then&lt;br /&gt;You pull me in&lt;br /&gt;I’m not much for dancing&lt;br /&gt;But for you I did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I love your handshake&lt;br /&gt;Meeting my father&lt;br /&gt;I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets&lt;br /&gt;How you kissed me when I was in the middle of saying something&lt;br /&gt;There’s not a day when I don’t miss those rude interruptions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll watch you live in pictures like I used to watch you sleep&lt;br /&gt;And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe&lt;br /&gt;And I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are&lt;br /&gt;Hope it’s nice where you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hope the sun shines&lt;br /&gt;And it’s a beautiful day&lt;br /&gt;And something reminds you&lt;br /&gt;You wish you had stayed&lt;br /&gt;You can plan for a change in weather and town&lt;br /&gt;But I never planned on you changing your mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like our last kiss&lt;br /&gt;Forever the name on my lips&lt;br /&gt;Forever the name on my lips&lt;br /&gt;Just like our last…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4745763737804170691?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4745763737804170691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4745763737804170691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-still-remember-look-on-your-face-lit.html' title='Give Me Something That’ll Haunt Me When You’re Not Around'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-9083919682099969641</id><published>2010-11-16T11:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T11:41:45.905+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6g6g2mvItp4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6g6g2mvItp4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-9083919682099969641?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/9083919682099969641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/9083919682099969641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-875452672793211791</id><published>2010-10-30T10:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T10:46:24.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love You More Than Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TMuG3930SjI/AAAAAAAAAUk/bP0ZZPwqNDM/s1600/luv.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 361px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533664863214389810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TMuG3930SjI/AAAAAAAAAUk/bP0ZZPwqNDM/s400/luv.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-875452672793211791?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/875452672793211791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/875452672793211791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-love-you-more-than-life.html' title='I Love You More Than Life'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TMuG3930SjI/AAAAAAAAAUk/bP0ZZPwqNDM/s72-c/luv.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1754876684814622282</id><published>2010-10-26T00:00:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T10:47:11.799+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Ninth Monthsary ♥</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qqN4rB_l4Hc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qqN4rB_l4Hc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NrilNQuq60k?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NrilNQuq60k?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the reason that keeps me breathing.&lt;br /&gt;You're the reason that keeps me alive.&lt;br /&gt;You're the reason why I wake up in the morning and fall asleep with hope for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;You've changed me for the better.&lt;br /&gt;You make me realised what's good and what's not.&lt;br /&gt;You make me realised who and what I want in life.&lt;br /&gt;You keep a smile on my face and you make my heart race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you , Jeanine .&lt;br /&gt;BABY ! You're simply amazing-incredible-awesome-splendid-marvelous-wonderful ! ^^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-1754876684814622282?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1754876684814622282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1754876684814622282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post_26.html' title='Happy Ninth Monthsary ♥'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7424212207778593405</id><published>2010-10-20T00:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T00:56:39.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cause, You're The One</title><content type='html'>I'd rather have bad times with you, than good times with someone else&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be beside you in a storm, than safe and warm by myself&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather have hard times together, than to have it easy apart&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather have the one who holds my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7424212207778593405?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7424212207778593405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7424212207778593405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/10/cause-youre-one.html' title='Cause, You&apos;re The One'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4174512194178315437</id><published>2010-10-13T19:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T19:37:12.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It’s The Faith That We’re Losing And The Truth That We Hide</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TLWZlqtck5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/DNWNBwg7xkU/s1600/tumblr_l6gp72qbqn1qbpwzeo1_500%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527492990066267026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TLWZlqtck5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/DNWNBwg7xkU/s400/tumblr_l6gp72qbqn1qbpwzeo1_500%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wish there was a way to tell you that i miss you. I wish that you’d just talk to me, cant you? I'm fucked up. I cant get to sleep every night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4174512194178315437?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4174512194178315437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4174512194178315437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-faith-that-were-losing-and-truth.html' title='It’s The Faith That We’re Losing And The Truth That We Hide'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TLWZlqtck5I/AAAAAAAAAUc/DNWNBwg7xkU/s72-c/tumblr_l6gp72qbqn1qbpwzeo1_500%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-5386340494063523153</id><published>2010-10-06T22:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T19:30:42.584+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m already at my best'/><title type='text'>I'm Not Perfect But I Keep Trying</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKyCPJUkrmI/AAAAAAAAAUM/2_CPMdb8PL8/s1600/tumblr_l93taa07w51qzwldso1_400%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524934039588613730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKyCPJUkrmI/AAAAAAAAAUM/2_CPMdb8PL8/s400/tumblr_l93taa07w51qzwldso1_400%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-5386340494063523153?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5386340494063523153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5386340494063523153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-may-not-be-better-than-him-but-im.html' title='I&apos;m Not Perfect But I Keep Trying'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKyCPJUkrmI/AAAAAAAAAUM/2_CPMdb8PL8/s72-c/tumblr_l93taa07w51qzwldso1_400%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2337718180908922631</id><published>2010-09-29T22:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T22:30:02.198+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I found myself the best girl i never want to give up on'/><title type='text'>Blessed With Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6tpl9LtkRRw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6tpl9LtkRRw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="420" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2337718180908922631?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2337718180908922631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2337718180908922631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title='Blessed With Love'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-5837315067626150448</id><published>2010-09-25T23:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:37:08.728+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girlfriend's Such A Sweetheart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TJ9Yyc4oA1I/AAAAAAAAATU/snWgNhvDbo0/s1600/4840668622_2614de56d8_b%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521229291949917010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TJ9Yyc4oA1I/AAAAAAAAATU/snWgNhvDbo0/s400/4840668622_2614de56d8_b%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-5837315067626150448?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5837315067626150448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/5837315067626150448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-girlfriends-such-sweetheart.html' title='My Girlfriend&apos;s Such A Sweetheart'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TJ9Yyc4oA1I/AAAAAAAAATU/snWgNhvDbo0/s72-c/4840668622_2614de56d8_b%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4788091503491527366</id><published>2010-09-17T17:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T17:35:27.311+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I’m Falling Apart , I’m Barely Breathing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I am so selfish , constantly drenching both of us in sorrows because that’s really how I feel . I shouldn’t let you feel that because you didn’t deserve that . I whispered sorry but you are just too far to hear . It’s just that I’m too naive to understand why the world have to turn , everything has to go on and time waits for no man , I can’t keep you to myself for , forever . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4788091503491527366?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4788091503491527366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4788091503491527366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-falling-apart-im-barely-breathing.html' title='I’m Falling Apart , I’m Barely Breathing'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2906968562998027144</id><published>2010-09-12T18:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T18:45:28.796+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My sunshine'/><title type='text'>Dear You ,</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TIyupgyQUZI/AAAAAAAAAS8/S3ohrr9gaMY/s1600/tumblr_l7fv69nEJ81qa0r3co1_500%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515975671820603794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TIyupgyQUZI/AAAAAAAAAS8/S3ohrr9gaMY/s400/tumblr_l7fv69nEJ81qa0r3co1_500%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/985601098703747682-2906968562998027144?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2906968562998027144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2906968562998027144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/09/dear-you.html' title='Dear You ,'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TIyupgyQUZI/AAAAAAAAAS8/S3ohrr9gaMY/s72-c/tumblr_l7fv69nEJ81qa0r3co1_500%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-2587916532618887671</id><published>2010-08-27T22:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T22:45:45.038+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Insignificant'/><title type='text'>Do You Still Remember To Remember Me ?</title><content type='html'>I ____ ____ ____ ____ today.&lt;br /&gt;But I only ____ ____ ____ and cannot be found again.&lt;br /&gt;No chance to ____ ____ ____ ____ ____.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-2587916532618887671?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2587916532618887671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/2587916532618887671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/08/she-broke-my-heart.html' title='Do You Still Remember To Remember Me ?'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-334191635126171433</id><published>2010-08-21T22:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T22:49:27.515+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aware'/><title type='text'>Coming Clean</title><content type='html'>And then she said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have to understand, she cannot stand losing him again. She needs him. It is no longer a want. You have to understand, that without him she will lose her mind. She is out to command and conquer. You need to understand, his heart belongs to her. He is human. You have to understand, he loves her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to understand, that she loves him too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-334191635126171433?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/334191635126171433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/334191635126171433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/08/coming-clean.html' title='Coming Clean'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-4544608917371564226</id><published>2010-08-15T20:26:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:37:14.319+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Down'/><title type='text'>I Thought I Was Done , But Out Of Nowhere , Memories Popped Up To Take Over My Mind And Kill My Brain Cells</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0GCrgb2CLV4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0GCrgb2CLV4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="420" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-4544608917371564226?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4544608917371564226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/4544608917371564226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-thought-i-was-done-but-out-of-nowhere.html' title='I Thought I Was Done , But Out Of Nowhere , Memories Popped Up To Take Over My Mind And Kill My Brain Cells'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-898021518204935211</id><published>2010-07-18T22:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:41:16.923+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tell them what i hoped would be impossible'/><title type='text'>True Love Doesn't Mean Being Inseparable ; It Means , Seperated And Nothing Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TEMLfLXzuRI/AAAAAAAAARI/gjbVOiKJQPs/s1600/tumblr_l0307mz4YD1qzyrwvo1_500%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 335px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495248600578636050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TEMLfLXzuRI/AAAAAAAAARI/gjbVOiKJQPs/s400/tumblr_l0307mz4YD1qzyrwvo1_500%5B1%5D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-898021518204935211?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/898021518204935211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/898021518204935211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/07/true-love-doesnt-mean-being-inseparable.html' title='True Love Doesn&apos;t Mean Being Inseparable ; It Means , Seperated And Nothing Changes'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TEMLfLXzuRI/AAAAAAAAARI/gjbVOiKJQPs/s72-c/tumblr_l0307mz4YD1qzyrwvo1_500%5B1%5D.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-7496861901422751339</id><published>2010-07-17T15:07:00.017+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:44:21.925+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wonder if you already knew'/><title type='text'>I Miss You</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="25"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8UqlZdqONvY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8UqlZdqONvY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="420" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-7496861901422751339?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7496861901422751339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/7496861901422751339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title='I Miss You'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1282362593117729218</id><published>2010-07-17T00:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:39:52.511+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Your heart&apos;s so close to mine'/><title type='text'>I Adore You, You Are Awesomely Crazily Wonderfully Amazingly Beautiful And Special Yet Weird But Unique Individual</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TECGj1ch6BI/AAAAAAAAARA/CG27HhIK-Do/s1600/tumblr_l35huxqT9d1qafznio1_500%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 126px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494539495592290322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TECGj1ch6BI/AAAAAAAAARA/CG27HhIK-Do/s400/tumblr_l35huxqT9d1qafznio1_500%5B1%5D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/985601098703747682-1282362593117729218?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1282362593117729218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1282362593117729218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-adore-you-you-are-awesomely-crazily.html' title='I Adore You, You Are Awesomely Crazily Wonderfully Amazingly Beautiful And Special Yet Weird But Unique Individual'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TECGj1ch6BI/AAAAAAAAARA/CG27HhIK-Do/s72-c/tumblr_l35huxqT9d1qafznio1_500%5B1%5D.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1222198424706805307</id><published>2010-07-12T20:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:40:55.876+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Will there be a day ?'/><title type='text'>I Want To Be In The Place In Your Heart That You Can Never Let Go Of</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TDsEDtdaELI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/U6-mRz_hXI8/s1600/tumblr_kp9sqjy85O1qzvh12o1_400%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 115px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492988632297509042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TDsEDtdaELI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/U6-mRz_hXI8/s400/tumblr_kp9sqjy85O1qzvh12o1_400%5B1%5D.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/985601098703747682-1222198424706805307?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1222198424706805307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1222198424706805307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/07/you-never-realise-how-much-it-hurts-me.html' title='I Want To Be In The Place In Your Heart That You Can Never Let Go Of'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TDsEDtdaELI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/U6-mRz_hXI8/s72-c/tumblr_kp9sqjy85O1qzvh12o1_400%5B1%5D.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-775329766237086216</id><published>2010-06-12T23:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T20:43:20.495+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I wanna take you away'/><title type='text'>Significant People Who Made A Difference</title><content type='html'>Cause if one day you wake up and find that your missing me . And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be . Thinking maybe you'd come back here to the place that we'd meet . Then you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street . So I'm not moving , I'm not moving .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-775329766237086216?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/775329766237086216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/775329766237086216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/06/significant-people-who-made-defference.html' title='Significant People Who Made A Difference'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-1357320470845820332</id><published>2010-06-10T01:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T02:11:13.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fruity Pebbels (Y)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TA_YwKQEuHI/AAAAAAAAAP8/CEa_I7segR8/s1600/tumblr_kwqqaiktho1qzjpeko1_400[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480837593430276210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TA_YwKQEuHI/AAAAAAAAAP8/CEa_I7segR8/s320/tumblr_kwqqaiktho1qzjpeko1_400%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TA_XLSgNWEI/AAAAAAAAAP0/XJMclImrH3A/s1600/tumblr_l3f64abZ0Q1qzb7gjo1_500[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/985601098703747682-1357320470845820332?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1357320470845820332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/1357320470845820332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/06/fruity-pebbels-y.html' title='Fruity Pebbels (Y)'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TA_YwKQEuHI/AAAAAAAAAP8/CEa_I7segR8/s72-c/tumblr_kwqqaiktho1qzjpeko1_400%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985601098703747682.post-3956372170707161397</id><published>2010-05-30T20:13:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T18:46:22.301+08:00</updated><title type='text'>):</title><content type='html'>Am going to live without Jeanine for one month , its the longest time you're going to leave me . God , I'm so going to miss you like crazy . One month without you is definitely like living in hell . Though there will be no more kiss kiss , no more watching TV together , no more sleeping together , no more square face , no more chiwawa , no more of teasing you , no more of laughing @ you for all the silly stuffs you did , no more of everything . ): Fret not , i'll definitely leave many many texts for for you so when you get back your phone , it'll be full of my name . Heh ^^ Please take good care of yourself , drink plenty of water , have and ample rest , take your medicine / dinner on time &amp;amp; most importantly , DO NOT FALL SICK ! All The Best for your O'level MT Paper tmrw (L)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn , i actually made someone angry over the phone on the very last day i can have her by my side . I know you're hurt , a thousand of apologies . My dear girl is so mad that she dont even feel like answering my call despite me calling so many time . I guess you're still mad angry with . Argh , curse myself ! &lt;a href="mailto:!@#$%"&gt;!@#$%&lt;/a&gt;^&amp;amp;*()&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby Baby Baby ... ):&lt;br /&gt;I Love You &amp;amp; I'll Wait ^^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/985601098703747682-3956372170707161397?l=dimlightavenue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3956372170707161397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985601098703747682/posts/default/3956372170707161397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dimlightavenue.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post_30.html' title='):'/><author><name>Rolling Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04077408833546070074</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NeOQRzA_zVo/TKxYuTuOq5I/AAAAAAAAATs/xxhbt_4dsYQ/S220/0001053sAuL%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
