tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21922751043601657752024-03-06T11:55:16.766+08:00talesafinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-53923646454012802872012-05-11T18:15:00.000+08:002012-05-11T18:15:25.048+08:00Stop and stareWe face liars everyday. The good ones, the bad ones, the labelled ones, even the ones you thought were never capable of doing such things. But you know what's the worst lie to face? The lie you had to hear when you already know the truth, the lie that came out from the ones you love. People would say, leave him if you're not happy, leave him if he treats you that way. Leave him. For what? So he would think that he could get away and go breaking other people's heart? Sometimes people forget that a bruised heart hurts more than being attacked by a thousand arrows. No don't leave him, because you know you can't. Because you secretly wish he would change, because you keep hoping that one day he will love you as a whole. The future never told. You don't care really about his dishonest act, you just wanted for him to spell it out.<br />
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There's never a relationship without cheating, there's never a relationship without lies, but if you love it, and if it is worth it, stop it, before you lose the most beautiful relationship you could ever have.</div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-42391320248804162532010-10-05T00:51:00.003+08:002010-10-05T01:09:17.013+08:00real dreamsI was on my way back from Abby's when something struck my mind. Okay, fine the intro is cliche. But now I realise that someway somehow, I am in a place where I never thought I will be 5 years ago. Well, honestly, I did daydream about it, and when I daydream, I usually become obsessed with them that I would stallk the little details to make them come true. It's just that I never thought thay'd really come true since you know, being <span style="font-style: italic;">a kid</span>, people always say stuff like, "angan-angan je tu" and stuff like, " it's all in your head, you know you're not gonna be like that" and more oftenly stuff like, " ah you, teruskan je la mimpi you tu.... tak ke mane pun". Yeah so you kinda digest it until your brain interprets every dream to be repulsive, surreal, aint-never-gonna-happen-lady kind of thing. Make it short, they tell you dream=not gonna happen. Or maybe they always thought that mine was so out of the league it would never have happened. Im not here to brag, I've had enough of that and it's not longer fun, but I guess I owe it to myself to say, " hey look at you, you've climbed step by step and you grab your stars one by one, and they say stars are impossible to reach, but you prove people otherwise, but guess what, even if you reach the top, they would still say you're a dreamer because they can't accept that they didn't follow their dream and you did, and you succeeded. Maybe you haven't have it all just yet, because it's no fun to eat candies and drink milkshakes at the same time but you'll get one by one and maybe one day all of them if you keep on flying, keep on trying and as long as you don't decide to bury your dreams and keep them in a box just so you could tell your grandchildren the i-once-had-this-dream stuff, they'll eventually turn to be reality". After all real dreams are made of effort and the chance taken.afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-49927428685846106902010-08-27T14:23:00.002+08:002010-08-27T14:31:21.074+08:00me<span style="font-size:85%;">In another version of life, I am a nocturnal who lives in the city apartment which has big glasses soaring sevent feet tall overseeing the city nightline, on the other side, the beach. And my bedsheets they smell like milk, like babies and lavenders. On my sofa is the remote control for everything, and where I lay I can see the world from above, glancing down at the party people.. Not that I want to join, I'm good here in my confined space. In my other life, I have my tall guy too, the very same one I have in this version of life with and addition of my fluffy kittens. My other version of life, lives in my head. </span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-69776664577256144382010-08-02T21:07:00.009+08:002010-08-02T21:20:55.531+08:00Life<span style="font-size:85%;">Life : <span style="font-weight: bold;">Is when you fail and get up again.</span><br />Life : <span style="font-weight: bold;">Is when you make mistakes and admit to them.</span><br />Life : <span style="font-weight: bold;">Is when you feel pain as much as you feel joy.</span><br />Life :<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Is making up to the mistakes you've done.</span><br />Life :<span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Is when you sacrifice, and change for the benefits of not only yourself, but others too.</span></span><br />Life : <span style="font-weight: bold;">Is when you forgive and take on the bright side</span><br />Life : <span style="font-weight: bold;">Is to devote to god and to work hard for life and love</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Well, every corner of my life seems to experience that. But ofcourse, I'm not saying I've seen the best of life because I am still purely, just living. In the process to understand life. What concerns me yesterday was how I need to work hard and succeed at everything for my Mom. What concerns me today is tomorow's advertising class. In which I already missed 2 classes, and therefore, the risk of getting a "fail" is there. But I won't make any excuse, It was me and me alone, and I accept that, and the consequence thatcome with it. Well hey, I could learn again and most importantly, not repeat my mistakes. And yes, I have rage. For this and that, if things don't go my way I could bet I'd go throw tantrums. That has to change. I've decided to try best as possible to let go of my anger, to overcome these negative feelings. I really hope, dear god, that you carry me through this life with guidance, and a chance to repent and get back on my knees again, with brave heart.</span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-63944289266076173372010-07-27T18:46:00.003+08:002012-05-03T15:05:43.379+08:00reincarnationYesterday I learn: people can't deal with the whole truth all at once, which is why the Quran is brought down one at a time.<br />
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True enough, and we often realise how many mistakes we've done until we lost something. True too.<br />
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Both of the above statement is me. I learn if we change for people, we're in for a self-destruction. It eats us from within and than it eats everything else around the destructed. It eats life. I've seen this happening to myself. It eats those I love most, everything from entity, masses and dreams. I've tried so hard to become everything people want me to be, I forgot what I wanted to be.<br />
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I guess now only I am ready to change myself. Well I am little bit late, but it was the wake up call I needed. I can't change the past, even if I churn my intestine and heart. But I can mould my future to be a better one. I can't tell people I've changed and what part of me changed. I can only show. So look out world, Im reincarnating, here's a better version of me.<br />
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I never will forget though everything that got me this far, my body is full of the tattoos I made. All of them good, the last one bad, but I like it though, sometimes we need it to feel human. But my skin is stretching still, and as time grows I'll have more to tattoos, I wish one day a new artist will be available to mark a fresh new tattoo down on me, with new inks.<br />
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p/s: should've gone to see Slash.afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-45906106879587866212010-05-31T22:19:00.004+08:002010-05-31T22:26:17.524+08:00Fire!<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><object width="450" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0kTnyP33fbM&hl=en_GB&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0kTnyP33fbM&hl=en_GB&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="450" height="280"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">You can't say Bruce Springsteen didn't once made you melt. At an age like this, he sure still has it.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fire</span> - one of my favourite of his :)<br /></span></span></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-71749649031244772532010-05-14T21:05:00.002+08:002010-05-14T21:20:24.370+08:00As I grow<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I've come to discover that when I was little I sulk a lot. Like really a lot, I sulk whenever things don't go my way, and I cry at the littlest pain, yeah and people could drown in my tears if I were to feel pains - with the s, plural form, as in saying many.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Now that i've reach </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;">adulthood</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> (while saying this, please note that i'm still in doubt if I'm fit enough to be called an adult), point is, now I can cry at almost everything, I mean, small pain don't and won't cost me tears, I almost just get over it, or as hard as I try to force, my tears just won't budge out. But I could cry at watching movies, reading stories, and of course, when I feel like I've failed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">My tears flow while I was watching My Name is Khan, well because, it's touchy enough to see how the Muslims withstand hatred from people around after the event of 9/11. I cried at watching Adamaya, because it's touchy too see a wife begging for forgiveness from his husband. Then i cried at watching Lovely Bones because, i was raged at the heartless killer. Point is, I guess, as I grew it's easier for me to imagine myself in such situations, it's easier for me to relate to people even.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">I mean as I grew, I realise more than ever that I can't be selfish. Whatever suffering I go through, obstacles I need to overtake, whatever hurricane and storm I need to withstand, I am never alone, infact there might be someone out there facing worse. I learnt that at times we need to follow our heart, but sometimes emotions kill. And that's when the brain takes over. I've realised too, emotions could swallow us deep into a sinkhole, but wisdom could only tell us how to live.</span></span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-42305949376366130192010-04-29T23:49:00.004+08:002010-04-30T00:15:46.072+08:00Joyride disaster<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I read about the fifteen year old boy who was shot to death by a policeman. The first I heard about the story was the night I cam home late. The first thing my dad told me, after I shook his hand. That was when I had my questions answered. All the way back I was thinking, why are my parents being overworried tonight. Because a schoolboy was shot by the one we thought were to protect us. I have met good policemen, but it's sad to learn that this one policeman had to spoil all the good works of all the policemen in Malaysia. Im sorry, but that's how the people sees it. They want justice, because every criminal gets a trial, even worst criminals get trials, and they will not have death sentence until fully investigated. But Aminulrasyid never got the trial he deserved. I joined every group supporting him on facebook. Some how what happened to him stroke me hard. Maybe because my brother used to know him, maybe because my brother was the same age of him, maybe because I know what it feels like when you're involved in an accident, how scared you are, and how the only thing on your mind was getting home as soon as possible, eventhough in my case, I was the one who got hit by another car, but Icouldn't imagine how scared I was at that time, and I have my license and I am nineteen. So I would imagine a fifteen year old would have every reason in the wolrd to be scared.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I browsed to his photos, posted by his school friends, and I shed tears. I actually cried. We used to hear parents say, "If you're in trouble find the nearest police station, or find a policeman". This past two days though, I've heard a lot of friends saying the advice they received from their parents, "If you collide with a policeman, be careful". Now it's upside down. I do believe policemen are good. I've collided with these good men. But somehow, the one who shot the kid, he needs to be look at. I mean, he is the reason why everyone is so mad at policemen in general.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I think deep down, people are all just scared. Because they gave their lives and trust to the policemen. I believe the school kid too, gave his life and trust, his life was robbed with a gunshot, a gunshot by A POLICEMAN. When all the A-listed criminals enjoy life, he got shot. The school boy, like most teenagers would experience, is just being a teenager, anxious in life, taking a joyride with friends, tell me how bad is that? It's only a normal teenager. Sneaking out behind parent's back. But he got shot. No trials, no defense, just a gunshot.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I think what I'm trying to say is, not all policemen are bad, some of them are really dedicated and fair. It's just the one who fired the shot to a kid in a housing area. Since we can never hear the boy's side of the story, let's clean his name. Don't make up storries about him. Be fair<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs531.snc3/30182_1308217258253_1015222415_30744209_5805942_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 391px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs531.snc3/30182_1308217258253_1015222415_30744209_5805942_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">My brother told me he was famous in school because of this green sneakers. He was an active school boy. Somehow in my heart, I think if you were given the chance, you will do great things kid. Maybe god took you to save you from the world's evil.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >Al-fatihah</span></span><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-48144323382673719972010-04-22T22:05:00.003+08:002010-04-22T22:19:10.273+08:00Surprise surprise<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Right when I didn't expect to, caught up in weariness,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">the tiresome the world created, I found you.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">In the middle of tons of the urban's wilderness,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">In between traffic lights, and soaring concretes,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">I caught you at glimpse, yet you trance so gracefully,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">You ushered me forward to the dreams I'm keen chasing,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">And then a smile rushed and completed my entity.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">It's your glaring eyes, with diamond-like sparkles,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">It's your swift walks, how you serenade the wind,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">It's your body and soul manouvering like ying-yang,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">It's how you make it easy and brief, </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">and how you make my young veins pump ecstatically. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">If I were to decide, you won't ever leave my sight.</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br /><br />Dear Audi TT, you made me smile in the hectic evening traffic, why do i have to see you in Subang Jaya? I will own you one day.</span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-3370312978400218052010-04-09T12:01:00.002+08:002010-04-09T12:25:28.245+08:00Im not wishing<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" >Yes, Im not wishing. These are just the list of things I want, and I aimed to get before I turn 30, which means I have a ten years duration.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.explorer-guitars.com/images/epiphone-futura.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 250px;" src="http://www.explorer-guitars.com/images/epiphone-futura.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:78%;" >Epiphone Futura, one of the explorers I obsessed on. Still want to have the jackson explorer signature series, and the PRS 25th anniversary Santana in purple.</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.autofree.gr/photos/merc_sls_amg1_b.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 426px; height: 284px;" src="http://www.autofree.gr/photos/merc_sls_amg1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:78%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3620/3637491187_0b99323183.jpg"><br /></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:78%;" >This is the mercedes SLS AMG. I want it so bad. I need to have a mercedes. I've been obsessing over it since I was a little girl.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kpoccobep.su/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/mercedes-benz-r-class_01.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 379px; height: 284px;" src="http://kpoccobep.su/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/mercedes-benz-r-class_01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:78%;" >And this is the Mercedes R-class. I want it to be my band's official ride.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" >I may sound absurd and far-off lost in fairy land to you, but I really will make sure I work hard enough to own and deserve these beauties.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Because someone told me yesterday, to just give it all out and to believe, and to act like a winner to be one.</span> That's exactly what I'm going to do :)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Then you wouldn't call me a dreamer.</span><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-80514171343757878362010-04-07T22:33:00.002+08:002010-04-07T22:52:44.821+08:00bag of brags<span style="font-size:85%;">I think the week has been good to me. Incase, and I know, you would hate to hear brags, well here's the thing, this is an entry full of bags of brags. Now that I've warn, do not send me hatemail if you think I'm being such a narcissist.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Come on, I think I deserve to brag. Shewolves sold out their first few copies in two days, and I made a hundred percent profit at my ice-cream booth, and I bought something fun at the pharmacy, and I scored highest in my class test, well, one of the class. And.... and.. and there's a lot of good happenings lately. But the proudest, would have to be the marks I got. Don't blame me, I was raised in a family where those percentage means a lot, it did got me well though, not that I am complaining.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Oh and did I tell you I got my full license? No more P's for me (wide smile).</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Yeah, and with all the good news I heard of something unfortunate that happened to a friend of mine yesterday.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">She got snatched, infront of her teacher's house, well, not infront, in the house premise, She entered the gate, and the thief had a knife. Gosh, I really am glad she's okay. But take a look at this, she was snatched in a house premise. So what now? Your own yard isn't save? And not to mention the alarm was on immediately after she was attacked, but then what? I think securities should be doubled in secluded areas, lights should be installed so if ever it came to worst, atleast it's light enough to see the face of the culprit. Or maybe, they could put up a special force, ones who would react to alarms in the housing area. We need more creative idea to be safe. The bad guys are always creative, they're smart enough to figure out a way at least. I think we should figure out a way for safer place, something out of the box, something we've never thought of. </span><br /><br />Come on, what are they thinking? You would risk killing a life for money? How do you live with that? Seriously.</span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-47351606982506114442010-04-01T15:20:00.004+08:002010-04-01T15:48:44.371+08:00Disasterous<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">If life isn't crazy enough, or just incase you're wondering how bad your day went, take a look at mine. While I was rushing (to some unforseen circumstances, and of which my brain failed to search the reason why) bare in mind that I was driving, and attached to this sexy mercedes, and....<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">BAM! I hit a car, I HIT THAT RED CAR INFRONT OF ME!!!</span></span> There goes my free-of-hitting-people pass. So yeah, no more car for me, yet again. The best part is, I was sipping on lime </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >sirap</span><span style="font-family:arial;">, one Que gave me for sending her, and ow yeah, because I was so unlucky, somehow, the straw hit my tongue hard, and you can guess, the sting is still here up to this very last letter I'm typing. Not to sound stupid, but I thought straws were harmless. Don't you think I deserve a day of peace? Well I think I do. Yeah people, mom came to fetch me, and I think I startled so hard I could almost pee in my pants. How could I be so ignorant? All for a mercedes? That's not even mine? No more mercedes peeking for me.</span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Yeah well, I did forgot to mention something else,<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >(none of what was written is true, I got home safely, no hitting, and definitely not giving up on mercedes)</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2081/2646176786_cdb4ef698f.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 172px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2081/2646176786_cdb4ef698f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-46491609830042885142010-03-29T22:14:00.002+08:002010-03-29T22:35:05.125+08:00Enchanted<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" >Who needs the world when I have you<br />Everything revolves, while everything's on pause<br />Everything surrounds, everything ignite sparks<br />Everything evolves, yet nothing ever changes<br /><br />Even the ferocious beast rest its desire to kill<br />Even the eye of a wolf lays docile and warm<br />Even in sullen I found solace<br />And all predicaments gets erased<br /><br />Everything stands tall, everything flows<br />Everything chirps, and howl and chimes<br />Everything muddle, yet creating serene<br />Even a roar sounds perfectly fit<br /><br />I ain't no poet, not trying to sound sweet<br />It's only rapture embracing, enchantment, enchanted.</span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-91490995645926943262010-03-24T13:26:00.004+08:002010-03-24T13:39:47.181+08:00Moon Child<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:arial;" >Finally, </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Shewolves</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:arial;" > has a demo and we've uploaded it on myspace.</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">For those of you who have never heard of us, Shewolves is a female dominated heavy metal band from Malaysia, and I really mean female dominated, the only way we're performing with a guy on stage is when one of our she wolf had an emergency. Most likely you would see us heavily influenced by other legendary female bands such as Girlschool, Vixen, and list of others. We're also heavily sedated under the sound of Motorhead and Kiss. Some of the songs we've performed includes those from the listed bands, Megadeth, Shima and the boys, and The Runaways. Check us out here for videos and our own songs:</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.myspace.com/shewolves5">www.myspace.com/shewolves5</a></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaZcU0qdKN1w-1aRhv_W0z-Cs0Uyksjrj3Z0B3sJVY10lc2uJFzzKSzTRQm-qmtRqiJ38Lwq8hv_e9t-qWxgroYGjy0O9PmjU1pZjiJ0ivSK9I0484J4LTN6vazFpst-8WjcXMDAghSp9/s1600/cover3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaZcU0qdKN1w-1aRhv_W0z-Cs0Uyksjrj3Z0B3sJVY10lc2uJFzzKSzTRQm-qmtRqiJ38Lwq8hv_e9t-qWxgroYGjy0O9PmjU1pZjiJ0ivSK9I0484J4LTN6vazFpst-8WjcXMDAghSp9/s320/cover3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452069659812482386" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" ><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Beware what stalks you in the night, Beware the Shewolves and her bites</span></span><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-20095097095114328052010-03-23T14:15:00.004+08:002010-03-23T14:43:39.618+08:00necessities<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It's almost rare that you see girls going out without nothing in their palms. Almost always, they'd have a handbag of handful things, that some would say (usually guys) "why can't you leave those stuff at home? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Trust us, we tried, and failed.</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Whatever's in our bag is a super life saver, without it, we could get asthma attack</span>. Well, here is, out of randomness, the list of stuffs girls would usually have in their bag, and in case you're still wondering why, here's a very logic explanation to go with it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold;">number one</span>.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">tissue</span></span>. Well it's rare that I have it but my bandmate Abby always has it. Come on, we need tissues all the time. I'd usually have it in my car. Proof: my dearie claimed for tissue yesterday to wipe of his eyeliners after photoshoot. IMAGINE if there were none, you'd be wiping of shirts and skins. Very very acceptable to have tissues in bags.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold;">number two</span>.<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> eyeliners and lip balms</span></span>. OBVIOUS REASON: Look at the weather now. You need lip balms to avoid cracks, and oh well, it's just necessary for me to have eyeliners to avoid raccoon eyes. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">number three.</span> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">hairclips</span></span>. I should be appreciated for carrying this mini item with me. You need it every meal, because<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> I won't want my hair in my mouth, I want the food in my mouth</span>. And I hereby declare, proudly, that he would almost always ask for hair clips too. So I'm not the sole to blame. I rest my case.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">number four</span>. <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Safety pins</span></span>. You never know when you need it. In my case, I always need it before gigs, to pin bits of clothes over here and there. And come on, safety pins are weightless.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">number five</span>. <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">paper chunks</span></span>. That is never our fault. We love keeping stuff. I mean, who knows right? If you suddenly need to jot down things, Well you could use the eyeliner to write on the paper, instead of hands. I know, alright, there's technology, use the phone. But I notice it's almost all the time, when you're on the phone and someone tells you something important and you need to write it down, you'll go, <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">"someone please take this down".</span> What if there is no someone? Paper chunks it is.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">number six</span>. <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">bottles of toiletries and stuffs</span></span>. Some would bring perfumes, some lotions, hair serum. These are handful stuff. We could wear them at home, and leave the bottles there. But it's always better to bring some, and I mean<span style="font-style: italic;"> some</span> stuff.<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> Like lotions. Crucial needs</span>. And sometimes we love promoting to friends. <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">We're just being nice.</span> Right girls?</span></span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-13178946367389031872010-03-20T21:39:00.003+08:002010-03-20T22:13:18.338+08:00night lights<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.preparty.com/images/venues/slideshows/0/f96f9c8e-85cf-4f9e-b313-49dc61.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 359px; height: 359px;" src="http://www.preparty.com/images/venues/slideshows/0/f96f9c8e-85cf-4f9e-b313-49dc61.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" ><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">If there is anyway to ease, I'd find myself a pair of wings.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Fly myself to see the city skyline.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Indulging the night lights and fireflies.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Watch how busy they are on their two feets,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">in the night markets and the seaside</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Edging tall buildings,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">of which in may lay a story of another.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Then after I would fly myself,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">to a red brick building, to the very top</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Where as I child I used to play,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">behind the bushes and the ladybugs,And I would lay my back on the grass,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">and take a deep breath of the after rain,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Let it down my throat, let the brain interprets,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Put my coat on and walk the pavement.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Feel the bits and pieces in my very sole.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Go along with my feet's own desire.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Until it wears out, and takes themselves to a comfy cushion.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Behind the fire place, behind lines of glass.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Watching the skyline, from far, from my eyes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">From home, from the light's embrace.</span><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6I9lJflI__VWLDv2sWQUBX0UZ3_Rp4qW-4XVedD4dlsIPIWrkuvkKvOkp8_STkGoifO0iWyv7vcKpj1Ntp7-wSX8-lnKlhMH1ShQXCRJ-nfHRrsEbdecapxvbDlFebZp0mR0g3Y_yjae/s1600-h/_MG_0321.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6I9lJflI__VWLDv2sWQUBX0UZ3_Rp4qW-4XVedD4dlsIPIWrkuvkKvOkp8_STkGoifO0iWyv7vcKpj1Ntp7-wSX8-lnKlhMH1ShQXCRJ-nfHRrsEbdecapxvbDlFebZp0mR0g3Y_yjae/s320/_MG_0321.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450718785625196146" border="0" /></a></span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-61144083290863418112010-03-10T20:21:00.004+08:002010-03-10T20:36:28.701+08:00Mauve machines<div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Because I had done all my works last week, I have lots of free time this week. So I decided to browse on my dream cars. Well ofcourse, <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Caddy</span> would always, forever be part of it. But here are just the new additions.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://carphotos.cardomain.com/ride_images/2/3319/4101/20797050055_medium.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 346px; height: 236px;" src="http://carphotos.cardomain.com/ride_images/2/3319/4101/20797050055_medium.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images5.fotki.com/v84/photos/2/282664/1018744/SoCalvsNoCalApril1004035vi-vi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 352px; height: 262px;" src="http://images5.fotki.com/v84/photos/2/282664/1018744/SoCalvsNoCalApril1004035vi-vi.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.audiblog.nl/wp-content/audi-s5-exclusive-purple.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 213px;" src="http://www.audiblog.nl/wp-content/audi-s5-exclusive-purple.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Audi TT</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">.</span> Alright fine, I have whino to thank. He introduced to me this car. I discovered purple :)</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Well, but he's seen it on the road. And I haven't. Why him? Why not me ? I'm the super freak purple loverT_T Probably because I might get too excited I would hit the car, or stalk it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">And this is the most recent addition.</span><br /><a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lotuseliseblog.com/images/lotus-photos/purple_elise.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 199px;" src="http://lotuseliseblog.com/images/lotus-photos/purple_elise.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Lotus</span>.</span></span><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-73827862702021279152010-03-06T01:25:00.002+08:002012-06-14T16:19:30.115+08:00Of a week<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #330033; font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This week is like compressed gas in the smallest tank you could ever imagine, placed in the highest temperature possible. This week is explosive suicide. This week is everyday assignments, meaning, clipped eyes on the laptop, googling and yahoo-ing researches and copying sources, eccetera. Group meetings, classes, which is non-avoidable. Fine, maybe I could, but informations are crucial here. Then there's renewing my license, which brought me to waking up at 0730 with maximum 5hours of sleep, mark that down, <span style="font-weight: bold;">MAXIMUM</span>. Usually it's less, considering I always take time constructing dreams and rummaging my mp3 lists. Then there's guitar practice, which I try to squeeze in everyday and band practice which is also a wee-bit above danger line. Since my foxy drummer had to work, we had to train a new one to replace her on this Sunday's gig and I missed yesterday's practice because my license's dead and I was dead, energetically.Is that a word? Well but everything better than nice requires hard work right? So I'm gonna go for it. </span></span></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-51333063603815526312010-02-26T23:15:00.003+08:002010-02-26T23:38:34.591+08:00Blanked<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Temptation to write, clean cut to the core</span>. Which is clearly what this thing is about. But on what, never figured. Things happen, but putting every thing into words is a task I think I want to do with enthusiast. And the only thing I'd say now is that there's a jolt of pain in the back of my head. No, not pain, feels like the skin's been plastered, tampered with million of tiny glasses, residing as if my skin's a cosy little cottage. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">By doing this too I realise that to write, music influence me. Literally. Whatever I listen to sets the mood. Eerie tracks for goosebump paragraphs, although really, scary isn't me. Never really will it be. And it's bad enough that depressant tracks pulls me in deeper. Like more words pop out everytime a track like such is played. If it's drug, than barbiturates would have set me in the mood. <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Please let me make it clear, I am never attracted to pills, liquid, anything of similar sort.</span> Go on snort infront of me, get high, cut loose, I would still sit there in my corner heavily sedated in my own self-enhanced world. Seriously, drugs just aren't seductive to me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">It's as if I feed on dead tracks to keep me pumping, and I dont mean goth. I just mean pumping in every way. Good. Bad, every feeling possible. Love perhaps. Definitely do have different songs for that kind of feeling. Oh well.</span></span> <span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" >I guess different songs do produce different vibes.</span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-43660214134398667362010-02-16T14:52:00.003+08:002010-02-16T15:22:33.021+08:00seven sins<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Slept late. Just for the sake of passing daylight. For the ability to get squeezed in the comfort of cushions. Getting immersed in sloth, toiled in lust, indulging greed. And who would thought a combination of those deadly sins would ever be such a treat. It always has been. Only humanity chose hypocrisy, to make them sound holy. Admitting that we are at times just one of those gluttonous beast is horrific enough. But just for the day, letting oneself to be consumed by such event is good. <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">And who would have thought, a lifeless soul could do great deeds</span>. They never gave the chance. Because someone from down below can never be given a high gratitude. So why bother making it? Because having pride feels good, and pride don't lose. And the only worse feeling to ever occur through the journey is envy, one that makes a restless night, one that holds evil in it's palm<span style="font-family: arial;">.</span> One that creates a wrath master.</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But just for the day, just for the day, <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">admitting that we somehow like those guilty pleasures feels good.</span><br />makes us aware that we are just human. Mere humans.</span></span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-17266662939958756802010-02-14T20:34:00.005+08:002010-02-14T21:14:21.602+08:00Hand in Hand<span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >These are a few of my favourite video that shows union of love and binding powers in lending helps through voices and talents. These are a few videos that shows well-known people cooperating to spread good messages. This is love at work.</span><br /><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jzw6GiqZyD0&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jzw6GiqZyD0&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-size:85%;" >USA for AFRICA</span><br /><br /></div><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ca46h2NExQU&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ca46h2NExQU&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"><span style="font-size:85%;">An attempt in showing how Malaysian are one</span><br /></div><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gNbAnX9SJrw&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gNbAnX9SJrw&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Made by Malaysian Artists for Unity. I think the organization itself tells of how Malaysian should never discriminate races, languages and skin colour.</span><br /></span></div><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oVS4T_ck7GY&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oVS4T_ck7GY&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Shou Qian Shou or hand in hand when translated were sang by Taiwanese artists during the SARS breakout.</span><br /></div><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Glny4jSciVI&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Glny4jSciVI&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"><span style="font-size:85%;">we are the world<br />this time this song is dedicated specially for Haiti.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >I wish to be part of this kind of work some day.</span></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-19882196054403538522010-02-07T21:03:00.003+08:002010-02-07T21:57:45.277+08:00When I was little<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little I used to own a teddy</span>, and he was green. Knowing that I grow up into liking purple, <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">I am no longer in talking terms with teddy</span>. I think he's been laid in the toy dumpster along with fluffy kitty (one that I remembered colouring the inside of it's ears with red markers) my baby doll that literally looks like a toddler but no blinking eyes (blinking eyes are pure evil, they're created to give little ones... and adults nightmares) and together with the rest of my brother's semi-detached, multi-sized, PVC lorries.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little I believe unicorns exists, fairies are real and they do make wonders, and ponies have colourful bodies and graceful trots</span>. As my body and mind took it's toll of reaching teenage-hood, I found out they were all bogus. But as sly as it sounds, I still like the imaginary fairies and ponies.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little I thought the clouds were cotton candy, and that Hercules and Zeus lived there and dreamt I'd build a tiny cottage up on one of those fluffy clouds</span>. And now that I attended science class, I learn that clouds are just cumulation of water droplets. It's my first disappointment in life before the many that came after it.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little I always drink out of a bicker and sleep with my stinky bolster</span>. I drink normal now, on a side-handled mug, or glass, or any kind of inventions <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">meant</span> for adults</span>. However, my stinky bolster goes to sleep with me almost every night, and as horrid as it may sound, im not ashamed of it? gosh, i sound super creepy now.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little, I sulk a lot, and get grumpy when things don't go my way.</span> Now that I'm grown up I still like things to go my way, but I've learned to comprehend with people and surrounding, and to manipulate every sadistic event to be good. I've actually learned to see the very little silver lining in every stormy weather.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little I wanted to be like Spice Girls. I was head over heals for Hanson and The Moffats, which is just another portrayal of my preferences towards long-haired guys.</span> Now that Im 20, I have an addiction for heavy metal, I even play in an all girls band by the name of Shewolves, and <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">if you've seen me around, you'd probably notice that my preferences hasn't completely change at all, a little wilder maybe.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When I was little I wished I was 20 fast so that I could wear fancy clothes, drive, maybe get involve in some romance and do whatever I want without anyone older having the authority to say no and struggle so hard every time they carry me like a little cat while I was on my tantrums</span>. Now that I am all the things I wished when I was little, I somehow wish I could be little again because having no one to tell you what to do sometimes makes you lost, and having so many options are petty and that the severe damage of making a mistake is on me and my own shoulder. Being an adult is good, but being little is a bliss.<br /><br />And as far as I could reflect, I'd still say being little and rebellious without nobody taking it as a serious offense is really good, but hey, we could only grow, and sugar-coats deteriorate. Well anyway, here's something from my childhood memory:<br /></span><br /><center><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NHozn0YXAeE&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NHozn0YXAeE&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">don't tell me they don't bring back your childhood memories too ;P</span></center>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-34791497502897036612010-02-02T23:03:00.003+08:002010-02-03T00:13:11.256+08:00nonsensical beau<span style="font-size:85%;">There are no rules in love. There's no exact reason in being so too. The only thing I'm only capable of explaining is,</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;" >that I'm not and can't be opaque to you</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">that you're my kryptonite</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;" >that when times feels like it's absurd, there's always sense in you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And when sense lost it's way, there's always rays in you eyes,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;" >that projects the chained words in you heart chambers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">That when silence approach, miracles preach,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;" >in the most ridiculous way, yet a homicide for loath.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">that when there are no good reasons at all,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:arial;" >there's always space for the beast to transform to beauty.</span></span><br /><br />nonsensical <br /><span style="font-size:78%;">is norm. </span><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-58833664942058887242010-01-20T19:05:00.004+08:002010-01-20T19:49:27.153+08:00Strut it<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">The way people dress is never really a big deal. As long as they dress appropriately. Ofcourse it would be weird if you wear bikinis to college. <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">NOW THAT IS WEIRD</span>. If it's only peop</span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">le who happens to be strutting styles different than you but nevertheless still applicable for public institutions, <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">than that is life</span>. Plus college says it's okay as long as it's within the rules. Sandals, boots, sneakers they're all shoes. Dress, torn jeans, studded belts, skirts, vest, thery're all clothing. and they are accepted in all places. Well, unless it highlights there it don't. Red lipsticks, dramatic eyeshadow, cherry blushers they're all make ups and <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">college never say make up is prohibited.</span> If you want to look like a drag queen so be it, it really is your choice. Plus, being a student in my college for two years now, I am totally aware that <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">the way we dress are diverse</span>, and the students make the college looks like a game of fashion. It really is that way and it looks good that way, brings out the life. So seriously, <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">comparing high school and college is a big no-no</span>. Who does that? Ofcourse it's a big difference. If you want it to be the same, opt for STPM. It's a better option if you love criticizin</span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">g people so much. Hay-down, sooner you'd still have to face the fact that <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">individuals are plain different and unique.</span> The way they dress more or less tells a story of themselves. It's not the public's fault if you're life's a bore despite being rich. Wait, most private college students, do come from rich families. So there. Criticizing people's way of defining themselves will never make you look more civilized or smarter. Seriously, those crazy smart people with brains the size of tank, don't care about how they look. So why criticize? I</span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">t does make you look cool...if you're a fashion police who has be</span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">en in the industry several years. Since you're not,</span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">stop judging and star</span></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">t accepting.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACWaC5hfh9fGYgP53jNI6Qar3OqNClHSewqurpQ0442ZNu7p033wPfgC4DR0S8A8DK_VJO-uYc3J81kyTJX9aPhoZZ5D9WKHuQ_X5UCbedo7cEClHT0vp4ajzAm8RRWjtI34Ckc0IykQ6/s1600-h/Image0412.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACWaC5hfh9fGYgP53jNI6Qar3OqNClHSewqurpQ0442ZNu7p033wPfgC4DR0S8A8DK_VJO-uYc3J81kyTJX9aPhoZZ5D9WKHuQ_X5UCbedo7cEClHT0vp4ajzAm8RRWjtI34Ckc0IykQ6/s200/Image0412.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428787432671779746" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:78%;" >I am a normal college scene</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >Welcome to college ex-highschool-er.</span></span></span><br /><br /></div>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2192275104360165775.post-43409151266688695922010-01-19T22:01:00.008+08:002010-01-19T22:40:44.365+08:00Turndown<span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">I am pretty much excited on doing everything. Yes, I have set my </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:arial;" >goal that high</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> and my </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:arial;" >energy at maximum storage</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> and my </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:arial;" >spirit, they are soaring</span><span style="font-family:arial;">. Last evening, I was practically counting seconds to reach home after college. First on mind, </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >guitar</span><span style="font-family:arial;">. I wanted to practice so bad on my scales and getting it improved.So got everything settled, plugged in and went to hit the lights. </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:arial;" >Lights-out, dead fluorescent</span><span style="font-family:arial;">. Perfect timing. Yes I depended on mom's table lamp which gives the worst headache. Then decided it's annoying enough and went for my photo assignments. Searching photos on the internet- I had fun, going through pictures of bands and </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >everything I can relate to heavy metal, music</span><span style="font-family:arial;">. Today, decided to give a head start on mass comm assignment, magazine articles. Went to Revolver, only to realise there's lots of interviews, but none suitable enough to summarize and make use in my assignments. So guess I'd have to hit the bookstores tomorrow, or maybe just rummage through my pile of old magazines. So much for wanting a head start. As lot articles as there is, I still stand by my tight jeans and torn shirts which says, "</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Im a heavy metal head</span><span style="font-family:arial;">". And so my assignments would represent them as much possible :)My photo assignment is going, on limitations. My camera is between basic and advanced it just don't have both the basic features and the advanced one that I need to complete them. Also need to borrow a DSLR for another assignment. </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Talk about time management, they just won't let me</span><span style="font-family:arial;">.</span> </span>afinataleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17062217495447019998noreply@blogger.com0