<?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-7845738837693422969</id><updated>2011-12-13T21:59:07.698-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight Queen</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-5761444499041046458</id><published>2011-12-13T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T21:59:07.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%; color: rgb(153, 153, 255); "&gt;HOLEY MO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255); font-size: 29px; "&gt;LEY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 29px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;HSC RESULTS CAME OUT TODAY ! Wow.. after a month of relaxing freedom, I find myself suddenly jolted back to the evil Board of Studies website that I vowed never to return to. Hmm what can I say, my marks were ok.. I think I'm going to be able to get into the course that I'm planning on taking (hopefully). Shockingly enough, I GOT A STATE RANKING ! I was literally over the moon. Best feeling ever; when something happens when you least expect them to. However, it is tomorrow that will truly determine my Future: The arrival of my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;ATAR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; !!!! I can't do anything about that now so I guess I just have to sit back, relax, and brace myself.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, apart from all this HSC madness (which I hope will be over very soon), I'm down the South coast at my cousins' place, chillin' around. It's good to see all of them again and just catch up. I've been baking and helping with the garden and that's taking up a lot of my time. This is such a beautiful place and it has helped to give me a clearer mind which enabled me to make a few decisions in the past few days :) Nothing very dramatic though hahah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since my last post, I've been going out with friends basically every single day of the week. Thus, I am now broke. And I still have to buy presents for people. Shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got invited to burn all my HSC notes at a friend's place. It was the best night ever. When I saw my maths book burning in the fire, I felt a calming sense of closure that told me high school was finally over. Also that night, many crazy/dirty/wtf stories about schoolies were revealed. Some were hilarious, some were unbelievable. I thoroughly enjoyed the juicy gossip though ;) I will now never see certain people the same way I used to see them. Phwwweeewwww. I didn't contribute to the conversation since I did not go to schoolies. What an angel, huh ? ;p&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hxN1Xg3nXBw/Tug6OUVg2aI/AAAAAAAAAQE/r5SufMSns3s/s320/IMG_1762.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685858547206773154" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npjyD-z1JDI/Tug6Oq3subI/AAAAAAAAAQM/2GXpGdExym0/s320/IMG_1783.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685858553255737778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LIdiJiv8AwE/Tug6O5k4OZI/AAAAAAAAAQc/B4jFDZZbmFg/s320/IMG_1789.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685858557203331474" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/7845738837693422969-5761444499041046458?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/5761444499041046458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=5761444499041046458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/5761444499041046458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/5761444499041046458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2011/12/holey-mo-ley-hsc-results-came-out-today.html' title=''/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hxN1Xg3nXBw/Tug6OUVg2aI/AAAAAAAAAQE/r5SufMSns3s/s72-c/IMG_1762.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-2533172977579089921</id><published>2011-11-27T02:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T02:33:55.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I kept my promise.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Wow.&lt;/span&gt; I surprise myself by managing to sign back onto Blogger for another update. This either means that I am so bored and have nothing to do OR I am actually finally making an effort to accomplish something that I set out to do :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a great time yesterday with a couple of friends. We met up, had lunch, went karaoke-ing, played pool, wandered around. Basically just doing stuff that we normally wouldn't be able to do if we were still in school. Feels so good to just be able to go out whenever and do whatever without having to think about anything school-related (although the HSC is still a recurring subject that is often still talked about, even though it's DONE!). I finally feel like I'm on holiday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I went to youth church service this evening, something which I haven't done in aaaages. Didn't know many people there.. Pretty much only one person. But oh well... Should I go again? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going out again tomorrow, on Tuesday, on Friday and on Sunday until Monday. Life is good? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Fuuuuuck yeaaaaaah&lt;/span&gt; ;P &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-2533172977579089921?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/2533172977579089921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=2533172977579089921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/2533172977579089921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/2533172977579089921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-kept-my-promise.html' title='I kept my promise.'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-8284005739454208060</id><published>2011-11-23T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T00:57:46.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE END... of 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;Well, well, well...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see it's been more than a year since my last post. I guess that's understandable, with the importance of my last year of high school constantly nagging me to keep studying throughout the year, it's no wonder I just never found the time to keep blogging. And even then, I felt as if blogging was a waste of time, considering all the other 'important' things I had to do..... Or maybe I'm just plain lazy ;P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've just finished the dreaded High School Certificate. Now that I think about it, it wasn't as scary as I expected it to be. I didn't feel nervous or anything, even though I had failed to thoroughly studied the entire syllabus for a few subjects. Like you do enormous amounts of assignments, homework, assessments, etc. throughout the year, only to sit for a 3 hour exam (in most cases for me) and that's it. You kinda wonder whether all that hard work was really necessary but of course it is. So anyway, I finished my exams quite late&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; and it was quite difficult to focus when everyone keeps uploading photos of their post-exam partying. Very difficult indeed. To the point where you almost just want to give up and go out partying too. Nevertheless, I persevered and literally ran out of my last exam!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Realisation that I had completed my schooling didn't really sink in until the next week or so when I found myself sick in bed. The night after my last exam, I went out clubbing with my bestie, just to let all the stress out and that was an amazing night. Then the next day, we both went to the first K-pop concert in Sydney. We all los&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;t our voices, but no surprise there, especially when you finally get to see your favourite artists on stage performing in front of your very own eyes. The object of your fantasies (for some ;p), right there. It was breath-taking, I swear, I almost fainted&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; several times. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that everything's over, I feel as if I have more time for myself, and what I want to do. Not what teachers want me to do or what I'm supposed to do in order to succeed in exams. No, now it's just about the people around me and myself. Feels fucking great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been trying to look for a job but I've applied pretty late for &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas casual positions so I won't be surprised if I don't get anything. Would've been good though, to get a bit more pocket money and also so I don't die of boredom here in the forest. Sure being in the forest is nice, it's peaceful and relaxing.. But where I live, there's not much to do. And the internet is soooo slow, it's unbelievable. This is why I try and wake up late (not that it's much of a problem) so that half the day is gone and I d&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;on't need to sit around thinking of what to do to pass the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it for now. Hopefully my next blog post won't be in a year's time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&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&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-8284005739454208060?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/8284005739454208060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=8284005739454208060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/8284005739454208060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/8284005739454208060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2011/11/end-of-2011.html' title='THE END... of 2011'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-922281327799900099</id><published>2010-10-20T05:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T05:14:02.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears dry on their own, baby...</title><content type='html'>The weirdest thing happened to me yesterday night. &lt;div&gt;I semi-woke-up and realized I was crying. I think it had something to do with my dream but I don't know what it was about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brain was half in 'what the fuck is happening' mode and 'oh yeah this was inevitable' mode.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's only so much stress, disappointment and sadness a brain can handle. Past that point, it either malfunctions or shuts down. Assignment after assignment, mixed feelings towards different people, decision making, the possibility of my friend not being able to visit me here in Sydney at the end of the year and everything else in between... Is it starting to take its toll ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than that, I've picked up le Francais and it's good to be speaking it again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost my planner. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-922281327799900099?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/922281327799900099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=922281327799900099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/922281327799900099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/922281327799900099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/10/tears-dry-on-their-own-baby.html' title='Tears dry on their own, baby...'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-7255842586924286744</id><published>2010-10-15T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T17:11:27.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This and that, here and there...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;YEAR 12 YEAR 12 YEAR 12 !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It is October 2010. I am officially in Year 12. *silence* OMG I ONLY HAVE ONE MORE YEAR OF SCHOOL LEFT !&lt;br /&gt;It's exciting and scary mixed together with a sprinkle of mixed feelings on top...&lt;br /&gt;There's the fact that I'll be leaving school soon. While this is something I've always looked forward to, a part of me doesn't want to leave because.. I'll never get the chance to go back to high school ever again. From Year 1 until now, more than half my life has been spent in school. Hell, I think I've seen teachers even more than I've seen my parents...&lt;br /&gt;This is the last year I have to make the most out of what I have and enjoy the ride.&lt;br /&gt;Then, after the HSC, I'm outta here. Kinda sad, don't you think ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm actually quite excited because we are a very privilged year group, in a way.&lt;br /&gt;We have a brand new, high tech library with everything I could possibly need inside [I'm 101% sure that it is going to be my new home] and they are finally installing AIR-CONDITIONERS in the Year 12 corridor in the boarding house !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that's not that good is that we'll be having a new principal...&lt;br /&gt;But there are many things to look forward to :D &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Boys NOT INCLUDED.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 197px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 326px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528429098617718402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TLjs-W0KxoI/AAAAAAAAAOI/to04kTQGE6k/s320/DSCF0479+copy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-7255842586924286744?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/7255842586924286744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=7255842586924286744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/7255842586924286744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/7255842586924286744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-and-that-here-and-there.html' title='This and that, here and there...'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TLjs-W0KxoI/AAAAAAAAAOI/to04kTQGE6k/s72-c/DSCF0479+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-1758319255481537649</id><published>2010-06-16T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T04:56:12.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons of love</title><content type='html'>Summer has passed and now that Autumn is out of the way, we are ready to welcome Winter! And I'm already hating it. Sure, it's better than being all sweaty and everything but not suitable for a tropical person like myself. &lt;br /&gt;Yet, it's not the cold frosty weather that causes your nose to go bezerk or the frequent chills that annoy me the most...&lt;br /&gt;It's the quantity of food consumed during this wintery season. I mean, what the hell happened? I've suddenly turned into this non-stop eating machine. All I can think about is food! They've even overtaken 'Guys' on my Life Priorities list !! Fortunately, I am not alone in my misery...So, I blame it on the weather...Well, what else could it be? ....We have an epidemic.&lt;br /&gt;In consequence, I have decided to stop having dessert *sobs* As my sugar levels decrease, you shall be expecting more emoness on this page...&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, if you plan on curling up underneath a huge warm blanket with someone special everyday then Winter's the month for you :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-1758319255481537649?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/1758319255481537649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=1758319255481537649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/1758319255481537649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/1758319255481537649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/06/seasons-of-love_16.html' title='Seasons of love'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-2472563164498240534</id><published>2010-04-15T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T07:04:03.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear."  ~H.P. Lovecraft</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Ntomatoephobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apiphobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acrophobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anginophobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lygophobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bathmophibic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Astraphobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Atychiphobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hormephobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hypengyophobic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afraid of You...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-2472563164498240534?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/2472563164498240534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=2472563164498240534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/2472563164498240534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/2472563164498240534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/04/oldest-and-strongest-emotion-of-mankind.html' title='&quot;The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.&quot;  ~H.P. Lovecraft'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-6078321109775011007</id><published>2010-04-07T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T04:56:47.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fooled by appearances...</title><content type='html'>Jealousy is a sickening hobby for certain people. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These types of people normally have nothing better to do with their lives filled with nothing. They are normally surrounded by people who themselves, have nothing better to do with their lives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you look at them closely, they normally have no aim in their lives. Oh wait, I take that back. Their sole aim is to make anybody's life a living hell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They do not choose just Anybody. No, far from it. They normally aim for someone who has everything they will never have, who are happy not because of the superfluous crowd that surrounds them but because they know who they are. They intend to bring down this person because they cannot stand seeing someone so perfect without even trying to be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They become so obsessed with ruining this person's life that nothing else counts because deep down inside they know that at the end of the day, they are the losers of their own game. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The tragic thing is that some actually succeed because of their cruel actions and words. They ruin peaceful lives to mirror their own chaotic ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pitiful truth indeed. &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/7845738837693422969-6078321109775011007?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/6078321109775011007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=6078321109775011007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/6078321109775011007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/6078321109775011007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/04/fooled-by-appearances.html' title='fooled by appearances...'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-3319693470365352030</id><published>2010-04-06T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T22:42:44.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the only exception...</title><content type='html'>She was walking down the street, pausing to check her hair in every parked car she walked past. Asian. With those oversized sun glasses and bag, she kept walking, with stones in her shoes. &lt;div&gt;"She's not from here" I said. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She seemed to be staring at me but the more I looked, the more she seemed to be focusing on the nothingness of the horizon, keeping her head up, avoiding the occasional whistle from a male on the sidewalk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She looked the part, she seemed like one of them. But she was so different. She avoided them. Why ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She didn't care what they were doing, to her they probably looked like fools. What were they doing anyway ? I was too focused on the wind blowing her slightly permed hair. Her hair flapping behind her like a flag, black like the emotion that I was feeling at that very moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for some reason, her mind was focused on something else. She refused to walk past our gathering place. She took the long road home, just to be excluded from the crowd. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wanted to know what was on her mind. A normal 17 year old, trying to survive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-3319693470365352030?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/3319693470365352030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=3319693470365352030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/3319693470365352030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/3319693470365352030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/04/only-exception.html' title='the only exception...'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-8603292324056397836</id><published>2010-04-06T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T05:26:01.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There are always better Cookies on the other plate...</title><content type='html'>I want something, I'll get it. I have it, I don't know what to do with it. I see something else, I want it. I get it, and forget about the other one...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-----------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm back in New Cally now. It's weird being here. I know i'm on holiday but this is my first time being 'on holiday' here. It feels like I've never left, and it feels like i'm not actually here. Which one to believe ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People are the same. But I find out some things that were never in the picture when I left. That's what makes the difference. Another difference is that I no longer understand what is going on. I don't have the latest goss, but that doesn't worry me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just here to see all mu friends again, right ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-----------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently Love is an art....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;I was never good at art anyway....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-8603292324056397836?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/8603292324056397836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=8603292324056397836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/8603292324056397836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/8603292324056397836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/04/there-are-always-better-cookies-on.html' title='There are always better Cookies on the other plate...'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7845738837693422969.post-6584264416112760517</id><published>2010-03-24T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T02:30:14.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We could've been...</title><content type='html'>I can't believe, what you said to me&lt;br /&gt;Last night we were alone&lt;br /&gt;You threw your hands up&lt;br /&gt;Baby you gave up, you gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll never talk again&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy, you left me speechless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll never love again&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy, you left me speechless, so speechless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7845738837693422969-6584264416112760517?l=heartsnpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/feeds/6584264416112760517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7845738837693422969&amp;postID=6584264416112760517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/6584264416112760517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7845738837693422969/posts/default/6584264416112760517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsnpain.blogspot.com/2010/03/we-couldve-been.html' title='We could&apos;ve been...'/><author><name>StephY.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08607615895148443022</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JAtEcmHlIqs/TUS1s28ZzuI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fny4rAtRZVw/s220/110129-151655.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
